Chapter 9

I nod, continuing my perusal of the room—the chandeliers above us, the intricate carvings on the ceiling.

“You want to explore?” Julian suggests.

I shoot him a quizzical look. “Can we?”

“If my brother paid an arm and a leg for this venue, then we’d better be able to explore it if we want. Come on.” Wrapping his arm around mine, he tugs me down the hallway.

“Interesting décor choice,” I comment, gesturing to an array of portraits on the walls. The subjects look older—from medieval times, perhaps?—with long, sad faces and eyes that follow as you walk by.

“For real,” Julian agrees. “Whatever happened to fields of daises?”

Suddenly we pass an open doorway to our left. Julian stops short, peering inside. He makes a soft noise of interest, taking a step in. I follow. The room appears to be a library of sorts. Bookshelves line the walls, and a warm fireplace burns in the corner, surrounded by a chaise lounge and a few chairs.

“Cute,” I comment, walking around.

Julian walks to the nearest bookshelf, brushing his fingers along the spines.

I gravitate toward the fireplace, taking a seat on the chaise lounge and staring into the embers. “How did Callum and Camille meet?” I ask over my shoulder.

“Camille was his personal assistant,” Julian responds behind me.

“Mmmm, a workplace romance.”

Julian chuckles. “Incredibly improper coming from Callum.” I hear him come up behind me, and then he takes a seat next to me on the lounge. Our thighs barely brush, and a streak of electricity runs through me.

“Oh?” I ask.

“Yeah, among the three of us, Callum has always been the most … straightlaced, let’s say.”

I raise my eyebrows. “And you aren’t?”

Julian levels me with a look. “Do I seem straightlaced to you?”

I laugh out loud at this. “No,” I admit. “You do not.”

I stare down at the cocktail in my hands as a silence settles around us. I’m suddenly hyper aware of how close Julian is to me, his leg barely touching mine, the heat from his body on my skin.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look in this?” Julian says softly, reaching over to my knee to gently brush his fingers against the fabric of my dress.

My heart rate speeds up, my breath somehow shallow and fast. I turn my head to find him already staring at me. “I know what you’re trying to do,” I breathe.

His lip twitches upward in a smile. “Oh yeah? And what am I trying to do?”

I swallow. “Compliment me, flatter me.”

He raises an eyebrow. “And what’s so bad about that?”

He’s inching closer to me, his face barely a foot from mine.

“Because you’re the type of man used to getting whatever he wants. And you can’t have me.” I say it slowly, with a smirk of my own. But I’m afraid my tone, my body language, my eyes, are giving me away. Betraying what I really feel. You can’t have me. Little does he know he already does.

Or maybe he knows exactly what I’m trying so desperately to hide.

A spark of delight flashes across his face, and he leans in impossibly closer. “And what you do want, Nora?” He gently reaches up to caress my cheek. My body is frozen, only aware of the place where his skin is meeting mine.

I open my mouth, but no words come out.

“I’ll tell you what I want,” he says slowly, his caress trailing gently down my neck, sending shivers across my skin. “I want to do terrible, unspeakable things to you. I want you naked underneath me while you make the most delicious noises known to man. I want you screaming my name and begging for more. But first …” He pauses. “I want to kiss you.”

The silence stretches around us, enveloping us, crushing us. My body is on fire, my face red and hot, my nerves alight with electricity. I take in a shaky breath. What are you doing, Nora? What are you doing? I ask myself. But it’s too late. It was already too late the second I laid eyes on him. “Then do it,” I find myself answering, my voice barely audible.

Before I have time to second guess my decision, Julian’s mouth is on mine, his hands on my waist, pulling me close to him. The kiss is desperate, passionate, deep, and despite my better judgement, I am utterly lost in anything and everything Julian.

My body melts into him as he kisses me, as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me closer. He pushes me backward against the sofa, and the drink in my hand falls, clattering to the floor with a splash. I gasp in shock, starting to sit up. “Oh no, should I—”

But Julian is pushing me back down. “Someone else can clean that up,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the nape of my neck. My eyes flutter closed, and I find myself agreeing, melting into the couch, submitting to his touch.

His hands roam across my stomach, up and across my breasts, squeezing them gently through the satin fabric of my dress. I moan softly.

“You’re not wearing a bra,” he breathes, gently teasing my nipple through the thin, satin fabric.

I feel myself redden. He’s right, I’m not. The dress didn’t work with one. It hasn’t been noticeable until now. Glancing down, I can see the outline of my taut nipples through the fabric. I look up at him, biting my lip.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he murmurs, leaning down to continue kissing my neck. He softly pinches my nipple through the fabric, and a quiet yelp escapes me. I gasp as the slight pain and pleasure mix together in an unfamiliar way. I’ve never had a man do that to me before. I’ve never had a man do … well, a lot of things.

But before I have time to dwell on that, Julian is focusing on my other nipple, teasing it alive through the fabric and making me squirm. Slowly, he slides the thin straps of my dress over my shoulders, kissing his way down my neck, my collarbone, to the tops of my breasts. Then, slowly, he slides the satin fabric down to my stomach, exposing me to the room.

I gasp as a rush of cold air glides across my breasts, hardening my nipples even more. Julian takes a moment to gaze down at me, and I can feel myself reddening in embarrassment. Holy shit. Julian Mercer is staring at my bare breasts. Julian Mercer is … oh my god. Is he going to—?

But my train of thought is immediately stopped when he lowers his head and takes one of my nipples in his mouth. A deep moan escapes me as pleasure courses through my body. Fuck, that feels good. It feels amazing. It feels unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.

His tongue flicks across my nipple, back and forth, speeding up, and I cry out softly. He nibbles gently, and I grip his biceps, desperate for more. He moves to my other breast, doing the same until I’m a moaning, whimpering puddle of pleasure, completely at his mercy.

When he’s done with my breasts, leaving them red and swollen, he runs a hand lazily along my thigh, snaking it under my dress and slowly reaching up, up, up. My breath hitches in my throat as he nears my center.

Sure, I’ve fooled around with guys before, but not like this. Not like …

Fuck, I can’t tell Julian. I can’t tell him. I can’t tell anyone. But can I simply go on like this?

He slips his finger into my panties, running it along my slit. He groans when he feels how wet I am, lazily drawing his finger up to my clit and rubbing.

I buck my hips, gasping at the sensation.

Julian presses his body down on mine, kissing my neck and up to my ear. “Fuck Nora, I love the noises you make,” he whispers, his breath hot against my skin.

I whimper as he picks up speed.

God, it feels incredible. He’s incredible. The only thought I can get through my fuzzy brain is the idea of Julian deep inside me. I’ve never felt like this before. Never wanted someone so badly. I’m aching for him, desperate, out of my mind.

But should I do this? Am I about to do this? Go farther than simply fooling around on the couch? I try to get myself to think straight, to see the situation for what it is, but Julian’s fingers are driving me wild, chasing all sensibility from my head.

Maybe now is the time. Maybe now is perfect.