The plastic stick sits on the edge of the marble sink.
Two red lines.
Solid.
Unmistakable.
I stare at it.
My breath hitches.
My pulse roars in my ears.
I don’t move.
I can’t move.
The door clicks open.
Footsteps.
Heavy.
Steady.
Familiar.
He walks in.
No knock.
He never knocks.
My Daddy.
My alpha.
My ruin.
My everything.
He stops in the doorway.
Takes me in.
The test.
My hands.
My face.
His eyes darken.
Not surprise.
Not shock.
Satisfaction.
Absolute.
Unshaken.
He closes the door behind him.
The lock turns.
He crosses the room in three strides.
I should step back.
I don’t.
I never do with him.
His hands slide to my waist.
Pull me flush against him.
His chest is hard.
Warm.
Solid.
A shield.
A claim.
He looks down at my face.
His thumb brushes my lower lip. “Well,” he murmurs.
Voice low.
Rough. “Looks like I won.” I swallow.
My throat is tight. “You won.” “Yeah.” His jaw tightens.
Just a fraction. “I always do.” He lifts my chin.
Forces me to hold his gaze.
Those eyes.
Steel and velvet.
Burning. “You’re carrying my child.” Not a question.
A statement.
A coronation.
I nod.
Once.
Hard. “Yes.” A slow smile cuts across his face.
Not gentle.
Predatory.
Possessive.
Exactly how I crave it. “Good.” He presses his forehead to mine.
Breath mingling.
Heat radiating. “You’re staying.
You’re keeping it.
You’re mine.” My chest swells.
Tears prick my eyes.
I don’t fight them.
I don’t need to. “I’m yours,” I whisper. “Always.” He groans.
Low.
Raw.
His hands slide up my back.
Fingers digging into my hair.
Tilt my head back.
He kisses me.
Deep.
Demanding.
Tongue sweeping.
Claiming.
Tasting.
I melt into it.
Every nerve ending alight.
Every instinct screaming yes.
This is home.
This is right.
This is love.
Instalove.
No question.
No doubt.
Just him.
Just us.
Just the future growing inside me.
He breaks the kiss.
Breathing ragged.
Eyes black with want. “You came to this room for a massage.” He drags his thumb over my pulse point.
Feels it hammer. “You came for touch.
For relief.
For me.” His voice drops.
Razor sharp. “You’re leaving with my ring.” My breath stops.
He reaches into his pocket.
Slow.
Deliberate.
The box glints in the low light.
Black velvet.
Heavy.
Expensive.
He clicks it open.
The ring catches the light.
Platinum.
Diamond.
A single stone.
Massive.
Flawless.
Beset by smaller stones.
It screams legacy.
It screams forever.
It screams him.
My hands tremble. “Daddy…” I choke.
He steps back.
Just enough.
Kneels.
Right there on the plush rug.
One knee down.
But he doesn’t shrink.
He expands.
Fills the room.
Fills my world.
His gaze locks onto mine.
Unblinking. “Jessa.” My name on his tongue.
A vow.
A command. “You’re carrying my heir.
My blood.
My future.” His thumb strokes the back of my hand. “You don’t have to say yes.
But I need you to know.
I’m not letting go.
I’m not sharing.
I’m not walking away.
You’re mine.
The baby’s mine.
We’re a unit.
A family.
Starting now.” My vision blurs.
The tears spill.
Hot.
Fast.
He cups my face.
Wipes them away. “Say it,” he demands.
Soft.
But unyielding. “Say you’ll wear it.
Say you’ll take my name.
Say you’ll let me fuck you until you drown in my cum.
Say you’ll let me build you a life where you never have to doubt for a second.” My voice breaks. “Yes.” He doesn’t hesitate.
Slides the ring onto my finger.
It fits.
Perfect.
Like it was forged for my hand.
Like it was always meant to be there.
He stands.
Pulls me up with him.
Cages me against his chest.
One arm around my waist.
The other cradling my back.
He kisses my temple.
My cheek.
My mouth. “Good girl,” he murmurs. “So good for me.” I wrap my arms around his neck.
Bury my face in his neck.
Breathe him in.
Cedar.
Musk.
Home. “I’m pregnant,” I whisper. “I know.” “You’re going to be a father.” “I already am.” He pulls back.
Looks down at my stomach.
His hand slides over it.
Heavy.
Reverent.
Possessive. “We’re going to fill this house with noise,” he says.
Voice thick. “With life.
With you.
All of you.” I nod.
My hand covers his. “Yes.” He grips my waist.
