His touch is gentler than usual as he prepares me, as if I've suddenly become fragile in his eyes. When he finally pushes inside me, the familiar stretch and fullness is accompanied by an unfamiliar restraint in his movements.
"You won't break me," I whisper, rolling my hips to take him deeper.
His jaw tightens, the battle between desire and control visible in the tension of his shoulders. "I won't risk hurting either of you."
"You won't." I pull him closer, wrap my legs around his waist. "Please, Roman. I need you."
Something in my plea reaches him. With a groan, he begins to move, still carefully but with more purpose. His eyes never leave mine, watching for any sign of discomfort. It's strange being the focus of such concentrated attention, having every reaction noted and responded to. He's always been an attentive lover, but this is different—this is worship.
"I never thought I could have this," he confesses, words punched out between thrusts. "You. A family. My child growing inside you."
The raw honesty in his voice pushes me closer to the edge. Roman rarely reveals vulnerability, and each glimpse is precious.
"You've made me happier than I thought possible," he continues, his rhythm faltering as his own release approaches. "Given me more than I deserve."
"Roman," I gasp, teetering on the brink.
"Come for me," he commands, and even in this new, tender mode, he expects obedience. "Come around me while you're full of my child."
The words trigger my release, pleasure washing through me in waves that leave me trembling in his arms. Roman follows moments later, his body tensing above mine as he empties himself with a groan that sounds like surrender.
Afterward, he gathers me against him, his hand resting possessively over my stomach.
"You've changed everything," he murmurs into my hair.
I trace patterns on his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heart. "For the better?"
"Beyond better." His arms tighten around me. "You've given meaning to a life I built only to prove I could. Purpose beyond acquisition and control."
"You still seem pretty focused on control," I tease gently.
He doesn't deny it. "That won't change. If anything, it will intensify."
"I've noticed."
"But now it has purpose." His hand slides down my body, and I feel him hardening against my thigh again. "Now it's not just about possessing you, but protecting what we've created together."
Before I can respond, he's rolling me onto my back again, his recovered erection pressing insistently against me.
"Again?" I laugh, though my body is already responding to his.
"Always," he promises, sliding inside me with a groan of satisfaction. "It's a good thing you're already pregnant."
"Why's that?" I gasp as he begins to move.
His eyes lock with mine, possessive and tender all at once. "Because if you weren't, I'd be getting you pregnant right now." He punctuates the statement with a deep thrust that makes me cry out. "Filling you with my seed until there was no chance you could escape being the mother of my children."
The words should shock me, but instead they send a fresh wave of desire through my body. This is Roman—raw, possessive, and unapologetic in his need to claim me in every possible way.
"I'm yours," I whisper, the only truth that matters between us. "I've always been yours."
His smile is fierce as he moves within me. "And now you always will be."
As he takes me toward another shattering climax, I realize the truth in his words. The child growing inside me has bound us together in ways that even Roman, with all his contracts and control, couldn't have engineered. What began as his obsession has transformed into something mutual and inescapable.
And as his body covers mine, protective and possessive, I find I don't want to escape. This is where I belong—claimed, cherished, and forever his.
