Page 91 of Twisted (Never After)
Arousal heats me slowly from the inside out.
I stretch out in the bed, raising my hands above my head and sighing at the way it relieves the sleepy tension from my muscles. Then I push the covers off me completely, slipping out of the side of Julian’s bed and padding through the room until I hit his en suite.
Glancing around, I wonder if maybe he’s here, but there’s no sign of him, so I decide to make myself at home. He wouldn’t have brought me here if he wasn’t implying I had free rein to do what I wanted.
The second I see the master shower that takes up the entire length of the far wall, with multiple showerheads from a thousand different angles, I know I’m going to be using it.
I waste no time, stripping off my pajamas and making my way to the shower, turning on the water and watching with excitement as the multiple different showerheads light up and spray water.
There’s a main one, just like there is in my room, that sits on the ceiling, creating a rainfall effect on your head when you step under the spray. It has a removable head beneath it, attached to the shower wall. Beyond that, there are spouts on the sides, spraying from all directions. I’ve never experienced anything quite like it, and I’m immediately immersed in the sensory overload of it all, allowing the heat of the water to cascade over my skin and relax my body even more.
Rude of him to not tell me this shower was here the whole time.
There’s an automatic dispenser on the right- hand wall, and I reach my hand underneath, the smell of Julian’s soap filling the air. Closing my eyes, I hum under my breath as I start to wash my body, my breath hitching when I run my palms over my sensitive breasts. My mind starts flashing memories of the night before, how Julian’s hands moved me where he wanted like I was a doll there for his enjoyment. How he demanded things of me and held me down while he made me come, yet made every single second aboutmypleasure.
I never knew that being handled that way would be such a turn- on.
It’s always in the shower that visions of Julian make me want to come.
When I brush my fingers across my clit, a shudder racks my body. Slowly, I rub back and forth over my pussy again, a sharp sting of pain mixing with the pleasure when I pinch myself, trying to recreate the feeling from last night, but it falls short.
A throat clears and I gasp, my heart flipping and my eyes shooting open, my hand flying away from between my legs.
Julian stands there in the middle of the room with nothing but gray sweatpants and a smirk on his face.
I’m caught so off guard at the sight of him without a shirt that I don’t even say anything, instead just letting my gaze roam the length of his body. I’ve never seen him look this way, and if I thought he was dangerous in a suit, he’sdevastatingwhen he’s just up and out of bed.
Both of his arms are entirely covered with tattoos; they sprawl across his shoulder blades and drip down his chest. In fact, it’s easier to find spots of him thataren’tshowing skin than parts that are. There’s a snake’s head that starts on his left hand and wraps around his entire arm, coiling up over his shoulder blade. It’s the largest of all his pieces, and my eyes are transfixed on the art.
His stomach is toned, becauseof courseit is, and his eyes are like fire behind thin, silver wire- frame glasses.
My stomach jolts.
He runs a hand through his perfectly mussed black hair. “Don’t stop on my account.”
“You scared me,” I complain, my palm pressing against my chest to calm my speeding pulse.
His eyes blaze down my body, and even through the steam, I feel exposed, lit up like a firework without a single touch.
What is he thinking? Is he regretting last night? Wanting it to happen again? Gloating because he has me exactly where he wants me?
He shakes his head. “You make it hard for a man to leave when you look like that.”
My heart flips at his words. I’m not sure why his compliments affect me in such a visceral way, but the most selfish part of me hopes that he never stops.
“So don’t,” I reply.
He swipes his tongue across his bottom lip. “Duty calls, gattina. And Razul is here to take you to your father’s.”
Confusion swims through me and my forehead scrunches.
“Why?”
Julian tilts his head. “Don’t you want to see him?”
Sadness, that nasty emotion, reminds me of its presence again with a sharp tug around my chest. “Yes, of course,” I whisper.
He’s quiet then, letting his gaze sweep over me one more time. “I’m leaving for Egypt tomorrow morning for a few days. I’m hoping you’ll come with me.”Egypt.
