Page 68 of Tempting Tessa

“You need to,” I say firmly. “This isn’t optional, Contessa.”

She glares at me, but starts unbuttoning her pants with shaking fingers. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Forcing me to do things I don’t want to do.”

I step closer until we’re almost touching. “I’m enjoying taking care of you, yes. There’s a difference.”

She scoffs but continues to undress. I help her onto the exam table, my hand steadying her when she wobbles. Her skin is cold to the touch, goosebumps rising on her thighs.

“Matteo,” she whispers as I drape a blanket over her lap. “What if something’s wrong?”

“Nothing will be wrong.” I press a kiss to her forehead. “And if there is, we’ll handle it. Together.”

Dr. Chen returns, carrying a small device with a wand attached.

Contessa’s face pales.

“That goes…inside?”

“Just a little,” Dr. Chen assures her. “It won’t hurt.”

I take Contessa’s hand as Dr. Chen positions herself at the end of the table. Her fingers are ice-cold in mine, trembling slightly.

“Ready?” Dr. Chen asks.

Contessa nods, squeezing my hand so tight I feel my bones grind together. I don’t flinch. She can break every bone in my hand if it helps her get through this.

The room fills with silence, broken only by the soft whir of the machine. Dr. Chen works with practiced efficiency; her eyes focused on the monitor. Contessa stares at the ceiling, her breathing shallow.

Then I hear it—a rapid, rhythmic sound filling the room. My heart stutters in my chest.

“That’s your baby’s heartbeat,” Dr. Chen says, smiling. “Strong and steady at about 160 beats per minute. Perfect for this stage.”

I look at the monitor and there it is. A tiny, pulsing light, no bigger than a grain of rice. My child. My future.

“Look,” I tell Contessa, my voice rough with emotion I didn’t expect to feel.

She turns her head toward the screen, tears welling in her eyes. “Is that...”

“That’s our baby,” I confirm, squeezing her hand.

Dr. Chen points to different parts of the image. “This is the gestational sac, and here we can see the yolk sac. Everything looks exactly as it should for about eight weeks.”

I can’t tear my eyes away from that pulsing light. Something primal and fierce rises in my chest—the need to protect, to claim, to ensure nothing ever threatens what’s mine.

“The baby measures right on track,” Dr. Chen continues, taking measurements. “I’d estimate you’re about eight weeks and two days along.”

Eight weeks. That means it happened the first time I fucked her without protection. The first time I pumped my cum deep inside her, claiming her in the most basic way possible.

“It’s really in there,” Contessa whispers, her free hand drifting to her still-flat stomach. “I’m really pregnant.”

I bring her hand to my lips, kissing her knuckles. “Yes, you are. And you’re going to be amazing.”

Dr. Chen prints several images and hands them to Contessa. “These are your first baby pictures.”

Dr. Chen finishes the exam and gives Contessa instructions about prenatal vitamins, nutrition, and when to schedule her next appointment.

We sit in silence as Contessa stares at the ultrasound photos. Her tears have dried, leaving streaks on her cheeks. I should say something comforting, but words seem inadequate.

“Let’s go home,” I finally say, helping her sit up.