My heart slams against my rib cage, trying to leap out of my chest and soar into his, and I’m not quite sure why it’s happening or how to stop it. Maybe it’s to soothe what Julian feels like may be broken or to simply comfort the vulnerable little boy locked inside.
Either way, I don’t have much time to process what he said before his lips are on mine, stealing the breath from my lungs like he needs it to survive.
And I’ve been kissed before, but the way Julian devours me— like he can’t stand the thought of staying away for another second, like I’m the only thing he needs and nothing will get in his way— shows me that maybe I’ve never truly been kissed.
There aren’t butterflies in my stomach. No soft pitter-patters of flapping wings or gentle flips. Instead, he causes an inferno, raging through my system and disintegrating me.
My fists unclench as his hands grip the sides of my face possessively, both of us no longer able to fight against whatever this is that’s been slowly steeping for the past couple of weeks.
Now it’s pulling us both under, and it feels so good I don’t care if it makes me drown.
I moan into the kiss, my eyelids fluttering closed as his tongue slips against mine, his hands tilting my head like he needs to get deeper, to taste more. It makes my stomach drop and twist like I’m on a roller coaster, and I sink into his hold, my arms wrapping around his neck, fingers digging into his hair as I try to get as close as possible.
Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I know that logically, I should be pulling away. That I should be fighting whatever this is between us and making sure I don’t fall for what I know is just another manipulation.
For a second, Aidan flits through my thoughts, guilt for what I’m doing trying to seep into the moment, but then I remember that he wants nothing to do with me. And to be honest, nothing with Aidan has ever felt like this. The thought is gone as quickly as it came, the passion coursing through me washing Aidan away like he was written in chalk and not carved on my soul.
Besides, it’s been a while since anything has felt good in my life, so as selfish as this might make me, I’m going to grab on with both hands and hold on tight. I’m going to take the temporary respite while I can.
He tilts my face, breaking his lips away and dragging his mouth down the expanse of my neck, his teeth nibbling and sucking on every piece of bare skin he can find.
This doesn’t feel like a one- time thing.
It feels like ownership.
The thought sends a spear of heat through my middle, making my back arch and my body fall further into him.
His hands move from where they were cupping my face, grazing down my sides and causing my breath to stall and goose bumps to prickle beneath the silk of my shirt.
He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me closer until not a single centimeter is left between us, his cock pressing against my torso, thick and large and something that I’m suddenly desperate to feel.
Before I can overthink it, I reach out and run the palm of my hand from the base all the way up, reveling in the way his body stiffens and his breathing stutters from where he’s still nibbling on the crook of my neck.
My pussy throbs, wetness seeping into my black lace thong, and I imagine what he would feel like slipping between my legs. I bet he would split me apart, dominate every single part of me.
Make me feel loved and secure and whole, even if just for the moment.
He groans but moves his own hand in between us, halting my movements and bringing my arm back up to his chest. I ignore the slight stab of rejection I feel when he does, and then he’s spinning me around quickly, lifting me up as he stands until I’m sideways in the air.
I gasp, letting out a small squeal as he maneuvers me exactly how he likes, forcing me to bend over the edge of the coffee table. My elbows ache when they slam into the carved wood, and my knees sink into the purple and gold Persian rug beneath us.
His hand skims up the length of my spine, sensing a shiver racking through me. I lift my head up and am about to turn to look him in the eye, but his palm wraps around the back of my neck and forces me down until my cheek is pressed against the table and my body is supple and open beneath him.
“You are so goddamn beautiful, do you know that?” he murmurs, his free hand caressing my calf and gliding up slowly, massaging the muscle as he does.
My breathing comes in small puffs of air, delight at his compliment filling up my body and sending warmth through me as his fingers play with the hem of my skirt that fell back down when he moved me to the table. Slowly, painstakingly, he pushes it up until the material is bunched at my hips and the cool air kisses the skin of my ass.
His palm feels strong and rough as he grabs a handful of the cheek, muttering something Italian under his breath and then smoothing across the skin.
He moves then, the thick length of his erection pressing against me and making my body ache for more as he leans his upper half across my back, his lips ghosting across my ear, the heat of his breath sending a shiver down my spine.
“Tell me you like my hands on you, gattina.”
The words soar through my throat and try to tumble off my tongue, but I sink my teeth into my lip, not wanting to give in, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of being able to demand everything from me when he’s already got me splayed out and dripping for him like this. Besides, when I rile him up, he likes it. I can tell because even through his pants, his cock stiffens when I don’t do as he asks.
