Page 93 of Knot on the Market

I silence him by leaning forward and pressing my lips to his.

The kiss starts gentle, just a soft brush of mouths, but when Julian makes a sound low in his throat, it deepens into something that makes my head spin. His hands come up to cup my face, fingers threading through my hair, and I can taste the desperation he's been hiding beneath all that careful research.

When I pull back, his breathing is ragged, his carefully maintained composure completely shattered.

"Still overthinking?" I ask, my lips brushing against his as I speak.

"I—" He swallows hard, his thumb tracing across my cheekbone. "My brain feels remarkably quiet right now."

"Good." I slide off my chair and settle between his knees, my hands resting on his thighs. "Because I have a better idea for how to spend your evening."

His eyes widen as he realizes what I'm suggesting, heat flaring in his gaze before uncertainty creeps back in. "Lila, you don't have to… I mean, just because I was stressed doesn't mean you need to?—"

"Julian," I interrupt, my hands moving to his belt buckle. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No," he says immediately, then flushes at his own honesty. "But are you sure? We haven't really talked about what this means, what we're doing, whether…"

I silence him again, this time by pressing my palm against the obvious evidence of his arousal through his dress pants. The contact makes him gasp and buck involuntarily into my touch.

"I'm sure," I say, working at his belt with steady fingers. "Are you?"

For a moment he just stares at me, pupils blown wide with want and something deeper… amazement, maybe, like he can't quite believe this is really happening. Then his hand covers mine, not to stop me but to help, and the simple gesture sends heat racing through my entire system.

"Yes," he breathes. "God, yes."

I make quick work of his belt and zipper, and when I free him from his boxer briefs, he's already hard and flushed and perfect. The sound he makes when I wrap my fingers around him is broken and desperate and goes straight to the growing ache between my thighs.

"Lila," he whispers, his voice wrecked with want.

Instead of answering, I lean forward and take him into my mouth.

The reaction is immediate and devastating. Julian's hands fly to my hair, not pushing but holding on like he needs the anchor, and the sound that tears from his throat is pure pleasure mixed with shock. His head falls back against the chair, exposing thestrong column of his throat, and I watch his careful control completely dissolve.

"Love," he gasps, his voice barely recognizable. "Lila, I—oh God?—"

I work him slowly, thoroughly, using my tongue and lips to map every sensitive spot that makes him gasp and tremble. His responses are so honest, so unguarded, nothing like the careful consideration he brings to everything else. This is Julian stripped down to pure sensation and watching him fall apart under my touch is intoxicating.

For someone who lives in his head, who analyzes every variable and calculates every outcome, surrendering control like this must be terrifying. But he's doing it. For me, because of me, trusting me to take care of him in ways he can't take care of himself.

"I can't—" He tries to speak but the words dissolve into a groan when I do something with my tongue that makes his hips jerk involuntarily. "You're going to…I'm already…"

I pull back just enough to look up at him, taking in his flushed face, the way his chest rises and falls with ragged breathing, how his dark eyes are completely unfocused with pleasure.

"Let go," I tell him, my voice rough from what I've been doing. "Stop thinking and just let go."

"I don't know how," he admits, vulnerability bleeding through the desire.

"Then let me teach you."

I return my attention to what I was doing, using everything I've learned about Julian's careful nature to completely overwhelm his senses. The way he responds, desperate sounds, trembling hands, his whole body going taut with approaching release tells me everything I need to know about how long he's been holding back.

I squeeze his knot tightly and he comes apart with my name on his lips, the sound raw and broken and beautiful. I swallow everything he gives me, the taste of him flooding my senses as I feel a surge of satisfaction that has nothing to do with physical pleasure and everything to do with watching someone I care about surrender control completely.

I stay where I am until his breathing starts to slow, pressing gentle kisses to his inner thigh while he comes back to himself. When I finally look up, his eyes are soft and amazed, like he's seeing me for the first time.

"Come here," he says quietly, his voice hoarse but warm.

I rise and let him pull me into his lap, settling across his thighs while his arms come around me with careful tenderness. For a moment we just breathe together, the intensity of what just happened settling between us like a shared secret.

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