Chapter 165 Not Even With Me? “How’s your mom doing?” Roman’s voice came from behind me, low and warm, rippling through the soft hiss of bathwater. I exhaled slowly, popping a small bubble that floated past my knee. “Paler,” I said quietly. “Weaker. And a lot thinner, too.” His arms circled me from behind, his body pressing against mine under the water. The solid weight of him grounded me. I leaned back against his chest, closing my eyes as the steam curled around us. “I’m so sorry, Sav.” I tilted my head up to look at him. His gaze softened, full of that same aching empathy I’d come to love and resent all at once. I smiled faintly. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault. Besides, she’s taking it better than I thought she would. Everyone is.” He brushed his thumb against my jaw. “I’ll make out a little time soon and go visit her at the hospital. I should’ve done that already.” “That’ll make her happy,” I murmured, a tiny warmth blooming in my chest. “Thank you.”He smiled back, the corners of his mouth curving gently, and I rose slightly to kiss him. It was supposed to be quick—a soft, grateful kiss—but Roman never did quick when it came to me. His hand slid to the back of my neck, deepening the kiss until the air between us thickened with something heavier. His other hand found my waist beneath the water, gliding upward, tracing my spine until goosebumps rose along my skin. I gasped against his lips as his fingertips drew lazy circles on my back. “Roman…” I whispered, my voice half a sigh. He didn’t answer. His mouth trailed down my neck, his lips hot and hungry. I shivered when his breath ghosted over my collarbone. Then his hand moved to my breast, and the squeeze that followed was the same as usual. But it didn't feel the same. This time it felt rougher. It hurt actually. Pain flickered, sharp and brief. I hissed softly, my body tensing. He froze instantly. His head lifted, eyes wide with concern. “Did I hurt you?” “No.” I shook my head quickly, though the tenderness still pulsed beneath his palm. “It’s fine. Just… a little tender, I guess.” His brows furrowed. “Sav, are you sure?”I didn’t want the concern. I didn’t want the questions. I just wanted to feel him. So instead of answering, I reached up and kissed him again, silencing whatever he was about to say. His breath caught as I pressed my naked body closer to his, the water sloshing softly around us. The tension in his shoulders melted. His hand slid lower, and before I could think, his finger slipped inside me. A startled moan escaped my throat, echoing off the tiles. My hips began grinding against his finger without thinking, desperate for the friction. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew Lizzie was in the living room, probably awkwardly sitting through her horror movies and pretending she couldn’t hear us. I knew I should stay quiet since we have a guest. But every time Roman touched me, reason scattered like smoke. Just like now. We were supposed to be talking about babies tonight. About the future. But all I could focus on was how easily he unraveled me. How expertly his finger pushed in and out of me. His lips brushed my ear. “I need to taste you,” he whispered, voice rough. Before I could respond, Roman stood up, lifting me effortlessly from the tub. Water cascaded down our bodies, hitting the floor in tiny splashes. I wrapped my legs around his waist like a koala, clutching at his shoulders as he reached for a towel. He wrapped it around us in one smooth motion, careful not to slip. By the time my back hit the bed, my pulse was already racing. Roman’s mouth was everywhere—on my collarbone, my throat, the curve of my shoulder. Each kiss felt desperate, like he was trying to memorize me. He moved lower, his lips finding my breasts. He kissed one softly, then the other, open-mouthed and wet. I arched beneath him when his mouth closed around my nipple and gently sucked, fingers threading into his damp hair. “Please…” I begged for nothing in particular as his tongue licked a wet trail down my body until he reached the part I ached for him the most. His head slowly lowered to place a kiss on my throbbing pussy. When he finally looked up at me, his gaze was dark, searching, as though waiting for permission. I gave it with a breathless smile. “Roman…” He smirked, that familiar crooked grin that always made my stomach flip in excitement. Then he lowered his head again, and the air he blew across my core made me jolt. My entire body tightened, anticipation curling low in my belly. Then came the first lick. It was slow, long, and devastating. I gasped, my thighs trembling as he dragged his tongue from top to bottom. My hands shot to his hair, holding him there as my hips bucked involuntarily against his face. His tongue