My fingers dig into the wood of the table next to my face, tempering the urge to reach down the front of my bent-over body just to relieve the throbbing ache that’s pulsing between my legs.
I think I might die if he doesn’t touch me soon, but I still don’t want to give in.
Smack.
A sharp sting radiates across my right ass cheek and my teeth bite harder into my lip, the taste of copper flooding my mouth. He smooths over where he just hit, and the anticipation of what he’ll do to me next sends a buzzing through my body, my muscles tensing and butterflies exploding in my stomach, fluttering so intensely it feels like I might fly.
It’s never felt like this before.
“When I ask you a question, amore mio, I expect you to answer it.” Another smack of his hand in the exact same spot, followed again by him caressing the already tender skin.
He’s still holding me down by the nape, but now he moves his touch, skimming it upward until his fingers are tangling through my curly strands and fisting my hair. His other hand teases the lace of my underwear before gripping tightly and pulling.
I feel the rip on the skin of my hips before I hear it, and then the panties are gone and I’m exposed, at his mercy, and I’ve never felt so alive.
His fist tightens in my hair, and he pulls, a harsh stab of pain radiating on my scalp that sends a shock of pleasure straight between my legs.
My body bows as he brings me up, my back coming flush to his front, his chin resting perfectly in the crook of my neck as he forces me to lean my head against his shoulder.
His right hand moves up to the front of my blouse, repeating the tearing motion, buttons popping off my silk shirt and scattering on the rug as he rips the fabric easily, like it was made for his hands.
My chest heaves as I’m left in nothing but my bra, and soon that’s gone too, thrown somewhere on the floor, and then I’m completely naked, my nipples pebbled and begging to be touched.
“Where’s that smart mouth, bad girl?” He cups my right breast in his hand while he pulls roughly on the makeshift ponytail he has clutched in his other fist. “Don’t want to give it to me now?”
His fingers pinch my nipple before he holds my entire breast in his hand, manipulating the flesh until the pleasure turns into torture, the ache between my legs intensifying from his touch until it becomes almost too much to bear.
“Please,” I pant out.
“Sei bellissima quando implori.”
My body vibrates, and his palm dances down the front of my torso until he’s hovering directly over where I need him most, his hand cupping my pussy like it’s his.
“I could do so much to make you scream,” he purrs.
His middle finger slides along the seam of my pussy, my clit throbbing from the ghost of his touch as he drags it all the way down to my entrance, dipping in just a little to tease the outside of my hole.
I moan, my muscles giving out as I practically collapse against him, his front remaining plastered to my back as he plays with me like I’m a marionette dancing on his strings.
“But you like my hands on you,” he states. “Be my good girl and tell me how it feels.”
“I hate it,” I say, biting my lip even harder.
He moves and smacks my pussy, the sharp sting radiating all the way down my legs, my body shaking from how badly I want him inside me. To ease this ache. He removes his touch, bringing his palm up to my face, my wetness glistening on his skin as he rests his fingers against my lips.
“Your wet cunt doesn’t lie, gattina.”
His finger parts my mouth and forces its way in. I whimper, my tongue wrapping around his digit as I lick myself off his skin. “That’s my girl, sucking yourself off me like a desperate little slut,” he rasps. “You can taste the truth, can’t you, baby?”
I nod against him, so turned on I don’t even want to fight it anymore. I just want to do whatever he says so that he’ll make me come and I can keep feeling this way forever.
He removes his fingers from my mouth, and I wantonly whimper in protest.
His hold on my hair loosens, hand moving to wrap around the front of my throat now, my pulse pounding so heavily I’m sure he can feel it.
“Say it,” he demands.
“I love it when you touch me. Please,” I beg, my legs trembling.
My body is so on edge that everything feels heightened. The air is cool as it whips against my overheated skin, the rug scratchy as it digs into my knees. My pussy is aching as his hand finally gives me what I need.
His thumb rubs my clit and immediately my vision grows hazy, so lost in the pleasure I wouldn’t be able to see the forest for the trees, and when his fingers slide effortlessly into me from how drenched I am, I let out a loud moan, my head dropping back against shoulder. His other hand tightens around my throat, being careful to avoid my windpipe.
He’s done this before. Jealousy whips through me like a tornado, but just as quickly as it came, it’s gone, my stomach tensing as he rubs against my sensitive nerves.
