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Roman grips my thighs and lifts me off the vanity. I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck as he carries me to the bed. With his cock still buried deep inside me, he brings us both down to the mattress. He hooks my knees over his elbows—spreading me wide—and fucks me savagely. His hips piston, driving his cock into me with force and purpose. The bed creaks, and the headboard slams against the wall as he works diligently to put his child inside me.

“Look at me,” he commands, and I force my eyes open, my gaze hazy and unfocused. “Watch me, angel. Watch Daddy fill you.”

The intimacy of his stare boring through me, coupled with the rough fullness of him pounding into me, is my undoing. My back arching off the bed and pussy clamping down on him like a vise, I explode. The orgasm rips through me with violent force, starting deep in my core and radiating outward in blinding waves of pleasure. “Squeeze my cock,” he grits. “Make me come.”

The walls of my pussy spasm in rhythmic contractions that squeeze tightly around his shaft as he buries himself to the hilt. “Fuck! Yes!” he growls, his hips jerking as he releases. “Take it.” He keeps thrusting, shallow, grinding movements of his hips to work his seed deeper. “Take every drop of my cum, angel.”

My body still shaking, I quiver around him as his hot, thick release floods me so completely that it spills out of me. His cock is still twitching inside me, and I squeeze around him, wanting to keep every drop of him inside me.

He collapses on top of me, careful to keep his weight on his forearms, as he buries his face in my neck. “Mine,” he whispers against my skin, pressing kisses to my thundering pulse. “My angel. My wife. Soon-to-be mother of my child.”

I make a soft, contented sound, my hands stroking lazily up and down his back. He stays inside me for a long time before eventually softening and slipping out, a trickle of cum following behind him.

“Don’t move,” he says softly. He heads into the adjoining bathroom and returns with a warm cloth. After climbing onto the bed, he kneels between my legs. He reaches between them, but instead of the warm cloth, his fingers gently trace the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. He dips a finger into the trickle of his release that has escaped me, gathering the pearly fluid on his fingertip. My breath hitches as he brings it back to my entrance.

“Can’t waste any of it.” He gingerly presses his cum-coated finger inside me before pushing it deep. The intimate gesture sends a fresh wave of heat through me. “Every drop needs to stay right where it belongs.”

He withdraws his finger slowly and reaches for the cloth. It is warm against my sensitive flesh. He wipes my thighs first, then gently between my folds. I’m so sensitive that I hiss softly when he passes over my swollen clit, and he lightens his touch. “You did so good for me,” he whispers, leaning down to press a kiss to my inner thigh. “So perfect. You took me so well, angel. Took every drop of cum I gave you.”

He cleans me thoroughly before tossing the cloth aside and pulling me into his arms. I curl into his chest, my head tucked under his chin and body fitting against his like we were made for each other. He pulls the covers over us, and I sigh, a sound of pure contentment, wrapping my arm around his waist.

“Sleep now, angel,” he whispers, his fingers stroking my hair. “I can feel it happening already, my claim sinking deep, making you mine in the most permanent way. Rest as my seed takes root in your womb. Let your body accept my gift, doing exactly what it was made for. Rest and dream of our baby, angel. Dream of the life we’ve just created.”

I nuzzle closer, already drifting off, vaguely feeling his lips press against my forehead. Held safe in his arms, I let the darkness take me with thoughts of my swollen belly, our child, and the life we’re going to build together.

Chapter Thirteen

Roman

Sitting in my home office, I’ve been staring at the same sheet of numbers for the past twenty minutes. My mind is elsewhere, because these days, it’s always elsewhere.

It has been three months since Cora finally submitted to me. Twelve weeks since I first claimed her body. Three months of filling her with my seed—at least daily—to put my son in her. I’ve counted every fucking day, all eighty-nine of them. I’ve watched and studied her body for signs, as I’ve waited for her to tell me she’s late. I’ve been patient. God, I’ve been patient. But that is a virtue that has never come easily to me. Especially when it comes to her. And especially not when it comes to this.

I need her body to finally accept my seed and give me our son.

Cora’s footsteps—hesitant and uneven, not her usual confident stride—coming down the hallway draws my attention to the door of my office. My chest tightens at the unusual sound. I push back from my desk and cross the office to see what plagues my angel. When I step into the hall, I find her only a few feet from the threshold.

Her golden curls are still wild from sleep, but her eyes are wide and luminous. She’s holding something behind her back, and her lower lip is trembling slightly. Though I don’t need to see what she’s hiding or hear her say a word to see what she has come to tell me. One look at her face had already told me everything I need to know.

“Daddy,” she whispers, the honorific having never sounded like this when it passed over her lips before.

“Show me,” I insist, my voice rough, barely maintaining control over my excitement. She pulls her hand from behind her back, revealing the pregnancy test wrapped tightly in her fist. When I take it from her hand, the results are clear as day. There are two dark and unmistakable lines.

Positive.

She’s pregnant. My seed took root, and my angel is finally growing the first of our sons. My heart races with excitement, the thunderous whoosh of it beating in my ears drowns out the ever-present sounds of the city below the windows of our penthouse.

After shoving the test into my pocket, I cup her face, my thumbs brushing over her cheekbones, and I kiss her. It’s soft and gentle, a celebration of this moment and a thank-you to whatever gods finally made this possible. With my lips on hers, I can’t fight against my primal urge to own the mother of my children, and our kiss grows more desperate and needy. She melts into me, her hands coming up to grip my wrists, holding on as I devour her mouth.

When I finally break our connection, we’re both breathing hard. I rest my forehead against hers with my eyes closed, trying to process the magnitude of this moment. “You’re sure?” I rasp.

“I took three,” she confesses quietly. “All the same. I’m late. I’ve been late for a week, but I was scared to tell you. Scared to give you hope.”

I open my eyes and pull back enough to see her face. Trails of tears trickle down her cheeks, but she’s smiling. My girl is happy.

“Don’t cry, angel,” I murmur, wiping the tears away with my thumbs.

“I’m happy, Roman,” she sobs, still smiling through the tears. “I’m giving you what you want. We’re having a baby.”