#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.

sharp against the sensitive skin of my abdomen.

better,” I murmur, smirking a little

before the fire, Victor’s naked body pressed against my back, his arms wrapped around me. I can feel

I allow myself a moment to quietly reminisce

so exhausted. I listen, but there’s no patter of little boy feet that might have spoken to my subconscious. Then

telltale ache in my lower back that echoes in the muscles of my upper thighs. My eyes go wide

grabbing a blanket to

shut, quickly locking it. I drop my blanket and sitting quickly on my toilet, ignoring the fact that it’s as cold as ice. I tear off a few sheets of toilet paper, fold them neatly into a square, and then

toilet paper again, there’s a dim pink streak

God damnit.

God damnit.

for what feels like an hour, my world shattering and reconfiguring and breaking apart again and again as I realize that I’m not

this new thing I’ve started with Victor kind of depended on me being pregnant. Did I just want to be with him because I wanted a father for my

things different now. Was this all a mistake, now

drop the paper into the bowl and cover my face with my hands, not knowing what to feel,

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 that this is not

the point of it all? If this really is the universe communicating with me, why would it give me that inconclusive test, make me want it, just

thoughts. This isn’t the universe communicating

I feel empty and alone. I try to huff a laugh at myself, then, shaking my head, trying to convince myself that I’m being

and pull myself together, telling myself that I’m being silly. I can’t stay

grateful to see that it’s 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

put-together as I’m going to get today, I steel myself and open my bedroom door. As I do, I’m surprised to

a few silent steps down the stairs and then crouch down to spy through

passing him the next dish to be washed, and Alvin

happy that we’re doing the

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