moved in lazy circles, then firmer strokes, until the only sounds in the room were my moans and the soft rhythm of his breathing between my thighs. “Roman…” My voice cracked around his name. My body burned for him, for everything he was giving and everything he was about to take. For a fleeting moment, while staring up at the ceiling, clarity slipped in through the haze as his tongue sent me spiraling. Even through the pleasure, that one thought kept pulsing in my chest as I remembered what we were supposed to be doing tonight. We were supposed to be having the conversation we’d both been avoiding. Babies. No more putting it off. “Roman?” I whispered. He hummed against me, the vibration making me shudder. “There’s something I want to talk about,” I half-moaned as his hands reached upwards to gently close around my breasts. Then I half-laughed at how insane it felt to bring this up now. He lifted his head with a smirk, his lips glistening. “I’m listening, my love.” I hesitated. He was still between my thighs, still breathing heavily, still looking at me like I was his last breath. My heart hammered. I forced myself to say it anyway. “Babies.” His head tilted slightly. He bit down on my inner thigh, gently but enough to make me yelp. “What about them?” My pulse stumbled. “What do you think about them?” For a second, he didn’t move. His brows knit together, confusion flickering across his handsome face. “They’re… red and tiny,” he said finally, “especially when they’re born.” I almost laughed. “Roman,” I said, exasperated, “come on. You know what I mean.” And that’s when his expression changed. The teasing faded, replaced by something harder. Something familiar. He sat up slowly, dragging a hand through his wet hair. “Sav,” he said, his voice quieter now, “I’ve told you this before. I don’t want children.” The words hit like a stone sinking to the bottom of my chest. I propped myself up on my elbows, staring at him. “You're still holding on to that? After everything?” His silence was worse than the answer. He looked away, the muscles in his jaw tightening. For a moment, I thought he might take it back—say something soft, or half-promise, or even pretend just to ease the sting. But he didn’t. The room felt colder suddenly. The steam had faded, leaving only the faint scent of soap and the sound of our breathing. “Roman…” I whispered again, but my voice trembled this time. “Answer me.” He ran a hand down his face and let out a long breath. “Sav, this isn’t about you and you know that.” I forced a small laugh that came out too sharp. “Then what is it about? The stupid curse? Or maybe now it's just your personal decision, huh? Because I’m trying to understand how you can make love to me, hold me like this, love me the way you do and still not want to start a family with me—” “Because it’s different,” he interrupted, his tone firm but not cruel. “What I feel for you, what we have—it doesn’t need that to be real, my love. I don’t need to risk your life to prove that I want to be with you forever.” He rubbed his face. “We're happy, Sav. We're good this way. We don't need anything else.” I stared at him, heart thundering. “You mean you don’t need a family. Speak for yourself, Roman. Because I know what I want.” He didn’t reply. That silence was answer enough. Something inside me cracked—not a shatter, not yet, but the start of one. I sank back onto the bed, turning my face toward the ceiling as if it might give me answers. I could still feel him between my thighs, his touch lingering, his scent on my skin, and yet suddenly it all felt hollow. For a moment, neither of us moved. Or spoke. Roman reached for my hand. I didn’t pull away, but I didn’t squeeze back either. His thumb brushed over my knuckles like he was trying to memorize something that was already slipping through his fingers. “Sav,” he said softly, “you know I love you. Even more than my own life.” The ache in my throat made it hard to breathe. “Then why does it feel like you don’t?”His eyes lifted to mine, full of the same storm I’d seen there a hundred times before—the one I always mistook for depth when maybe it was just fear. He didn’t answer. And that silence told me everything I needed to know. I turned away, blinking back the heat in my eyes. My chest tightened, but I forced a small, trembling smile because that’s what I always did—pretend it didn’t hurt until it did. The towel beneath us was damp and cold now. The air felt heavier. “Sav, please.” He begged, exhausted. “Let's not fight over this. I've told you I didn't want kids in the past. I don't think we should be bringing this up.” I closed my eyes and whispered, barely loud enough for either of us to hear, “Not even with me?” He said nothing. And the quiet that followed was louder than anything.