The Beast

32

HAZEL

Ronan and I retire to the bedroom. After our thrilling meal, I felt oddly clingy and wanted to be in his arms. Held tenderly in a private space, where no one can interrupt us.

I'm grateful that we didn't get caught in the kitchen. The humiliation would have haunted me for the rest of my life.

Would I sin in that kitchen again, though? Hell yes. Ronan knows how to make me feel alive by fucking me at the edge of morality.

I listen to his heartbeat, my ear pressed against his chest. It beats fast, even now while we're snuggling and relaxing in bed. It's like his body is always prepared to fight. Always amped up. I wonder if he ever truly relaxes. If there are moments that I make him feel so at ease that he forgets about the world.

My fingertips curl, aching to touch my belly. But I don't want Ronan to notice my curiosity. I feel almost embarrassed about my hope for a child.

Whatever happens next will be on both of us. We both chose to be irresponsible. But we will be okay.

"What would you want to name him?" Comes his rumbling voice.

"Who?" I ask, although my heart skips a beat because I know exactly who he's asking about.

"Our Little Lord." He replies.

Something stirs between us. His erection. As if merely thinking about impregnating me arouses him all over again.

"We shouldn't get ahead of ourselves," I whisper, ashamed for being guilty of the same daydreams.

"I know," Ronan replies. "But we're also not supposed to have sex in a kitchen. The rules have never stopped me and they won't stop me now. So please answer my deranged question."

I chuckle, my belly fluttering. "I would have to know the sex before I suggest names."

"Then I'll mark my calendar to revisit this conversation in a few months."

"You have a lot of faith in your seed, don't you?"

"I do."

We snuggle in bed for another hour, tangling the sheets as we twist and turn to enjoy each other in different positions. We don't have sex again, but we get dangerously close. A knock at the door ends our paradise.

It must be serious. Everyone knows not to bother Ronan when he's in his private quarters unless it's an emergency.

We fill out of bed and change into more appropriate clothing. I remain sitting on the edge of the bed as Ronan throws a hoodie on and goes to answer the door.

It's strange, being able to hear his business. As if I'm important enough to be informed of the ins and outs of the Estate. A few months ago, I would have been punished for merely touching the mail of a supervisor. Now, I'm in the Lord's vicinity and exposed to his most confidential, important affairs. Now, no one bats an eye at what I do.

"I'm terribly sorry for disrupting you sir," says Janice from behind the half-parted door.

"Is this about the kitchen? Don't worry, I'll be less messy next time."

I cover my face with both hands, utterly mortified. How can he sound so casual when discussing this! Poor Janice...

"I—I'm not sure I understand you, my Lord."

"Oh, ignore me then. What is it that you need?"

"Sir, one of the five men that chose to leave the estate waits at the gates. He is requesting to return to the estate and his duties."

"Return?"

"Yes. He says that he misses home and living outside the walls is like being in a warzone. He cannot find any jobs."

Ronan sighs. I suspected something like this would happen. The outside world is too cruel to imagine. We're sheltered from it as we live in the estate, and that's what makes it so alluring. But the spell breaks as soon as you step into the town.

I was nearly drugged and trafficked the first day I skipped the wall. The vultures of the world can smell the vulnerability of a sheltered person a mile away.

My heart goes out to this man who got a taste of the putrid world and wants to return home to the estate, but it's not my call. This is Ronan's estate and I've made enough abrupt decisions by having Dakota kicked out.

"He cannot return. He was warned this would happen," Ronan says.

I knew that would be his verdict, but it still saddens me nonetheless.

He must have his reasons. The estate must be protected at all costs and it becomes jeopardized if people are going in and out of it, meeting with outside sources with all types of motives.

"Send him off with enough food and water for the next few days."

I smile. My Lord is soft beneath all his scars and muscles.

"As you wish, my Lord."

Ronan closes the door and sighs. I rise and close the distance between us, embracing him from the back and kissing his shoulder blade.

"Do you wish I never skipped the wall? That I never set these wheels in motion? It's because of me that people sought the right to leave the estate."

"Of course not." He spins around and cups my cheeks. "If you didn't skip the wall, I would've never met you. I regret nothing. Would change nothing." He smiles. "It has all led up to this moment and the future that awaits us."

I chuckle. "The future, huh? You've been thinking about that a lot lately."

"The daydreams come naturally when you meet the perfect woman of your dreams. That reminds me, there's a room a few doors down that I want to empty and start preparations for a nursery."

I laugh. He can't be serious.

"Ronan, slow down. There's no hint of a baby yet. Leave that office alone."

"It was not an office."

"Oh, then what's in there?"

He shrugs. "Back when I had mistresses, they would occasionally sleep there. But there is obviously no need for them anymore. I will have the closet emptied and the bed removed from the bedroom."

My stomach knots, and I feel something keen to disgust.

Ronan must see something on my face because he asks, "what is it?"

"You would... you would want to set the nursery of your child in the room you fucked your mistresses?"

He frowns. "It is just a room, my love. I do not discriminate against any part of my estate. It is my home. Every room has served many lives."

"And many of your orgasms?"

His frown deepens. "What is happening, Hazel? Why are you being this way?"

He's right. I'm being bitter. Not because he has past lovers, but because he wants to set our nest where he devoured those women.

How doesn't he see the glaring problem?

"It just seems disrespectful, Ronan. But there's no sense in arguing about a child that doesn't yet exist. This is what happens when we get ahead of ourselves."

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, knocking his hoodie backwards.

"I do not understand your frustration."

A headache begins to throb.

"I need to go for a walk. Excuse me. I can't do this right now."

He doesn't stop me as I walk away.

So much for snuggles and a peaceful evening.