Aria
The words on the test stared back at me.
Four plus weeks.
No. It was wrong. The test was faulty. It had to be.
I had the implant. I’d had it done when I was with Jason.
When he’d realised I was on the pill, he’d got rid of them and refused to use anything when I was with him.
I was so scared of becoming pregnant with a man like him that the idea of having his child made me feel sick.
Callum took me to an appointment to get it done, so he would never find out.
The implant lasted three years, and I’d had this in …
Fuck.
Four years.
No. That couldn’t be right. I could feel myself getting flustered as I started to take deep breaths in and exhale slowly, twisting the star ring Callum had given me.
I didn’t even know if Sebastian wanted children. We’d never spoken about it.
A loud bang sounded out as the bedroom door flew open, and I quickly hid the test in a drawer and hurried out of the en suite.
Sebastian looked over at me, and my eyes flicked to his white shirt covered with blood. I blinked a few times to try to process what I was seeing, my heart racing as I rushed over to him, trying to find where the blood was coming from.
“Sebastian, what the hell? Are you hurt?”
He looked down at me, his eyes darkened to blue flames, his body tense as I ran my hands over him. His knuckles were split, blood covering them.
“It’s not mine.”
I pulled my hands off him, looking down at the flakes of dried blood that had transferred onto my hands. Acid rose from my stomach, trying to force its way to my throat, and I swallowed hard to keep it down.
“What’s going on? Have you been fighting?” My words came out shaky.
“Leave it the fuck alone,” he growled.
I felt the blood drain from my face. Taking a deep, shaking breath, I suppressed the panic. I had to. I needed to get through to him.
“You need to tell me what’s happened,” I begged. “Please don’t shut me out.”
“I need to feel you.”
He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me flush to him, his other hand cradling the back of my head as his lips crashed onto mine. The kiss felt desperate, like he was trying to hold on to something. Like he could feel everything slipping away, and this was the only way he knew how to keep it.
He pulled my T-shirt roughly over my head, then forced me back onto the bed and ripped my lace knickers off.
Goose bumps rose over my skin as my naked body lay there, waiting for him like an offering.
His eyes fixed on mine as he removed his shirt, revealing patches of dried blood that had seeped through the fabric.
He unclipped his buckle, removed his trousers, then positioned himself between my legs.
He stroked his hard length a few times, pre-cum leaking from the tip.
He wiped it with his thumb and ran it over my bottom lip.
“Mine,” he growled.
Then, he thrust deep inside of me. My lips parted, letting out a gasp as my hips arched from the pressure of taking him in one go.
He took hold of my wrists, pinning them above my head with one hand, and started kissing my neck, his motions getting rougher like he was claiming every inch of my body.
“Sebastian,” I moaned.
I could feel the heat lacing through my veins as my core burned, begging for him to bring me to the edge. His lips met mine hard as his grip around my wrists tightened. He pounded deeper into me, causing my breath to hitch, my lips breaking free from his.
“This is all fucking mine,” he growled in my ear, then bit down hard on my neck.
I let out a cry, half mixed with pleasure and pain. My body started to tremble, my orgasm taking me by surprise as I let out an intense moan, ecstasy bursting through me.
“Fuck,” Sebastian groaned.
His body jerked against mine, spilling everything into me. His motions slowed, and he released the tight grip on my wrists. We breathed heavily against one another for a beat before he pushed himself up, withdrawing from me, and climbed off the bed.
A shiver ran up my spine from the coldness in the room. I rose to my elbows as I watched him grab some clothes from his walk-in wardrobe.
He didn’t say a word. He didn’t even turn to acknowledge me. My heart sank into the pit of my stomach, and I swallowed, scrambling off the bed and stumbling back to the en suite, nausea swirling in my stomach.
I locked the door behind me, fell to my knees next to the toilet, and retched a few times before everything came up. Tears fell from my eyes as I dry-heaved a few more times before it stopped. Grabbing hold of the sink to help me back up, I flushed the toilet and slowly made my way to the mirror.
The dried blood on Sebastian had mixed with our sweat and transferred onto me—a smudge of red, running down from my bottom lip. I rushed over to the shower, turning it on to hot, and stepped under it to try and wash it off. Water mixed with maroon trickled down my body, making its way to the drain.
When the water ran clear, I leaned against the tiles and slid down, pulling my knees to my chest as the hot water pounded over me.
That was not the man I fell in love with.
I couldn’t stay with a man like that.
I placed my hand on my stomach.
I couldn’t raise a baby with him.