21. Fae
FAE
The first thing I notice is the weight of Roman behind me.
One arm is wrapped around my waist; his body is curved against mine and his breathing presses against my shoulder blades.
The slow rhythm of it eases the restlessness in my chest before I’m even fully awake.
My body still aches in places I’d rather not examine too closely, but the constant tension that lived under my skin for weeks has eased.
My fingers curl against the sheets as memories of the last few weeks drift through my mind.
Nights used to mean something very different then.
I remember lying awake for hours listening to every tiny sound as my mind tried to decide which ones meant danger and which ones meant nothing at all.
Roman shifts in his sleep. His arm tightens around my waist as if he can feel me drifting too far into my thoughts.
His face presses deeper into the crook of my neck and the movement sends warmth through my chest.
I exhale.
God… I’ve missed this. Not just him, not just the way his arms feel around me.
I missed the quiet certainty of it, the simple comfort of knowing I’m not alone when I close my eyes.
My fingers drift down, resting over the arm wrapped around my waist as the memory of last night returns in fragments. I squeeze my eyes shut.
God, I lost it.
Even worse, everyone saw it. I hate that the moment Longstaff pushed the right button I fell apart right in front of them. I know they probably understand. After everything that’s happened, anyone with half a brain would. But that doesn’t stop the embarrassment.
I shift and his breathing changes behind me like he’s drifting closer to waking. Roman’s hand moves against my stomach, his open palm sliding across the soft skin there before settling over my womb like he’s protecting the baby. He does it again; this time his thumb brushes lightly across my skin.
I can’t believe he accepted the pregnancy without any hesitation.
There were no questions, no anger, not even a flicker of doubt.
There was only the certainty in his voice when he told me it didn’t matter whose blood ran through our child.
Most people would have paused. Needed time to think through something that complicated, but Roman didn’t even blink.
My hand drifts down to rest lightly over his where it covers my stomach as my fingers trace the roughness of his knuckles.
I need to know who the father is. I don’t know why the feeling sits so stubbornly inside my chest, but it does.
Roman has made it clear that it won’t change anything for him, and part of me believes him, yet the question lingers in the back of my mind.
Maybe it’s preparation. Maybe it’s knowing what I’m walking into before this child arrives.
Maybe it’s simply the need for the truth.
Whatever the reason, I know I won’t be able to ignore it forever.
Roman’s palm shifts again across my stomach, and the movement pulls my attention back to him.
My lips curve faintly into the pillow as I let my body relax into his hold once more.
I think I could stay like this for hours.
Curled in the quiet of the room with Roman’s arms wrapped around me as the rest of the world waits outside the door.
After everything the last few weeks have taken from me, the simple comfort of lying here beside him feels fragile and precious.
Safe.
I stretch carefully, wincing as the pull of it sends a dull ache across my back.
The shift pushes me back into Roman. He inhales sharply behind me as his hips shift, pressing him firmly against me.
The heat of him against my back makes me squirm.
Even through the thin layers between us I can feel how hard he is, the unmistakable weight of it resting against the curve of my body.
“Fuck,” he groans, his voice rough with the sleepy huskiness I’ve missed.
He presses closer against me as his mouth brushes the back of my shoulder. A shiver ripples through me before his lips follow the trail of goose pimples across my skin.
“Ignore that,” he murmurs sleepily, his lips lingering near my neck. “I can’t help it when you’re lying next to me like this.”
A quiet laugh escapes me. I turn slowly within his arms, rolling onto my back so I can see him.
His arm stays draped across my waist. Up close, I can see the faint shadows of exhaustion clinging to his face.
His buzz cut leaves the shape of his head completely exposed, dark stubble already beginning to return along his scalp, whilst the rough shadow of his beard frames the sharp line of his jaw.
His brown eyes are heavy with sleep, but the moment they settle on me something in them shifts.
Roman’s gaze moves across my features before settling back on my eyes.
His thumb drifts absently against my hip as he watches me.
“No,” I whisper.
“No?” His brow pulls together.
“What if I don’t want to ignore it?”
I shift closer, my hand sliding across the warmth of his chest until my palm settles over his heart.
The steady beat beneath my fingers sends a rush of nerves through me, my own pulse hammering as I draw in a slow breath to steady myself.
Roman reacts instantly. One of his arms slides beneath my neck, his hand cradling the back of my head as he pulls me closer, and the other moves down to my hip before gripping a handful of my arse.
“I need you,” I say into his mouth.
Roman stills.
“Tink…” he begins gently and I place my finger on his lips, silencing him.
“I know what you’re going to say.” He raises one eyebrow at me as I pull my hand back. “That I’ve been through too much or I’m not thinking clearly and that we should wait.”
His hand comes up to my face, brushing a loose strand of hair away from my cheek before his fingers settle there. He studies me as a soft expression covers his face before he leans down and presses a gentle kiss against my lips.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, little one. You could be hurt,” he murmurs.
My chest tightens and my eyes fill with tears. This was exactly what I was afraid of. I know I’m not easy to love. I never have been easy to love. But I don’t want to feel fragile. I don’t want him looking at me like I’m something broken that might shatter if he touches me wrong.
“I need to know you still want me,” I choke out.
A crease forms between his brows as he pulls me closer. The movement presses my stomach against the solid heat of him and his grip firms, like he’s trying to anchor me there.
“Fae—”
“I know some women don’t react like this,” I rush on before I lose the nerve to say it.
“I know some people need space after something like that. But that’s not how my brain works.
I need to know he didn’t break something in me; I need to know that when you look at me you don’t just see… what happened.”
Roman’s jaw tightens as his nostrils flare.
“And I need to feel like my body still belongs to me,” I add softly.
Silence settles between us. Roman’s hand slides down my arm and his fingers thread through mine.
The touch is gentle, causing a shiver to move through me.
My breathing changes and my attention fixes on how close we are.
There’s the heat of his body beneath my palm, the slow rise and fall of his chest under my hand and the solid length of his cock pressed against me.
A warmth spreads through me. It is deeper than desire.
It is the feeling of being wanted, being touched without fear, being here in his bed instead of on cold concrete wondering what someone might take from me next.
My thighs press together, and the movement only makes the awareness worse.
My body feels sensitive; every brush of his fingers against my skin sends little sparks of sensation through me that make my breath catch.
Damp heat gathers between my legs as my body reacts with a kind of urgency that almost embarrasses me, but the need sits stronger than the shame.
When I look at him like this, when I feel the strength in his hands and the heat of him beneath me, all I want is the reassurance that I’m still his.
Roman’s thumb strokes across my knuckles and I can see the restraint in his face.
His jaw is tight whilst his eyes continue searching mine.
“You already know I want you,” he murmurs.
“Show me,” I beg, letting my legs fall apart.
Roman studies my face for a long time, searching for hesitation that isn’t there. Whatever he finds makes something in his shoulders loosen. His hand cups my cheek again.
“You’re in charge, Tink.”
The gentleness in his voice almost breaks me.
I nod once as Roman leans forward, giving me enough time to pull away if I want to.
When his lips finally meet mine, the kiss is soft and cautious, like he’s reminding himself that I’m here and real.
My fingers curl at the back of his neck as I pull him closer.
The moment I respond, the kiss deepens. His mouth moves against mine with a hunger that’s been sitting under his skin since the second he woke up.
I gasp as his hand slides down my side, his palm spreading over my hip before drifting lower.
I feel his thick fingers rubbing against my wet knickers.
I should be embarrassed by how turned on I am, but being touched so reverently after so long makes it feel even better.
“You’re so wet for me,” he murmurs against my mouth and the words vibrate through my chest.