Chapter 31
TESSA
The door clicks shut, and the silence rushes back into the apartment. But this time, it doesn’t feel heavy. It doesn’t feel like the suffocating silence of abandonment. It feels charged.
“They’ll be back in soon,” Ethan says, his voice rough. “Asher needs his specific multi-screen setup from the office, and Owen insisted on getting food that isn’t just burnt toast.”
He’s standing in the middle of my living room, looking out of place and entirely at home all at once.
His suit jacket is draped over my armchair, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the corded muscle of his forearms. He looks wrecked.
His hair is messy, his eyes rimmed with red, the shadow of a beard darkens his jaw.
“You stayed,” I whisper, pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders, though I’m not cold anymore.
“I’m never leaving again,” he says.
Crossing the distance between us, he sinks to his knees on the rug between my legs instead of taking the couch—just like he did when the others were here. But now, without an audience, the intensity of his gaze is almost unbearable. It burns.
“Tessa,” he breathes, reaching out to take my hands. His palms are warm, rough, and trembling slightly. “I need you to hear me. I need you to understand why I walked out.”
“You were scared,” I say softly. “I know. I was scared too.”
“It wasn’t just fear,” he corrects me, his thumbs brushing over my knuckles. “It was shame. Absolute, blinding shame. I looked at you… I looked at where my child is growing… and my first instinct was to calculate the damage. To look at the bottom line.”
He takes a ragged breath, his grip on my hands tightening.
“But it was worse than that. I used your situation against you, Tessa. I used your rent and your loans to trap you because I was too weak to just ask you to stay. That was unforgivable.”
He closes his eyes, a look of self-loathing twisting his features.
“I thought I was him,” he admits, his voice barely a whisper. “Richard. And I couldn’t breathe because the idea of being the man who hurts you… it killed me, Tess. I would rather walk off the top of a building than be the reason you cry.”
“You aren’t him,” I say firmly, pressing my palm against the rough stubble of his jaw. “Ethan, you’re the most protective man I have ever met. You built a company to protect your brothers. You’re fighting Sterling for us right now. You aren’t Richard.”
“I want to be the partner you deserve,” he says, turning his face into my hand, kissing my palm. “I want to be the father this baby deserves. I just don’t know how to do it. I don’t have the code for this.”
“None of us do,” I remind him. “That’s the point. We figure it out. Like a bug fix.”
He lets out an incredulous, breathy laugh, opening his eyes. They’re dark with emotion and a sudden, sharp hunger.
“A bug fix,” he repeats, shaking his head. “God, I love you.”
The words hang in the air, heavier and more real than the pregnancy, than the hack, than the Series B funding. He’s said it before, in the heat of passion, in the dark. But here, in the dim light of my living room, on his knees, it feels like a vow.
“I love you,” he says again, intense and possessive. “I love you, and I love this baby. And I swear to you, Tessa, I’ll burn Nebula to the ground before I let anyone make you feel unsafe again.”
“I believe you,” I whisper.
And I do. The fear eating me alive for days dissolves.
It’s replaced by a heat starting low in my belly and spreading outward, flushing my skin.
My hormones have been haywire for weeks—nausea, fatigue, tears—but right now, seeing the raw power and vulnerability in his face, the only thing I feel is need.
“Ethan,” I breathe, my voice dropping.
He hears the shift. His pupils dilate, swallowing the blue of his eyes. His gaze drops to my mouth, then lower, to the curve of my breasts under my thin tank top, and finally to my stomach.
“Is it…” he starts, his voice hoarse. “Is it okay? To touch? To…”
“Asher said it’s a biological function,” I say, a small smile playing on my lips. “I think that means we’re clear.”
Ethan growls, a low, primal sound vibrating in his chest. He stands up, looming over me, blocking out the light.
“I missed you,” he says, gripping the back of the sofa, boxing me in. “It felt like I was starving.”
“Me too,” I admit. “Show me. Show me you’re all in.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice.
He bends down and captures my mouth. It’s desperate and rough, teeth grazing my lip, tongue sweeping inside to taste me. He tastes like coffee.
I moan, throwing my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. I need his weight. I need to feel him solid against me to know he isn’t going to run again.
He pulls back, breathing hard, his forehead resting against mine.
“Owen and Asher…”
“Will join us when they get here,” he says, sweeping me up into his arms as if I weigh nothing. “But right now? I need you all to myself. I need to apologize to every inch of you.”
Carrying me to the bedroom, he kicks the door open and lays me on the mattress, following instantly to cover my body with his. His body is heavy, warm, and entirely encompassing.
Leaving our clothes on, he slides his hand under the hem of my tank top and pushes it up. His large, calloused hand rests on my bare stomach.
He stops, holding his breath.
“Hi,” he breathes against my skin.
It shatters my last remaining defense. The terrifying CEO, the man who destroys competitors for sport, whispering to a bump that isn’t even there yet.
He lowers his head and kisses my stomach softly, reverently, over and over.
“You’re mine,” he murmurs against my skin, the vibration igniting the nerves along my spine. “Both of you. Mine. I’m going to build you a world where nothing can touch you.”
“Ethan,” I gasp, my hips arching off the mattress instinctively. The sensation of his stubble against my soft stomach is sharp and grounding. “Please.”
His eyes snap up, wild. “Please what, baby? Tell me what you need.”
“Fuck me, Ethan,” I beg. “Don’t make me wait.”
He sits up, his movements jerky with haste. He tears off his shirt, buttons flying, not caring where they land. His chest is heaving, his skin flushed. He unbuckles his belt, the sound of the leather snapping echoing in the quiet room.
He strips me quickly, worshipping my body with his eyes as he reveals me. When he pulls my panties down, his eyes darken at the sight of how wet I am.
