Chapter 253
Aria's POV
I shook my head quickly. "No, I'll tell him myself." The words sounded hollow even to my own ears.
Stepping out of the doctor's office, I clutched the medical report in my trembling hand, the doctor's words echoing through my mind: "Congratulations, Ms. Harper, you're approximately six weeks pregnant."
Six weeks pregnant. The thought made my head spin. I walked blindly down the hospital corridor, my mind racing. How could this happen? We'd been careful—mostly. There was that night after the Eden incident, and the time in his penthouse when the condom broke. My free hand instinctively moved to my stomach as I tried to process this life-changing news.
Lost in thought, I collided with someone. Strong hands steadied me by the shoulders, and I looked up to find Devon's gray eyes scrutinizing my face.
"Aria?" His voice held a note of concern I rarely heard. "Are you alright?"
I quickly tucked the medical report behind my back, forcing a smile that felt brittle. "Devon. I didn't expect to see you here."
His gaze swept over me, lingering on my pale face. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I'm fine," I lied, desperately searching for a distraction. "How's Evelyn doing?"
Something flickered in his eyes—suspicion, perhaps—but he didn't press. "She's stable. The doctor says she can be discharged tomorrow."
I nodded, grateful he didn't question me further. My heart hammered against my ribs as I realized the enormity of what I was hiding from him. A baby. His baby.
"Let me drive you home," he said, more command than offer.
In the luxury sedan, we sat in tense silence. Devon's fingers drummed rhythmically against the leather seat, while I stared out the window at Manhattan's skyline. The medical report felt like it was burning a hole in my purse. Every few minutes, Devon would glance at me, his expression unreadable.
I snuck sideways glances at his profile, thoughts whirling. This pregnancy would change everything. Our relationship was based on a contract, a business arrangement with benefits. A child had never been part of the equation. Would this be the thing that finally drove him away? Or worse, would it bind me to him permanently?
"Whatever it is," Devon said suddenly, breaking the silence, "you can tell me."
My throat tightened. Could I? Would he see this child as an inconvenience, an obstacle to his carefully ordered life? Or would he embrace it, smothering me with control disguised as care?
"Just tired," I managed, hating how easily the lies came now.
At his penthouse, I helped him remove his shirt buttons, noticing the cufflinks Evelyn had chosen for him. Devon caught my hand, his thumb tracing small circles on my wrist. "You've been distracted all day. What's going on, Aria?"
I shook my head, avoiding his penetrating gaze. "Nothing important."
In the bathroom, under the warm shower spray, Devon pulled me against him. His body was tense, almost hungry in its approach. He hadn't touched me for days, and I could feel the need radiating from him. One hand cradled my neck while the other slid down my waist.
"I've missed you," he whispered, his lips finding mine in a kiss that was anything but gentle. His tongue pushed into my mouth, claiming me with an urgency that made my knees weak. "Have you missed me?" His voice was rough against my ear.
The possessive question stirred something in me. I thought about the past few days, how he'd been absent, tending to Evelyn while I discovered this life-changing news alone. A twinge of jealousy and hurt bloomed in my chest.
"What about you?" I asked, pulling back slightly to look at him. "Have you missed me?"
His eyes darkened. Without answering, he pressed me against the cool tile wall, his erection hard against my stomach. "What do you think?" he said, his hands gripping my hips, lifting me slightly.
My body responded to him—it always did—but as he positioned himself between my legs, ready to thrust inside me, panic flashed through me. The baby. I wasn't sure if rough sex would harm it, but I couldn't take that chance.
"Devon, wait," I gasped, my hands against his chest. "Please... be gentle."
He froze, water cascading over his shoulders. His eyes searched mine, confused by my unusual request. I'd never asked him to be gentle before—if anything, I'd often matched his intensity.
"Aria?" His voice softened, a question in those gray eyes.
I couldn't tell him why. Not yet. "Just... please. Tonight."
Something in my tone must have registered because his expression changed. The fierce hunger didn't disappear, but it transformed. He lowered me back to my feet, his hands now cradling my face.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, scanning my body for injuries he might have missed.
I shook my head. "No. I just... need you different tonight."
Devon studied me for a long moment. Then, with deliberate slowness, he turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around me. He led me to the bedroom, his movements careful, as if I might break.
On the bed, he laid me down with uncharacteristic tenderness. His usual commanding presence gave way to something I'd rarely seen—attentiveness. He kissed me deeply but slowly, his hands exploring my body with patient care.
When he finally entered me, it was with measured control. His eyes never left mine as he moved inside me, his pace restrained despite the tension in his muscles that betrayed his effort.
"Is this what you need?" he asked, his voice tight with the strain of holding back.
I nodded, wrapping my legs around his waist, drawing him deeper but maintaining the gentle rhythm. The sensation was different—not the overwhelming rush I was used to, but something deeper, more intimate.
Devon's hand slid between us, his fingers finding the sensitive bundle of nerves between my legs. He circled it slowly, deliberately, watching my face as pleasure built inside me.
"Devon," I gasped, my back arching as my orgasm approached.
His movements remained controlled, his gaze intense. "Let go, Aria," he urged, his fingers increasing their pressure slightly. "I've got you."
When release came, it wasn't the violent crash I was accustomed to, but a long, rolling wave that seemed to go on and on. Devon followed shortly after, his body tensing above me, a low groan escaping his throat as he pulsed inside me.
Afterward, Devon fell asleep with his arm draped protectively across my waist. I lay awake, watching his face in repose, the harsh lines softened in sleep. I gently smoothed the furrow between his brows with my fingertip, my heart a battleground of warmth and fear.
Suddenly, Devon's eyes opened, a flash of something feral in them before recognition set in and his gaze softened. His hand drifted absently to rest on my lower abdomen, and I froze, my breath catching. Did he somehow sense the tiny life growing there? But his eyes drifted closed again, his breathing evening out as sleep reclaimed him.
I remained awake through the night, staring at the city lights through the floor-to-ceiling windows. My hand joined his over my stomach, and I wondered what kind of mother I would be. My own had been loving but taken too soon. Would I know how to love this child? Would Devon want to be a father? The questions multiplied with each passing hour.