Vik
CHAPTER EIGHT
The silence stretches between us, and a kaleidoscope of images suddenly explodes through my mind, blinding me with a vividness of beauty.
All I see is Romy, not exhausted like the woman standing in front of me right now, but a version of her months from now, her beautiful body becoming rounder, heavier, and bursting with the life we created together.
I see her face flushed with sweat and agony, pushing through childbirth, her fingers digging into my hand until she nearly breaks it.
I see her quiet, peaceful, holding a tiny bundle of joy against her bare chest in a dimly lit room, looking down at our baby.
A soft, fierce maternal love coming from Romy, gifting it to our child.
Then the kaleidoscope shifts further into the sunshine, this time at a park.
A wide stretch of green grass under a blue sky, and a little child runs ahead of us, tiny legs moving as fast as possible, laughter echoing on the wind.
Our child has Romy’s wild energy, golden-blonde hair flying behind him, and my mischievous grin.
It’ll be a little boy. I’m sure of it.
My chaotic brain remembers a conversation over drinks with the guys months ago.
Rafe looked at me with that quiet certainty of a man who knows the mysteries of the universe and mentioned something about reproduction.
The man decides the sex of the baby, Vik.
Something about the biology, the timing.
If she orgasms first, it’ll be a boy. If you get yours first, chances are it’s a girl.
I’d scoffed at him at the time, telling him I didn’t give a damn about the science of making babies because I wasn’t ever going to make one.
Then I remember the night with Romy, the one where the condom broke.
I told her, and she told me to keep going, that she was on birth control.
I pulled out, tore off the damn thing, and kept fucking my cock into her wet pussy.
I made sure she got hers first, having to hold back after taking her bare.
It was the best goddamn feeling ever, and watching her come, breathless and shaking beneath me, it got me off.
Even if the theory is wrong and we have a little girl, It’ll be sweet as hell. The thought should fucking terrify me. And apparently, not only did the condom fail, but Romy’s birth control did as well.
My own childhood was shit, the reason behind not wanting children in the first place.
My father is a monster, a man who used his fists to teach a lesson, beating me black and blue in the basement of a house that was meant to be a home.
My mother, while taking the brunt of what she could, also never left.
It wasn’t until I grew taller and gained more muscle that dear old dad quit beating on me, probably because he knew if I got my hands on him, he’d be dead.
I spent my entire adult life vowing that the bloodline would stop with me.
Until now.
I don’t want to be my father. Shit, I’ll die before I even raise a hand to a child of Romy’s, or any for that fucking matter.
I want this. God help me, I want it all.
I open my eyes, the vulnerability of the past fading and allowing my natural instinct to take over.
I straighten my shoulders and move toward her.
“You’re not moving to New York,” I say, my voice dropping into a tone that brokers no argument.
“And you’re sure as hell not staying in this apartment alone.
You’re packing your things, Romy. You’re moving in with me.
Today.” Her jaw drops, the sleep-riddled paleness on her cheeks suddenly flush with a bright crimson.
She takes a step back, her hands fly to her hips, and she gives me a look of pure hell.
“No.” Her voice is sharp and full of defiance. “Absolutely not. Are you out of your ever-loving mind?”
“Romy—” I go to interrupt.
“No, you listen to me, Vik!” she barks back, chest heaving beneath my old T-shirt, her pebbled nipples doing fuck all for my raging cock.
“You don’t get to barge into my apartment and start issuing orders.
I’m not one of your employees. You told me repeatedly, over and over again, that you never wanted a family, that your life was built for a party of one.
Now, I won’t keep your child from you because I’m not a bitch, but you are not bossing me around or forcing me into your penthouse, and we are absolutely not having a relationship just because I’m pregnant! ”
The word relationship hits me in the solar plexus, but it’s the fury in her eyes that finally breaks the last of my control.
“Dammit, Rory. What I want is you!” I roar, stepping into her space until her back meets the wall.
“I wanted you the second you walked out of my life. I’ve been miserable without you.
I haven’t slept, I haven’t eaten, and I’ve been drowning in my own office because the thought of going home to nothing but silence without you there is killing me.
If you’d have taken a single one of my calls or answered a text, you would have known that. ”
“Oh, please.” Romy’s eyes flash with tears.
She blinks them away, refusing to let them fall.
Her hands push against my solid chest, but I don’t move an inch.
“I didn’t see you banging on my door for weeks, Vik.
I didn’t see you breaking boundaries until Alex told you a lie and you thought I was moving across the country.
You didn’t want me—you just didn’t want to lose control.
” Her voice breaks. Christ, I’m an asshole.
“Fuck the control,” I growl. I’m done talking, done negotiating, done analyzing, and done letting my messed-up past dictate my future.
Before she can utter another word of protest, I lunge.
My hands cup her cheeks, large hands framing her face, fingers burying deep into her tangled hair.
I pull her body flush against mine, lifting her slightly off her feet until her tits are crushed against my chest, her hips locking tightly against mine.
Romy lets out a sharp, breathless gasp. Her hands fly to my wrists to push me away, but the moment her skin met mine, her resistance dissolves into a quiet whimper.
“Being with you, feeling you, it’s what I want, now and always,” I whisper against her lips, voice raw with a desperate, heavy truth.
“And I’m never letting you go again.” The moment I bring my mouth down on hers, everything quiets.
A brutal, beautiful collision of weeks of misery and a lifetime of unsaid words.
I don’t hold back. I pour every ounce of hunger, terror, and adoration into our mouths meeting.
My tongue parts her lips with a possessive, dominant stroke, claiming her with a fierce intensity that has Romy sinking into me.
She lets out a soft, ragged moan. Her fingers abandon my wrists and dig into my dark, messy hair, pulling me closer, arching her body into mine as the heat between us explodes into a wild, out-of-control flame. The taste of her is intoxicating and she floods my senses.
I groan deep in my throat, a primal heavy sound that vibrates on her chest. My hands slide down from her face, my palms scraping over the soft fabric of her shirt, tracing the curve of the sides of her breasts, hearing her sharp intake of breath before moving lower.
My palms meet the small of her back, and then I’m lifting her higher, pressing her back against the wall further, and my thigh wedges between her legs to anchor her to me.
It also gives her the friction she’s after; I feel her wetness soaking through my pants.
She pulls at my shirt as her lips move against mine with a matching hunger.
I kiss her until her breaths are short, her gasps are jagged, and only then do I move my lips from her mouth to trail a burning path down the column of her throat.
My teeth gently nip at the sensitive skin over her pulse point.
Romy throws her head back, a sob escapes her lips, and she holds on like I’m her life raft in a turbulent storm.
“Vik.” Her voice is a trembling thread of desire.
I pull back an inch and rest my forehead against hers, my chest heaving as I look at her flush face, swollen lips, and eyes full of desire.
I keep my hands locked on her ass, holding her tightly against my body, letting her roll her hips and use me to get off.
This right here, it’s more than me making her come, it’s making Romy mine. Her and our unborn child.