by Esme Devlin
I take one last look inside the room at Derek. “I have another client for you. Come to the house, Kane will arrange the rest.”
“Of course.”
With that he hangs up. I have no idea what number-five-speed-dial does with the bodies. Acid? Swine? Medical research? Who the fuck knows. I don’t really care either, all that matters is that I tell him my problems, and he takes them away.
And now I need to do the same for Sofia.
Chapter 11
SOFIA
I sit myself down on a piece of crumbling wall outside the house while I wait for Julian. A few moments of numbness pass before Diesel comes and sits down beside me.
He’s a big dog. Black as chimney-soot and fierce looking, but I’m not scared. He just sits there, looking far off at some space in the distance. I’ve never thought much about dogs until this moment, but now I’m glad I’m thinking about dogs and not about what just happened back there.
Can they sense it? Pain? I read once they have a sixth sense. I don’t know, but I wonder if he knows how comforting his presence is. He’s just sitting there doing nothing other than occasionally glancing back at the door.
No doubt waiting for Julian to appear.
He’s loyal.
That’s something I’ve never had, not from anyone. In fact, all I’ve ever had was the opposite of loyalty. Except from Julian.
He’s offering me a home. He’s offering me a family. He’s offering me his loyalty.
Everything I ever wanted, and things I didn’t even know I could want.
When he emerges from the door and his silver eyes lock on mine, I think I have my answer.
I stand up and so does Diesel. I’m about to try to put into words how I feel. I’m about to tell him.
And then someone walks out of the door right behind him.
Someone who looks vaguely familiar. Someone who looks just like him, only older.
His father?
Julian looks over his shoulder, as if telling him something, and then makes his way towards me while his father stands at the door.
“Are you alright?”
I swallow and give him a nod, peeking up at him through lowered lashes. “I’m fine. It’s done.”
I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince him, or myself.
But Julian just nods and takes my arm. “Come. Let’s go home. My father will meet us there.”
We get home and I tell Julian I want to be alone for a while, which he allows. Somehow I went from declaring my undying love for him, to sitting in an empty room staring at my hands, and I’m not quite sure how that happened.
Perhaps it’s a good thing his father was there — stopped me making any rash decisions.
But I get no time to wallow in my own pity, or drive myself insane with the conflicting thoughts and emotions that are rattling around inside my head.
A gentle and familiar tap at the door signals Lydia is here. I call her in, and she pops her head around before entering.
“How are you, pet? Julian told me what happened.”
I smile at her. There’s that reassuring nod again. “I’m okay.”
Lydia doesn’t buy it half as well as Julian did — if he did at all.
“Well… Julian sent me to get you ready, and I was in half a mind to tell him to take a run and jump, but if you’re saying that you’re fine…” She arches her eyebrow, waiting for me to correct her, but that’s not what I picked up on.
“You were going to tell Julian that?” I laugh at her while she feigns innocence. “What happened to, if you want my advice, just listen to him?”
Now she’s the one who’s laughing, as if she’s been caught red-handed. “I said do as I say, not do as I do. I’ve known Julian since he was sucking on a pacifier, I can tell him whatever the hell I please. Play your cards right, and I might teach you my methods.” She winks as she finishes and I can’t help laughing, which she soon joins in with.
Then she settles herself down on the edge of the bed beside me and pushes a stray lock of hair back off my face. The gesture is so motherly it almost startles me. No one’s ever been motherly to me before.
“You’re sure you really are okay?”
I glance over in her direction. “No. Not really… but I will be.”
“Shall I tell him to take that run and jump? Shove it up his arse?”
I giggle. “No. Let’s get ready.”
When he told me, through Lydia, to get ready I had no idea what I was getting ready for. There was a fancy dress, this one a gorgeous shade of midnight blue — but he insisted on that last time for a quiet dinner.
So to say I’m shocked as I come down the stairs and survey the huge entrance would be an understatement.
I scan the room, trying to find Julian. There are people everywhere, chatting in small groups and sipping flutes of champagne. The men are dressed in suits, the women in gowns with painted faces and glittering accessories. Waiters circle the room with canapes, and in the corner, a band is getting set up.
What the hell is this?
Finally, I see him. He’s stood next to an elderly woman, slim as a wisp and wearing a fur bolero. As if he feels my eyes on him, he glances towards the stairs and straightens at the sight of me.
He’s wearing a midnight blue suit, and I think this may be the first time I’ve seen him in anything other than black. He bends down to the woman beside him and mutters something in her ear, without breaking eye-contact.
She glances up towards me and smiles. I smile back, feeling awkward for just standing here but too out of place to come down. These people are not my people. You can practically smell the money floating around the room.
Me? I feel like I street-rat who’s sneaked into the King’s palace. I’d started to think maybe I’d found a home with Julian… but I’ll never be the same as him.
He excuses himself from the woman and crosses the room towards the stairs before taking them two at a time.
