Page 27 of Candy Cane Chains

"How did you-"

"Glass bird ornaments aren't common." He lifts one carefully. "It didn't take me long to track down a set I thought you'd like."

I take the ornament from him, memories flooding back of decorating my grandmother's tree as a child. The weight feels exactly right in my palm. "They're perfect."

Julian steps back, giving me space as I begin placing them on the tree. The sound system plays softly in the background - holiday classics filling the room. I'm lost in the peaceful moment until one song starts.

That fucking song from the night in his office.

The ornament in my hand trembles. Suddenly, I feel suffocated, the music pulling me back to that moment as I watched Travis fuck his assistant, to the way that he made me feel so disregarded.

Tears spill before I can stop them. The ornament slips from my fingers, but Julian catches it before it can shatter. His other hand cups my elbow, steadying me.

I'm almost surprised when he turns me, cupping my face. "What is it?" His eyes search mine. "Tell me what it is, Ivy."

There's such thinly veiled rage in his voice that I shake my head. I don't even want to mention Travis to Julian.

"I hate that he's still in my head." I swipe at my cheeks. "That stupid song-"

He turns, going to cut off the music, and the sound of my sniffs and harsh breathing fill the air instead. It's not even that I miss him, but the feeling of being so rejected, so blatantly disrespected and ignored, guts me.

Julian's hands return to my face, wiping away the last trace of tears. His gaze locks onto mine, ice-blue eyes unyielding yet not unkind. He doesn't speak, doesn't need to. The silence stretches, comfortable and expectant.

I don't think. I just act. Stepping closer, I rest my forehead against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart. His arms envelop me, strong and secure. It's not an invitation buta capitulation. A surrender to something I can't define yet can't deny.

His chin rests atop my head, his voice a low rumble. "You're stronger than this, Ivy."

I nod, breathing in the scent of him - cedar and citrus, with an undercurrent of something darker. "I know."

"Then show me."

Pulling back slightly, I meet his gaze again. There's no demand in his expression, no command. Just an expectation. One I plan to fulfill.

Julian doesn't leave my side the rest of the day. I wonder if he was bothered by the way that I was hurt by someone other than him.

Dinner is quiet. The clink of silverware against china echoes through the dining room. Julian watches me, not predatory, but attentive. Like he's waiting for something.

After dinner, I go to take a bath while he works in his study. It gives me time to relax, to untangle the mess of feelings I've bene ignoring from Travis. It makes me realize that while Travis clearly had been cheating on me for a while, I was clinging to something that wasn't working.

And I'm glad to be out of it now.

When I get out of the bath, I find a little green teddy waiting for me on the bed. I slip it on, the cool fabric whispering against my skin. The reflection staring back at me is familiar yet altered. There's a softness in my eyes, a calmness in my features.

The door creaks open. Julian leans against the frame, eyes tracing the lines of my body. His approval isn't verbalized but understood. It's in the slight nod, the subtle shift of his stance.

I walk towards him, bare feet sinking into the plush carpet. His hand reaches out, fingers tangling in my hair as he tilts my head back. Our breaths mingle, his minty and fresh, mine hurried and warm.

My hands find his chest, fingertips brushing the crisp fabric of his shirt. I feel the hard planes of muscle underneath, the heat of his skin seeping through. His heartbeat is steady, unaffected. But his eyes - they flash with something raw, primal.

His fingers trail down my spine, tracing the curve until they rest just above the small of my back. The touch sends shivers along my skin, raises goosebumps. My body arches into his, seeking more contact, more heat.

"You are such a good girl," he murmurs, mouth close to my ear. "Always doing what I want, even when I don't tell you to."

The praise sends a jolt through me, settling somewhere deep and untouched. It feels... right. Whole.

His hand presses flat against my back, guiding me closer. Our bodies align, fitting together seamlessly. My breath hitches as his lips brush my neck, lingering over the crescent moon birthmark. It's not a kiss, not quite. More like a promise.

Every nerve ending hums with anticipation. Every sense heightens, attuning to him. The room fades away, leaving only us, only this moment. Only his touch, his voice, his approval.

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