Vorian’s POV
Pregnant nympho. Damn it this woman is going to be the death of me.
Sliding the key into the lock and stepping into my real house hit me with a wave of familiarity I hadn’t realized I missed. The place wasn’t flashy two stories of mid-century comfort, all earthy tones and light gray walls, soft carpet underfoot, tile where it belonged in the kitchen and baths. It didn’t scream Alpha. It didn’t boast money or power. It breathed something rarer love, warmth, refuge.
The walls were heavy with history, lined with photographs of my childhood, of the boy I’d been and the man I’d become. Upstairs, three bedrooms, two baths, and a small family space that overlooked the living room. The master held a king-sized bed draped in plain white cotton sheets. I caught myself imagining a bas