“You’re so fucking beautiful tonight.” He bends down and whispers the words directly into my ear. The heat from his breath sends a shiver through my body, and I grasp the bannister behind me trying to keep myself steady.
“You suit blue,” I tell him. He does. The color brings out his eyes.
He tilts his head to the side and smirks. “Was that a compliment, little bird?”
I smile and shrug my shoulders. “Just a statement of fact.”
He leans in again. “Do you know what else is just a statement of fact?”
“No. But assume you're about to tell me…”
He chuckles, that knowing smirk growing across his face.
“My piccolina has caught feelings.”
He’s watching for my reaction so I try my best not to give him one.
“You do know the definition of fact, don't you? Do you need me to define it?”
“I’m well aware. Do you know the definition of a liar?”
“Of course.”
He shakes his head. “I don't think you do. In fact, I think I might need to show you.”
He takes a hold of my hand and begins leading me back up the stairs.
“Julian — those people?” I can feel eyes on me.
We can't just leave? I'm assuming it's a party, Julians party.
“Fuck the lot of them,” he says, shrugging.
We’re heading back up the stairs and I feel my heart rate increasing at the thought of why we’re heading back up those stairs. Yesterday, he didn’t stop when I asked him to… he only stopped when he wanted to.
Oh god.
I’m so fucked.
We continue down the corridor until we reach my bedroom (or, his bedroom, maybe… I’m still not actually sure about that). He doesn’t open the door, he just pushes me up against it and places his arms at either side of me, effectively boxing me in.
“This is your idea of showing me?” I flick my eyes to the side, gesturing to the bedroom behind us.
He shakes his head. “This is just me
proving a point, piccolina. I intend to spend the rest of my life showing you.”
My eyes narrow at his pretty words. His chest is pushed up close to mine, and I have to tilt my head up to see his face. It’s a face I wish I could trust.
“And if I say no?”
He chuckles, moving his hand down and running his fingers through my hair.
“Say it all you want, that’s the point, is it not? We’re proving how much of a liar you are.”
“Or… you could convince me to say yes.”
A smile plays on his lips and he backs up, just an inch.
“What would that take?”
“You need to agree to my demands.”
“Done.”
He said it too quickly. “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask for yet.”
“I don’t need to know,” he shrugs. “What could you possibly want, that I couldn’t give you?”
I think on that for a second. I want a phone, for starters. I want some books that were published in the last decade. I want to choose my own clothes.
But fuck all of that.
I want a life.
“You can’t just leave me locked up here alone whenever something more important comes up. I don’t know what you do… I don’t know where you spend your time. But I won’t just sit here.”
He rubs the stubble on his chin as if he’s considering something. “You mean to say, you don’t want to be treated like the little doll you are?”
How dare he? Little doll. My face hardens and my tone is ice cold when I reply. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
He laughs and leans down. “Good. Because I didn’t want that, anyway. Now are you going to let me prove my point, or do I need to force it from your lips?”
I’m about to respond, but he doesn’t even bother waiting for the words. With a flick of his wrist the door pushes open, and I go stumbling back into the room.
He catches me before I fall, two strong arms circling around my waist. Using his hold to spin me around, he’s already pulling at the zipper before I know what’s happening.
Instinctively, my hands go to fight him. But then I stop.
This feels too inevitable to put up a fight.
And he’s already pulling the dress down over my shoulders.
Within a few seconds, I’m standing before him in nothing but my underwear. The lamp at the beside is on, so I can see him perfectly. I can see the way he’s looking at me — his eyes raking over every inch of my bare skin.
And still he makes no move towards me.
“Julian?”
It’s like he’s in a daze. When his eyes finally rest on mine, he reaches up and begins undoing the buttons on his shirt.
He wets his lips and then removes his suit jacket and shirt in one fluid movement. I blink a few times at the sight of him. I mean, I’ve felt him before but there’s a big difference between pushing him off me, and seeing him in the flesh.
Perfect. Every part of him.
I shift a bit, blushing at the thought of my too small tits and not particularly flat stomach.
“Lie down,” he says, nodding towards the bed behind me.
“Bossy much?” That’s my fail-safe right there — crack a joke to hide how fucking nervous I am.
He smirks and then takes a step towards me. I automatically take a step back, reminded of the night we first met under way different circumstances. A shiver runs through me at the thought of it.
I was terrified.
Now? Now I’m scared, but not in a bad way.
He closes the gap between us quickly and pushes me back against the bed until I reach the edge and tumble down on to it. I let out a little gasp which he catches with his lips, his body covering mine until I’m sinking down further into the mattress.
My lips part for him and he moves in, caressing and coaxing until I’m squirming under his warm body. He grabs a hold of my thighs and pulls them around his hips, sending me moaning when my clit connects with his hard stomach.
Suddenly the thin fabric of my panties is too much. I want to feel him. Every piece of him.
