Chapter 23 #2
He kissed her, slow and deep and full of promise.
When they broke apart he was smiling. “Come on. Let me show you.”
He led her upstairs. The second floor had three doors. Two open, one closed.
He opened the first door. “Our bedroom.”
She stepped inside and studied the room. It was simple, but comfortable. A large bed with a thick navy comforter was positioned against one wall and windows overlooking the snow-covered garden lined the other. There was a reading chair in the corner and soft rugs on the hardwood floor.
Peaceful. Welcoming.
Perfect.
“I can change anything you want,” he said quickly. “The colors, the furniture—”
“It’s beautiful. I love it.”
He relaxed slightly. “Bathroom’s through there, and there’s plenty of closet space.” He paused. “Come on. One more room.”
They walked to the second open door. He hesitated with his hand on the frame, looking suddenly nervous.
“I know the baby isn’t mine biologically,” he said quietly. “I know I don’t have any right to—”
“Victor—”
“But I love this baby already. Both of us do. And I want—” He took a breath. “I want to be a father. If you’ll let me.”
Her vision blurred. “Of course I’ll let you. I want that too.”
Relief and joy flooded his face as he pushed open the door. The room was empty but full of potential. Large windows. Good light. Space for a crib and changing table and all the things a baby would need.
“I thought we could make this the nursery,” he said. “Together. Pick out colors and furniture. Make it… ours.”
Ours. Not just two separate people trying to survive alone, but a family.
She turned and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For choosing us. For loving us. For being brave.”
His arms came around her, strong and sure and gentle.
“Thank you for seeing me,” he said. “All of me. For not being afraid.”
They stood there holding each other. The empty nursery waiting to be filled. The future spreading out before them, full of possibility.
The baby kicked between them, strong and insistent, and he laughed, putting his hand on her belly. “I think someone’s excited too.”
“Or impatient.” She smiled up at him. “Wants to meet their dad.”
“Dad.” He tested the word, then returned her smile. “I like that.”
“Good.” Chloe kissed him. “Because you’re stuck with us now.”
“Best thing that ever happened to me.”
He kissed her again. Deep and sweet and full of promise.
Through the window, snow continued to fall. Blanketing the world in soft white.
But inside their home—their family—everything was warm.
Safe.
Loved.
Exactly as it should be.
Victor pulled back slightly. “You should rest. It’s been a long morning.”
“I’m not tired.”
“Liar.” He tapped her nose. “You’re exhausted. And you need to eat something.”
“I’m not hungry for food,” she whispered, trailing her hands down across his chest. His eyes immediately flared green.
“Hyde is still very close to the surface,” he warned her.
“Good. He needs to be part of this as well.”
“Are you sure?”
“Very. Let go,” she whispered against his lips, and he did.
Her breath caught as he began to transform, almost seamlessly this time, his size increasing and his features sharpening, although the shadow of Victor was still there on his face.
“There you are,” she whispered, reaching up to cradle his face in her hands.
“You have no idea.” His voice was a low growl with Hyde’s deep rumble beneath it. “How much I want you.”
“I have some idea.” Her eyes dropped to his mouth, then lower to the full, heavy length of his erection. “Show me.”
She gasped as he lifted her easily into his arms, her pregnant belly a perfect curve against him. She looped her arms around his neck, peppering small, urgent kisses to his neck and jaw as he carried her toward the bedroom.
The sunlight reflecting off the snow cast flickering lights across the wall as he placed her carefully on her feet, his huge hands moving with surprising delicacy as he undressed her.
Piece by piece, he stripped away her clothes in the sunny bedroom, his gaze reverent.
When she was finally bare, he took a moment to just look.
“Beautiful,” he rumbled, the word a low vibration in his chest. “So beautiful.”
He stretched out beside her, being careful of his weight, his huge body making the bed seem impossibly small.
His hands roamed her body, exploring every curve, every dip.
His fingers, tipped with claws that could tear through steel, were gentle as they traced the curve of her breasts, the swell of her stomach, but there was an undercurrent of wildness beneath the surface, a leashed power that made her skin tingle.
Her breath hitched as his mouth followed his hands, his lips and tongue worshiping her body.
“Victor,” she gasped as his mouth closed over her nipple, his teeth scraping gently.
“Hyde,” he rumbled against her skin, his voice deeper.
“Hyde,” she agreed, tangling her fingers in his hair and holding him to her.
