Page 87 of Cruelest Contract
What the hell did I know? I was thirteen. Everything I was so sure of was about to shatter in a hail of bullets.
“Come here, honey.” Julian, a master of reading my changing moods, gathers me in his strong arms.
I lean into this protective embrace with eagerness, my cheek pressing to his broad chest. His shirt, now creased, is also partially unbuttoned and I love the feel of his skin touching my face. The thud of his heartbeat is steady and sure. He strokes myhair and kisses the top of my head. Little by little, all doubt and angst melts away.
I’m with my husband and I’m home.
Soon enough, tenderness gives way to more basic needs. I can feel how hard he is. I could even feel him when we were dancing. My own arousal spikes with an answering ache between my legs. Our heartbeats quicken together. His breath catches when I press a kiss to his chest.
“I want you so much,” I whisper.
He massages the back of my neck more deeply, his thumb circling a sensitive spot at the base of my skull. “You have me, Cecilia.” His mouth finds mine and he teases me with a taste of his tongue. “Now turn around.”
Unsure about what he has in mind, I obey anyway. Uncertainty twines with desire. The resulting thrill is seductive. He shocked me when he cut my panties off. He shocked me with the things he said. He will likely shock me now.
Julian has the power to be all things at once. He can be gentle and considerate. Then savage and insistent. The qualities of a king.
He pushes my hair out of the way and it falls over my right shoulder. His fingertips linger on my skin until he succeeds at eliciting a shiver. Then he works at the zipper. He doesn’t tear the fabric or break the dress apart. He slides the zipper down slowly, taking his time. And he knows exactly what he’s doing. Every second only heightens the anticipation. Julian slips the sleeves from my shoulders and the entire dress glides to the floor.
“Step out,” he instructs.
My legs are unsteady as I leave the puddle of fabric. Julian’s hands settle on my waist and he turns me around to face him.
“Surprised you didn’t cut it off.” I rise up on my tiptoes, trying to match my hips to his. He’s bigger than any other manI’ve been with. The contest isn’t even close. I’m still wearing a sheer light pink slip over my bra and panties. My boots, formerly hidden by my long gown, are also still on.
Julian pulls back to survey my body with naked lust. He hooks the strap of my slip around one finger. His voice is husky. “Didn’t think you’d want your wedding dress destroyed.”
“You’re right about that.”
He smirks like no one else, always infinitely sure of himself. “Then it’s a good thing I didn’t get too rough.”
I’m so hungry to see more of him. I start unbuttoning his shirt with fingers that tremble only slightly. His hand moves to my hair, sifting through the long strands while I’m busy plucking buttons free.
I have to untuck his shirt to reach the last button. His chest is nothing short of magnificent. I’ve seen it before and still I’m amazed. There aren’t words enough for how badly I need him inside me. The wish to be daring, adventurous, is a feeling inspired only by him. No one else, not ever.
I touch his black leather belt and raise my eyes to his. “Maybe Iwantyou to be alittle rough.”
Julian’s sharp intake of breath is intensely satisfying. He’s not the only one with the power to surprise. There’s pressure now as he winds a section of my hair around his fist. He pulls lightly and lowers his head until I feel his breath on my neck.
“Noted,” he whispers and drags his teeth over my skin, producing the slightest hint of pain as he sucks hard enough to leave a mark.
I throw my arms around his shoulders. He lifts me with one arm and my knees hook around his hips. I’m vaguely aware that he’s grabbed the bourbon bottle with his free hand before carrying me over to the bed. Whatever he’s planning, I’m into it.
Julian deposits me on the edge of the mattress. His shirt is gone and he lays the unopened bottle on the bed at my sidebefore kneeling at my feet. He removes my boots one at a time and he moves slowly, deliberately, watching my face all the while. My fists tighten in the downy depths of the bed comforter. I may start begging for him to go faster.
His hands travel higher up my legs, every inch a methodical seduction. I don’t even recoil when his palm glides over my scars. Somehow with him, it feels good and there’s no shame. I’m not tempted to hide.
He keeps going and I watch as his hands disappear under my slip. There’s a whimper in my throat when his thumbs part my thighs. He doesn’t stop until his fingers are inside my panties. I know what he’ll find there. I’m more than ready for him.
A lock of black hair tumbles across his forehead as he watches my reaction. I’m squirming, angling my body to encourage him to probe deeper but he prefers to tease at the entrance, massaging with his thumbs until I’m biting my lip. My arm muscles strain as I lean heavily on them and lift my hips from the mattress. Julian uses this opportunity to grip the waistband of my satin panties and slide them off. Every moan and every move I make is a plea to keep going.
However, once he’s removed my panties, Julian stands and seizes the bourbon. He unscrews the cap, tosses it away and drinks directly from the bottle. His throat bobs as he gulps that fire down like it’s nothing more than water.
The sight is so sexy and so dominant and I never knew this was what I craved all along.
“My turn,” I whisper and go work on his belt. Unbuckling. Unzipping.
Julian watches me and doesn’t interfere. His pants fall from his hips. The briefs he wears are black and the thick outline of his cock is a thing of beauty. He hisses through his teeth when I kiss his hard belly. I use my tongue to trace a trail down his rigid abs and then pause, looking up.