Maybe he senses that because he’s tugging the straps of my bra down while he grinds against me, his mouth moving to claim the skin he’s just revealed.
“You’re so fucking perfect, do you know that?”
I can’t say anything. No words come from my mouth, just moans and sighs as he laps at my nipples and kneads my breasts with his rough hands.
He moves further down, the wetness between my legs obvious as his body slides against me. Removing the rest of my clothing, he splits me wide open and watches my face as he rubs my clit with his thumb.
I close my eyes, my hands clenched into fists around the bedsheets as my hips buck for him. This is too much. Too. Fucking. Much.
I feel like I’m about to burn up.
“Julian,” I whisper. Finally some words. I manage words and the best I can do is his name?
“Say it, little bird.”
Say what? What?
I’m too delirious and he is making no sense. I don’t know what to say, I just know I want to feel him inside me. I want him to claim me, make me his.
Take the choice away.
And do it now.
He removes his hand and my eyes fly open. Why would he do that?
As if seeing the question written across my face, he chuckles and slides off the end of the bed, standing up in front of me.
“This was about teaching you a lesson, remember?”
“In case you couldn’t tell — I’m getting mighty fed-up of you and your lessons.”
He’s undoing the buckle of his belt while he laughs at me. “Then just admit it.”
“Admit what?”
I watch him as he undresses and stands before me. There’s not a hint of my own insecurity within him. I look him over, every tight muscle, and he just stands there like he’s proud of it.
He gets back on top of me before he answers, pressing his hard body flat against mine and cupping my cheeks.
“Admit it. You feel it too.”
I shake my head. I know I was going to tell him something earlier, but I ended up being quite happy with the fact I didn’t.
He splits my legs open and settles between them. That’s when I feel him, his hard length pressing up against me. Sliding his hand between us, he arranges himself so he’s pushed right up against my entrance.
“Admit you want this. Admit you want us.”
“Julian.”
He knows it. He fucking knows it, so why is he making me say it? Why do I need to admit it?
When he rubs himself against me I think I might die. I repeat his name again and this time it’s a whimper.
“Just say it, piccolina. Say it and I’ll give you everything.”
His lips cover mine and I practically melt around him. He’s not going to stop until I say it. He’s not going to start either, which is exactly what I need him to do.
“I want you.” I whisper the words into his mouth while he kisses me. Not a second later, I feel him there. Edging his way in. I try to split my legs wider, to make space, to stop the pain.
“I want you, too,” he says back. “Every piece of you. All of you. Forever.”
With his last word he pushes all the way in and I squeeze my eyes closed at the sensation. Pain and scorching heat sears at my insides.
“Fuck!” I try to keep it in, I swear I do — but it stings.
“Shhhh.” He’s at my ear, kissing and shushing me. He’s not moving at all… just lying there still above me. Eventually the pain seems to subside, only to be replaced with something else.
Need.
He bites down on my neck and I shift my hips slightly, allowing him even further in. He draws back and pushes, my breath catching in my throat at the sensation.
His hands wrap around me and cup my ass, tilting me up towards him before he buries himself inside me, again and again. A moan rips from my lungs as I squirm, desperate for more o
f what he’s giving me. He’s devouring my neck, my mouth, my cheeks — everything. Taking every single piece of me as if he’s starving.
And I love it.
I want more.
I need more.
Now I’m grinding against him, meeting every one of his thrusts while something inside me builds and builds. He’s taken it away before. He’s let me get so fucking close and tonight I need it.
“You like that, piccolina?” He says the words as he covers my mouth and I bite down on his lip in response. He lets out a groan and slams into me harder.
“Fuck,” I whimper.
“Come for me,” he orders.
My arms snake around his neck and I pull him in close. I’m hot, too hot. And so close.
Then it hits me like a train. My legs clench around him while my body shudders and a moan connects with his mouth. He cups my head, rocking me while I come for him. I feel him shudder while he cries my name — my real name — into my ear and searing heat spreads between my legs.
The pair of us stay where we are, neither of us moving. I feel sleepy and breathless and like this may or may not be a dream.
When his breath finally returns to a steady rate, he slides off me, pulling me with him and arranging me on his chest. It feels so peaceful I think I could just fall asleep, but as the haze starts to clear the feelings of doubt return.
“Did you mean what you said?”
“Yes,” he replies.
“I mean specifically. You said forever.”
He sighs and kisses the top of my head. “I meant every word.”
I poke my head up and study his face.
“Really?”
He shakes his head, as if I’m being silly. I don’t feel silly, though. This is all… well, a whirlwind. Last week I was planning to run away from my life and start again.
I guess I got that… but this isn’t exactly what I’d expected.
“I was about to propose to you. That’s what the party was for. If you hadn’t decided to lie to me, I wouldn’t have had to prove my point.”
I can’t help laughing at him. And then the reality hits.
“Propose?”
“You do know the definition of proposal, don’t you?” He says, mocking the exact same tone I used with him earlier.
