LOGINRavenI take my time getting ready.That’s new for me. I’m usually the kind of person who decides what to wear in five minutes and spends the rest of the time looking for my other shoe. But tonight is different. Tonight I want to look like someone who cannot be broken, because someone tried very recently and failed, and I want Vivienne Marie Cole to see that the moment I walk through the door.I choose a deep emerald dress that hits the floor, simple in cut but the kind of fabric that moves like water when I walk. My hair is down, loose waves, the way Roman always reaches for it first. My makeup is minimal except for my eyes, dark and deliberate.I look at myself in the mirror for a long moment, my hand drifting to my belly. There’s no visible bump yet, but it feels tighter than before.Then I pick up the single glass of wine I’ve allowed myself tonight.I haven’t had a drop of alcohol since I found out about Mason. But tonight is special. Tonight I’m going to watch Vivienne Cole
RavenThe sonography room is dim and quiet, the kind of quiet that feels volitional, like the whole world has agreed to hold its breath for a few minutes.I lie back on the table while the sonographer, a soft-spoken woman with careful hands, prepares the equipment. Roman stands slightly back from the bed, one hand tucked into his pocket, watching the screen with the focused stillness he brings to everything that matters to him.The cold gel. The probe. The familiar process I’ve been through twice now, except this time my heart is in my throat differently because twenty-four hours ago I was on a cold floor and I don’t know what that did to what’s growing inside me.Then the image appears on the screen.And the sound.That heartbeat.Strong. Fast. Completely healthy.Something releases in my chest so suddenly my eyes fill before I even decide to cry.Our baby. My precious little miracle.,“Everything looks perfect,” the sonographer says, moving the probe slightly, measuring, c
Roman“You need to control yourself.”“Yeah.” She grins, rolling her hips against the bed the way she knew always makes me go crazy. “I know you want this as much as I do. You are hard. I can see the bulge from here.”She is damn right. I’m painfully and visibly hard. But only a depraved man would fuck a sick patient in the hospital ward.“Fuck, sweetheart. You’re not making this easy.” I palm my dick, trying to regain control of my body before I snap and fuck her like I’ve been wanting to since last night, when I had her against my car.God, how I wanted to strip her bare on the street and fuck her in front of all those moving cars.“Oh, really? I thought I was being pretty easy. Let me simplify. I want you to fuck me, Roman. I want to feel you deep inside of me, stretching me and marking me. I want you to remind me what it means to be yours.”My body is vibrating with need, my cock leaking pre-cum all over the fucking place. My hands ghost up her body in those damn hospital
RavenI open my eyes slowly.The ceiling is white and unfamiliar for exactly three seconds before I place it.Hospital. Again. Fuck. Roman is pacing the length of the room, jacket off, sleeves rolled, his phone face down on the chair beside my bed. He found me in the tub. I must have passed out. Roman stops the moment he sees me looking at him and crosses the room immediately, sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes moving over my face with that particular intensity he gets when he’s been frightened and is refusing to show it.“You scared me,” he says quietly.“I’m okay.”“You were unconscious in the bathtub. That’s not okay.” His jaw tightens. “Did someone do this to you? Tell me what happened.”Vivienne’s heel pressing down on my shoulder flashes through my mind immediately. The cold marble beneath me. The cramping. Her crouching down with that wine glass, her voice low and certain, telling me the baby was better off gone.I open my mouth.Close it again.He’s marry
RavenVivienne’s grip tightens.“You know,” she says conversationally, addressing her friends more than me, “she’s pregnant.”A murmur ripples through the group.“So she’s a whore?” one of the girls sneers.“Exactly.” Vivienne smiles. “A cheap, disgusting whore who’s about to become my husband’s problem in a very permanent and deeply embarrassing way.”One of the women lets out a soft laugh.Rage surges through me, momentarily overpowering the pain.“You are crazy!” I scream. “Let go of me!”My struggle only seems to amuse them.When Vivienne releases my hair it isn’t gentle. It’s a shove, both hands, sending me stumbling sideways and down.I hit the floor hard.Pain explodes through my hip, my side, and then something else, something low and cramping and wrong that steals the breath clean out of my lungs.I try to get up.Vivienne steps forward and plants her heel against my shoulder, pinning me down.“Where are you going? Want to run off and tell Daddy I hurt you?”“Get off me.” My v
Raven“Sounds like a challenge I’m willing to take.”A slow smile spreads across my face as I fold my arms over my chest.“No. You’re going to be a good girl for Daddy and do as you’re told.”God help me, I’m sore.So swollen and raw from last night that even standing here is its own sharp, throbbing kind of awareness. And having this man’s hands on me, his voice, his eyes on me, only makes me want him to take me again. Or better.I don’t know anymore.All I know is that for the past few days, I’ve been living with this relentless need I can’t seem to shake. Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones. Maybe it’s the knowledge that a part of him is growing inside me. Whatever it is, every time Roman gets near, my body wants him.It’s ridiculous. I should want a break. Recovery. A moment to breathe.Instead, I find myself wanting him to follow through on every threat he just made. To rip my clothes off and shove me against the nearest available surface.“Get in the car, kid.” He says it again
RavenJames pulls up to the house and I sit in the backseat for a moment longer than necessary.Boston.The familiar driveway. The familiar hedges trimmed to the same precise height they always are. The same stone facade that has never once felt like home no matter how many years I’ve lived behin
RomanI wrap an arm around her automatically.She cups my face in both hands and kisses me.Soft at first. Just her mouth against mine, slow and deliberate. The kind of kiss meant to say something that doesn’t have words yet.I feel the tension in my chest begin to loosen.She pulls back slight
RomanShe doesn’t know I’m watching her.She’s turned toward the window, chin resting lightly on her hand, eyes somewhere far beyond the clouds below us. Her hair falls loose over one shoulder. The morning light comes through the small oval window and finds her face like it was looking for her sp
RomanThe warehouse sits at the edge of the Navigli district, far enough from the tourist streets that no one asks questions about what happens inside.I straighten my jacket as I push through the door.The space is dim. Water stains are crawling up the concrete walls. A single bulb hanging from th







