ONE NIGHT STAND WITH HOT DUKE-Chapter 108: I just want to make love
Silence settled over the room once more. The candle in the corner flickered softly, their shadows touching on the wall.
Finally, Demian moved. Not hastily. Not with dominance. He sat on the edge of the bed, close enough that their shoulders nearly touched.
"Then," he said quietly, "we don’t have to do anything except stay here."
Valerie looked at him, then slowly leaned in. Her head rested against Demian’s chest, hesitating for a moment until Demian lifted his arm and allowed her to remain there.
His heartbeat was strong, steady. Real.
For the first time that night, Valerie closed her eyes without fear.
And Demian stayed awake longer than usual realizing that desire does not always need to be acted upon. Sometimes, it only needs to be held.
"Demian let’s make love"
Demian fell silent when Valerie spoke those words. There was no mischievous smile on her face, no challenge only honest need, a weariness seeking comfort.
"Valerie..." he murmured.
She lifted her face, their eyes meeting. "I know," she said before he could continue, as if reading the unrest in him. "I know the risks. I know everything is complicated. But tonight... I want to choose you. Not as a duke. Not as Morvex. Just as the man standing in front of me."
Demian drew a long breath. His hand rose, hesitating for a moment before finally touching Valerie’s cheek a light, controlled touch, as though he feared breaking something fragile.
"If we go any further," he said quietly, "I want you to be certain. Not because you’re angry. Not because you’re jealous. Not because you’re afraid of losing me."
Valerie closed her eyes, then opened them again with a calm that surprised even herself. "I’m certain," she said. "Because for the first time, I don’t want to run."
The silence between them felt warm, not heavy. Demian leaned closer until their foreheads touched. There was no rush. No demand. Just two breaths slowly aligning.
"I’m here," he whispered. "And I will protect you."
Valerie answered by reaching for the collar of his shirt not pulling, just holding him there, making sure he didn’t leave. Demian wrapped his arms around her, firm yet gentle, like a promise spoken without words. The night closed around them in an intimacy that needed no explanation only to be felt, a shared choice made consciously and guarded with care.
Valerie did not take back her words.
The sentence lingered between them simple, yet heavy, like a decision that could not be undone.
"I want you," she repeated, more softly this time, yet with greater certainty.
Demian did not answer right away. He looked at Valerie as if searching her face for something hesitation, coercion, or nothing more than a fleeting surge of emotion. But what he found instead was honest exhaustion, an unhidden need, and the courage of a woman who knew what she wanted, even as her heart lay cracked.
"You’re pregnant," Demian finally said, his voice low. "You should be resting."
Valerie gave a faint smile bitter, but aware.
"That’s exactly why," she replied. "I don’t want tonight to pass with distance between us."
She shifted slightly against the pillow, moving closer until the space between them truly disappeared. Her hand touched Demian’s arm not pressing, not commanding but inviting.
Demian let out a long breath. He knew he should refuse. He knew this would only make everything more complicated. Yet in the end, he also knew that refusing her tonight would wound Valerie far more deeply than belated honesty ever could.
He reached for her face, his thumb brushing her cheek in a slow, almost careful motion. Their gazes locked, and in that silence, the decision was made without words.
Demian lowered his head, and Valerie closed her eyes.
That night, there was no anger. No struggle for control. No grand promises spoken carelessly. There were only two wounded people, seeking warmth in one another, acknowledging each other’s presence in the most intimate way they knew.
Valerie felt Demian fully with her not as a duke, not as a man bound to his past but simply as a man who chose to be at her side that night. And Demian, for the first time in a long while, allowed himself to sink into Valerie’s presence without thinking of anything beyond the moment he was living.
When it was over, Valerie did not cry. She lay still, her breathing slow, one hand still clutching the fabric at Demian’s chest as if afraid he might disappear if she let go.
Demian held her from behind, tighter than before.
That night was not merely desire.
It was a wordless confession that whatever they chose to call this relationship, they had gone too far to pretend they did not belong to each other.
Demian stood beside the bed, still leaving the same distance as before. His hand lifted hesitantly, then paused midair as though he himself was unsure whether he had the right to touch her.
Then, suddenly, he felt something.
A small movement. Gentle, but unmistakably real.
His palm tensed at once. Demian looked down, his eyes widening, his breath caught as if the world had just stopped turning.
"Valerie..." his voice dropped, barely audible. "Is this—"
He swallowed, then continued more softly, almost afraid of breaking the moment.
"Is this them?"
Valerie did not turn her head. She kept her gaze fixed ahead, on an empty point on the wall, her face calm while her eyes glimmered with something difficult to name. Slowly, her hand moved to cover Demian’s where it rested on her belly not restraining, not pulling away, only making sure he stayed there.
"I think so," she said quietly. "It seems they know their father is here."
The words fell simply, yet they struck Demian harder than any threat or argument ever had.
He looked at Valerie’s belly, then at her face. Something inside him cracked something he had long built from rules, bindings, and power. The fracture did not hurt. Instead, it felt like a place where light could finally enter.
"They..." Demian stopped, his voice trembling faintly. "They moved again."
Valerie nodded slowly. "Sometimes they do," she said. "When I’m calm. Or when they... recognize something." 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎
Demian said nothing more. His hand remained there, now fully aware of the small life pulsing beneath Valerie’s skin not as a symbol, not as a bargaining piece, but as a living reality.
"So... they recognize me?"
