The air between us turned heavy, thick with heat and unspoken tension. His grip on my waist tightened, firm and possessive, his breath close as his voice dropped into something low and demanding. "Focus on me."
Before I could respond, he had already lifted me onto the bed. His presence loomed over me, strong and unyielding, as if the space itself bent under his control. His eyes locked onto mine, and his tone came out like a command rather than a request. "Take it off."
I followed his gaze, and my breath caught. Instinctively, my hands moved to cover my abdomen as unease crept in. I looked up at him, my voice soft but firm. "The doctor said we shouldn't. It could harm the child."
I wasn't going to give in.
His expression changed at once. The calm in his eyes darkened, something sharper rising beneath the surface. "So what?" he said, his voice low and edged with restraint. "You expect me to just stop like this?"
