#Chapter 122 – The Morning After

I feel a growl rumble in Victor’s chest in response to my plea. I smile as I kiss him, pulling him down on top of me as he fumbles at his belt. I know he likes it when I beg.

“Please, Victor,” I murmur, my eyes closed as I cup his cheek in my hand, feeling him kick himself free of his pants. Then, he returns his face to mine, kissing me soundly as he settles himself between my knees, sliding his hand down my abdomen, across my stomach, dipping it between my thighs.

He growls again when he feels how wet I am for him.

My eyes open to look into his as I feel his c**k press against my entrance. I shudder, then, at the feeling of it, in anticipation, in need.

He pauses, though, and I search his face, seeking an explanation for the delay.

“I love you, Evelyn,” he says, his voice soft and serious, “God damnit, I’m so in love with you.” I stroke his face, then, memorizing it, running my thumb over his eyebrows to smooth the worry I see forming between them.

“I know, Victor,” I whisper back, “I know. I love you to.”

He kisses me, then, fiercely, and I can feel the joy and the possession running through him as he pulls me towards him with a hand behind my neck and another against my lower back. Victor holds me close against him as he slides into me. I groan deeply, the sound muffled by his mouth against mine as he kisses me, holding me through each pounding pulse of his hips. He holds me against each shudder of my body as I feel the tension building in me, against each tightening muscle of my body until I spill over the edge, clutching him as I go.

Victor follows soon after, biting my shoulder as he reaches his climax, marking me as his own. I feel the sharp bite of his teeth cut my flesh and hiss, welcoming the sensation. Panting, Victor looks down at my shoulder and then up into my eyes, an apology in them, as well as a question. Did it hurt?

I shake my head no, smiling at him, glad to be marked by him, glad to be his. Softly, gently, he lowers his head again to my shoulder and licks the wound. It’s not very deep; it will be healed by morning.

I pull him back down on top of me, still panting, and enjoy the feeling of his heavy body pressed against mine. I close my eyes, my head pillowed against the blankets, Victor’s resting against my breast, and lazily run my fingers through his hair as I catch my breath.

The utter calm that I feel surprises me. I frown, considering this, but then realize that every time Victor and I have been together before, it was always illicit, always an act of betrayal. This time is the first time, really, that it’s just been about us. I smile, laughing a little, enjoying the thought.

Us.

Victor raises his head, frowning in confusion, but with humor in his eyes. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, baby,” I murmur, pulling his head back down against me.

his beard pleasantly sharp against the sensitive

a little at the double

I wake stretched out before the fire, Victor’s naked body pressed against my back, his

almost ridiculously thrilled, despite the very small amount of sleep that I got. I allow myself a moment

me from such a solid sleep when I’m so exhausted. I listen, but there’s no patter of little boy

back that echoes in the muscles of my upper thighs. My eyes go wide as my hands go instinctually to my breasts. Yes, a tender ache there

then, grabbing a blanket to wrap around myself

Victor mumble as I move quickly away from him, heading for the stairs. I run up them, taking two at a time. When I get to my room, I run to the bathroom and slam the door shut, quickly locking it. I drop my blanket and sitting quickly on my

look at the toilet paper again, there’s a dim pink streak

God damnit.

God damnit.

like an hour, my world shattering and reconfiguring and breaking apart again and again as I realize that I’m not pregnant, that I wanted, very badly

perhaps this new thing I’ve started with Victor kind of depended on me being pregnant.

this all a

bowl and

the universe telling me something? Did it give me this phantom child, showing me a glimpse of the life I could have had with Victor, just to emphasize to me

is the universe communicating with me, why would it

scold myself for these foolish thoughts. This isn’t the universe communicating with me – it’s all merely biological, just

convince myself that I’m being ridiculous. How can I mourn the loss of something I

myself together, telling myself that I’m being silly. I can’t stay in here all day, after all. I have things

empty. I move to my closet and put on a pair of soft pants and a cozy sweater. Then, sitting down at my vanity, I comb through the knots in my hair and put

as put-together as I’m going to get today, I steel myself and open my bedroom door. As I do, I’m surprised to hear noise in the kitchen. It’s still very early in the day – are the boys

silent steps down the stairs and then crouch down to spy

is there – fully dressed – washing dishes in my sink. Ian sits on the counter, passing him the next dish to be washed, and Alvin stands next to him, receiving the clean dishes and drying them before stacking them on the kitchen

happy that we’re doing the dishes?” Alvin asks, looking up

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