He rumbled his approval, tugging harder on her nipple, and she arched against him with a soft cry.
His hands grew larger still, but he was careful, so careful, as his mouth moved lower, tracing a path of fire across her skin.
His shoulders were broader, his body more massive, but his touch was still gentle.
When he pressed a line of soft kisses to her belly, the baby kicked hard against his cheek.
He stilled, his head lifting to meet her eyes.
His face was fully transformed now—the sharp, angular features of his Hyde, the burning green eyes, the raw power that coiled in his massive frame.
He looked like the monster he feared he was, but he looked at her with something close to awe, his hands spanning her belly as if protecting the life inside.
“Baby,” he rumbled, and the word, rough and deep, was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Our baby.”
He growled, a low, possessive sound that vibrated through her, then shifted lower.
He settled between her legs, his huge hands gently pushing her knees back, opening her to him.
He looked his fill, his gaze so hot it felt like a physical touch.
She’d never felt so seen, so wanted, so cherished.
And then he lowered his head, his mouth finding her core.
She cried out, her hands fisting in the blankets.
His tongue was huge and hot and demanding, licking and tasting with a focused intensity that left her breathless.
He wasn’t just giving her pleasure; he was worshipping her, claiming her, marking her as his.
One of his massive hands came up to cup her breast, his thumb and finger rolling her nipple in a rhythm that matched the strokes of his tongue.
The dual sensations were overwhelming, pushing her higher and higher, the tension coiling deep in her belly until she thought she might shatter.
She came with a cry, her orgasm crashing over her in waves so intense her vision went white.
He didn’t stop, his mouth relentless, pushing her through the pleasure until she was a boneless, panting mess.
When she finally came back to herself, he was kissing his way back up her body, his path studded with soft bites and licks.
He settled over her, his forearms braced on either side of her head, careful to keep his weight off her stomach.
He was enormous, his body a cage of muscle and power surrounding her, but she felt safe, safer than she’d ever felt in her life.
She reached up, her hands tracing the sharp angles of his face, the rough stubble on his jaw, the strange texture of his skin.
“Please,” she whispered.
He reached between their bodies, freeing his erection. She felt his cock pressing against her entrance, impossibly thick and hard, but he hesitated a moment longer.
“Hyde… big.”
“I trust you.”
He took a deep breath, and then he pushed inside her.
The stretch was intense, a burning ache that bordered on pain, but she welcomed it. She welcomed all of him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, until he was fully seated inside her. He let out a long, shuddering groan, his head dropping to her shoulder.
“Chloe.”
He began to move then, slow, deep thrusts that tested the limits of her control. Each withdrawal was a loss, each return a homecoming. He was everywhere—inside her, over her, his scent in her lungs, his growls in her ears. There was only this. Only them.
His thrusts grew harder, faster, his control finally, irrevocably, shattering.
He was all Hyde now, a wild, powerful creature, all raw strength and desperate need.
His hands, still enormous, cradled her head, his body a shield, protecting her even as he took what she so freely offered.
He possessed her, consumed her, and she met him thrust for thrust, her nails digging into the thick muscles of his back, her body rising to meet his, urging him on.
This was what she wanted. All of him. The man and the monster.
“Hyde,” she gasped, and he roared, a sound of pure possession, as he came deep inside her. The feel of him pulsing within her, the raw, visceral claim of his orgasm, sent her over the edge, her orgasm so powerful it left her trembling and breathless.
He collapsed half on top of her, his massive body a warm, heavy weight that should have been crushing but was, instead, the most grounding thing she had ever felt.
His forehead rested against hers, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
His eyes were still glowing, but the green was softer now, like new leaves in the spring.
“I’m too heavy,” he rumbled.
“No.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close. “Don’t move.”
They stayed like that for a long time, just breathing together, their bodies tangled, the sunlight flickering over them.
She could feel his heart hammering against her chest, a wild, frantic rhythm that was slowly, gradually, beginning to even out.
He was still huge, still Hyde, but the frantic energy had subsided, replaced by a deep, contented stillness.
This was a new beginning for both of them. For all three of them.
She touched her stomach and felt the baby shift and settle.
“We’re home,” she whispered. “All of us.”
His hand covered hers, slowly returning to its normal size. “Yes. We are.”
And for the first time in longer than she could remember, she felt completely, absolutely certain that this was where she belonged.