My breath hitched, just slightly, but it was enough.
A shiver raced across my skin, goosebumps blooming on my thighs before melting away under my dress, as if escaping the heat he radiated.
A satisfied smile tugged at his lips.
Then one finger hooked into my panties, brushing gently over me, just enough to feel, not enough to satisfy. My hips shifted without thinking.
He tugged them down slowly, letting them fall from my knees to my ankles with no rush. No shame. Just claiming.
“Hmmm.” He licked his bottom lip like he could already taste me.
“I pictured green, to match the dress,” he murmured. “But this black lace?”
A low whistle. “Sexy as fuck.”
I tried to breathed evenly and keep my cool, but everything about him…his voice, hands, and presence was my slow unraveling.
The air between us was cool, but the heat coursing through my veins made me feel flushed, almost dizzy. That familiar ache returned, but so did the doubt. I was confident, usually. I knew what I was doing, but being alone with Julien?
It felt like the first time.
He wasn’t just sexy. He was sure, smooth, and powerful. The kind of man who didn’t ask for attention, he drew it.
He was the first man I’d let in since my drought of celibacy.
So yeah… that confidence?
It was working overtime right now.
Julien dropped to his knees between my thighs, and in one smooth motion, pulled his shirt over his head. The way he moved lit something up in me. This man wasn’t stalling. He was taking his time.
He let the shirt fall to the floor and stood half-shadowed by the city light pouring in from behind me.
He looked unreal.
His arms were thick, muscle layered on muscle, the kind of strength you feel more than see. His shoulders flexed under tight skin, veins like maps trailing down toward hands that already knew too much about my body.
His chest was broad and cut deep, the kind of build that came from discipline, not vanity. There was no flexing, no performance, just years of quiet control layered into the muscle.
He looked carved. All sharp lines and shadows, like a statue brought to life…
Only better.
Because this one looked at me like he knew exactly what to do with all that strength.
Like he could crush me…
Or carry me.
And I didn’t know which I wanted more.
He took off my heels and leaned in close on the couch, his hands moving up my dress, hiking it up to show off my perfectly groomed pussy.
Good thing I always stayed ready.
He grabbed my hips and pulled me to the end of the couch, eyes on me the whole time.
“Pretty,”