“God,” he groans. “You’re ready for me.”
“Always,” I whimper.
He settles between my legs, spreading them wide, hooking my knees over his elbows. It’s a position leaving me completely open to him, completely vulnerable.
“Eyes on me,” he orders, his voice dropping to that CEO tone. The one demanding obedience.
I obey, locking my gaze with his.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he vows, the head of his cock pressing against my clit. “I’m right here. I’m staying.”
He thrusts.
It’s slow, deliberate, stretching me, filling me completely. I cry out, my head falling back into the pillow. It feels different. It feels deeper. Maybe it’s the hormones, or maybe it’s the emotion, but everything is heightened. Every nerve ending is on fire.
“You feel incredible,” he grinds out, his jaw clenched tight.
He begins to move, his strokes are long and punishingly deep. He isn’t being gentle, but he isn’t hurting me. He’s grounding me. Every thrust is a promise. I’m here. I’m here. I’m here.
I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, meeting his rhythm. My hands rake down his back, feeling the muscles bunch and flex as he moves.
“Ethan,” I moan, the pleasure building rapidly, a heavy, unavoidable rush. “I’m close. I’m already close.”
“Let go,” he growls, leaning down to bite the sensitive cord of my neck. “Come for me, Tessa. Come for your child’s father.”
The words break the dam.
I scream his name as the orgasm hits, violent and all-consuming. My body clamps around him, convulsing, holding him tight.
He groans, a guttural roar, and drives into me hard and fast, before he spills himself inside me.
He collapses on top of me, pressing his feverish forehead into the curve of my shoulder, his heart hammering against mine.
We lie there in the tangle of sheets, slick with sweat, breathing the same air.
“I love you,” he whispers into my skin.
“I love you too,” I reply, my voice wrecked.
We stay like that for minutes, just existing in the safety of the aftermath.
Then, the front door opens.
“We come bearing gifts,” Owen’s voice calls out from the living room. “And by gifts, I mean caffeine and a very expensive encrypted router.”
“Bedroom,” Ethan calls out, not moving an inch.
There’s a pause. Then footsteps.
Owen leans against the doorframe, a smirk playing on his lips, though his eyes are warm. Asher stands behind him, holding a stack of equipment, entirely unfazed.
“We leave you alone for twenty minutes,” Owen teases, taking in the scene—the clothes on the floor, the sweat, the way Ethan is still draped over me.
“We were having a strategic alignment meeting,” Ethan says, lifting his head but not pulling out. He meets his brothers’ gaze. The shame is gone. The fear is gone. He’s the Alpha again.
“Did we reach a consensus?” Asher asks, stepping into the room and setting the equipment on the dresser.
“Yes,” I say, reaching a hand out toward them. “Get over here.”
Owen kicks off his shoes and climbs onto the bed.
He settles against the headboard and pulls me back, sitting me up slightly so my spine is flush against his chest, his hands immediately finding my breasts.
Ethan adjusts his grip on my hips, remaining anchored between my legs as I lean back into his brother.
“He can keep your lower half,” Owen whispers against my ear, biting the lobe. “I want your mouth.”
Asher rounds the other side of the bed. He’s more methodical. He removes his shirt, folds it neatly, and climbs onto the mattress. He kneels beside us, fixing me with that intense, analytical gaze.
“Status report?” Asher asks, his hand sliding down my leg, his fingers trailing fire.
“Overloaded,” I admit, turning my head to catch Owen’s lips while Ethan rolls his hips, starting a slow, lazy rhythm.
“Then let us absorb the excess variable,” Asher murmurs against my skin.
He leans down and kisses me. Asher’s kisses are precise, consuming. He explores my mouth while Owen’s hands tease my nipples, and Ethan rocks his hips against mine.
I’m surrounded.
“I traced the payment,” Asher murmurs against my lips, breaking the kiss but staying close. “While Owen was buying the food. I found the link between Greg and a shell account registered to Markus Vance’s personal estate.”
“Do you have proof?” Ethan asks, his eyes snapping open, focusing on his brother.
“Definitive,” Asher confirms, his hand moving between my legs, finding the spot where Ethan is joined with me, rubbing my clit. “We have him.”
“Good,” Ethan growls, thrusting up into me, hitting a spot that rips a gasp from my throat. “Tomorrow, we will destroy him. Tonight… tonight we celebrate.”
“Celebrate the expansion of the Unit,” Owen grins, his hand sliding down to rest on my stomach, right between us all.
“To the expansion,” Asher agrees.
The conversation dies, replaced by sound and sensation. Ethan picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming harder, more demanding. Owen’s hands work their magic on my chest, while Asher focuses entirely on my pleasure, his fingers working in rhythm with Ethan’s movements.
I’m the center of their universe.
“More,” I beg, my head tossing back against Owen’s shoulder. “Please, more.”
“Take it all,” Ethan demands, gripping my hips hard enough to bruise the skin. “Take everything we have.”
The second climax builds more slowly, deeper. It feels heavy, rolling through my body like a storm. I’m crying again, but this time they’re tears of pure, unadulterated joy. I’m pregnant. I’m terrified. We’re at war.
But right now, I’ve never felt more invincible.
“Come on, Tess,” Owen urges, biting my neck. “Let go.”
“Together,” Asher whispers, kissing my throat.
“Mine,” Ethan growls.
I break apart, my body arching like a bow, my voice shattering on their names. I feel Owen shudder against my back as he finds his own release in his jeans. I feel Ethan pour into me again. I feel Asher’s breath catch as he watches me come apart.
We collapse into a tangle of limbs and heavy breathing. Asher reaches over, pulling the sheet up over my shoulders, while Ethan’s grip on my hip tightens, grounding me as the night closes in.