“So responsive,” he murmurs . “You feel like fucking heaven, and I’ve barely touched you.”
He starts a rhythm, his fingers plunging inside me and curling until they hit a spot that makes me cry out, and right when they do, his thumb presses against my swollen clit, making pleasure swirl through my middle and pool in my core.
My arm flies up behind me to wrap around his neck, because if I don’t hang on to him, I won’t be able to hang on at all, and before I can stop it, I’m muttering, “Please, Julian, God. I need… I need— ”
“Such a good little wife when you’re dripping on my hand and begging for me to fuck you.”
My pussy spasms around his fingers.
“Is that what you want, amore mio? You want me to pry your thighs apart and slide myself so deep inside you that you’ll feel me for days?”
My teeth slam into my lips, trying to keep from telling him, to make him drag the answer out of me, but I’m too far gone to fight.
“Yes,” I plead.
“Yes,” he repeats. “You’d come all over my dick like my perfect girl, wouldn’t you?”
He disappears from between my legs, the pressure on my neck easing as he moves both hands and grips my hips. He picks me up from where I’m bent and spins me around, perching my ass on the edge of the table, his fingers digging into the meat of my legs as he forces them as wide as they’ll go.
I breathe deeply, watching this powerful, dangerous man on his knees before me, and my pussy clenches at the sight.
He moves in, his nose running along the inside of my thigh.
“I’m going to fuck you with my tongue until you soak my face.”
I swallow, my mouth dry and heart beating so hard I can feel it in my ears.
His breath coasts across the top of my already sensitive clit, and it throbs.
He skims a finger along my slit, dipping just the tip inside me. “Deny me what I want, and next time I’ll tie you to this table and torture you until you scream. Do you understand?” He peers at me from between my legs, his pupils dilated and his cheeks flushed.
He can pretend he’s in control all he wants, but I see the way this is affecting him just as much as it is me.
“I understand,” I breathe.
“Good girl.”
And then he’s on me. He doesn’t waste time being soft and sweet. His tongue and mouth work me like he’s ravenous for my taste. I cry out, the pleasure squeezing my insides tight and spreading through my limbs, tighter and tighter until it feels like I’ll burst.
I grip the strands of his hair, pulling harshly as a loud noise escapes my mouth, my back arching off the table and my legs resting on top of his shoulders.
He continues his assault, the feel of his tongue licking and his mouth sucking while his fingers work in and out of my pussy the best kind of torture, and before I know it, I’m already on the edge.
He’s built me up for so long that I can’t last. I won’t. It’s fucking impossible.
I’ve never felt anything like this, so all-consuming and like I’m going to die if I don’t get to come.
“Oh god,” I moan.
“That’s right, amore mio,” he coos, releasing my clit from his teeth. “Let Him hear your screams.”
He dives back in, and then I’m coming, my vision going black and my legs pressing so tightly against his head I’m surprised he can breathe, a groan ripping from my throat and permeating the air.
Through it all, he never stops licking me, working my pussy as I ride the high, and easing down to soft nips when I start to come back to earth.
It isn’t until I become so sensitive it hurts that he finally pulls away, his face glistening with me as he gives me a grin.
My hands fumble as I reach out to grab him wherever I can, pulling him up and over me until his body covers mine, the fabric of his shirt scratching against my overheated flesh. I surge up, capturing his lips, sucking myself off his tongue, and he grunts, his body weight falling to rest on me.
I love the way it feels. And I know that I shouldn’t, but right now, I’m lost.
“Fuck me,” I beg against his mouth.
He shakes his head even as he kisses me back. Pulling away slightly, he rests his forehead against mine, his heavy breaths coating my lips.
“Are you mine?” he asks.
His question cuts through my chest and settles in my heart, fracturing the already breaking pieces. I suck in a breath, my body freezing. I can’t answer that.
I won’t.
Because regardless of how I feel right now and what just happened, it doesn’t change anything.
Not really.
Being his means letting go of everything else, and I’m just not willing to do that.
He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he nods against me, and then he’s gone, my body chilled from the loss of his touch.
I lie there for a long time, coming to terms with what just happened. And then slowly, I stand up, grabbing my ripped clothes off the rug and heading to my room.
I’m not sure what makes me do it, but I head straight to the burner phone, pick it up, and unlock the screen.
1 new notification.
My chest tightens as I open the text to reply to my lawyer.
Only the message isn’t from him.