Pulls me tighter. “And when I take you apart in this bed,” he says, voice dropping to a rough growl, “I’m going to breed you again.
Again.
And again.
Until you’re overflowing with my kids.
Until you can’t walk without feeling me inside you.
Until you beg for my cock just to hear it stretch you open.
Until you’re nothing but a warm, wet pussy waiting for my cum.” My breath hitches.
Heat floods my core.
He feels it.
Smiles.
Dark.
Satisfied. “You want it,” he states. “I need it.” “Then take it.” He scoops me up.
One arm under my knees.
The other under my back.
Carries me to the massage table.
Sets me down.
But doesn’t let go.
I reach for him.
Pull him down.
We collide.
Lips.
Teeth.
Tongue.
Desperate.
Starving.
His hands are everywhere.
Undressing me.
Rough.
Fast.
Buttons popping.
Fabric falling.
I arch into him.
Need more.
Need all of him.
He strips to his waist.
Chest.
Shoulders.
Arms.
Perfect.
Ripped.
Scarred.
Mine.
He lines himself up.
Cock thick.
Hard.
Veined.
Pre-cum beading.
I reach down.
Grip him.
Squeeze.
He hisses.
Eyes roll back. “Fuck, Jessa.” “I know,” I whisper. “I know how you work.” He grabs my wrists.
Pins them above my head. “You’re not touching yet.” “Daddy—” “Wait.” His hips roll.
Just once.
Friction.
Electric. “You’re going to take every inch.
Swallow it all.
And you’re going to cum when I tell you.
Not before.” I nod.
Shaking.
Aroused.
Ready.
He lines up.
Presses the tip inside.
I gasp.
Stretch.
Burn.
Sweet.
Perfect.
He pushes in.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Inch by inch.
Filling me.
Claiming me.
Breeding me.
I cry out.
Arch.
Claw his shoulders. “There,” he growls. “That’s it.
Take it.
Take your man.” He bottoms out.
Balls deep.
Stills.
Lets me adjust.
Lets me feel him.
Every ridge.
Every vein.
Every pound of him.
I wrap my legs around his waist.
Pull him deeper.
He groans.
Rough.
Raw. “Fuck.
You’re so tight.
So fucking perfect.” He pulls back.
Slams home.
Hard.
Fast.
Rhythmic.
I match him.
Thrust up.
Meet him.
I’m drowning in him.
In the stretch.
In the weight.
In the promise.
He grabs my hips.
Anchors me.
Fucks me like he’s trying to plant a seed in my soul.
Deep.
Relentless.
Punishing.
Beautiful. “Look at me,” he demands.
I do.
His eyes are burning. “You’re mine,” he repeats. “Body.
Mind.
Womb.
Forever.” “Yes,” I sob. “Always.” He speeds up.
Hips blurring.
Cock slapping against my clit.
Pumping.
Stretching.
Filling.
I’m close.
Too close. “Not yet,” he warns. “Not until I say.” I whine.
Beg.
He leans down.
Bites my shoulder.
Hard.
Marking.
Claiming. “Cum for me, baby girl.” I shatter.
Waves crash through me.
Pussy clenching.
Cock drowning.
I scream his name.
He follows.
Grabs my waist.
Drives deep.
Holds me there.
Thinks.
Pulsing.
Hot.
Thick.
Cum flooding my womb.
Breeding me.
Again.
Again.
Again.
I feel it coat me.
Fill me.
Claim me.
He stays buried.
Groaning.
Shuddering. “Fuck,” he breathes. “Yeah.” He pulls out slowly.
I miss him.
Instantly.
He collapses beside me.
Pulls me against his chest.
Arm heavy.
Leg tangled.
Heart beating against my back.
I trace the scars on his arm.
His hand covers mine.
Squeezes. “You okay?” he asks.
Voice rough.
But soft.
I nod. “More than okay.” He kisses my hair. “Good.” His hand rests on my stomach.
Again. “He’s going to be perfect.” I smile.
Eyes closed. “He’s already perfect.” He hums.
Satisfied. “I’m not letting you go.
Not ever.
This ring stays on.
My name stays on your door.
My cock stays in your pussy.
My cum stays in your womb.” I turn.
Face him.
Cup his jaw. “I know.” He leans in.
Kisses me.
Slow.
Sweet.
Final. “HEA,” he murmurs against my lips. “For us.” “Always,” I whisper. “Always.” The ring gleams.
The baby kicks.
He smiles.
I melt.
No more fear.
No more doubt.
Just him.
Just us.
Just forever.
I close my eyes.
Breathe him in.
Happy ending.
Right here.
Right now.
Always.