Chapter 223

[ 1,083 words ]

Julian’s POV

I lay in the dark of her Brooklyn penthouse, but the quiet of the room was a lie.

She was asleep against my chest, her breathing slow and even, but my blood was still running hot and black. Every time I closed my eyes, I didn’t see the dark bedroom. I saw the dining room table at the Kensington house. I saw Christopher leaning toward her. I saw the polite, receptive nod she had given him—the nod she usually reserved for clients she wanted to hook, or worse, men she was actually willing to listen to. And then there were the words that had been looping in my head like a disease since we left: Chris, reach out.

She had invited him into her space. Right in front of me.

At three in the morning, the tension in my jaw was so tight it ached. My cock was already rock-hard, pressing heavy and insistent against the curve of her thigh. I didn’t want to sleep. I wanted to destroy the boundary she kept trying to draw between us.

I reached down, gripped her hip, and turned her.

She woke with a start, her eyes widening in the dim light of the city street lamp filtering through the glass. She looked at me, her breath hitching instantly as she felt the rigidity of my body.

“So you want to be fucked by Christopher now?” I asked.

My voice was a low, jagged rasp in the quiet of the bedroom. Katia just looked at me. Her lips parted slightly, but she didn’t answer. The defiance was still there, sitting behind her pupils, refusing to yield even when she was pinned under my arm.

“Oh, now you can’t talk?” I said.

I didn’t wait for her to find her voice. I grabbed her waist, flipped her over onto her stomach, and pinned her lower back with my forearm. Her bare ass was exposed, pale and smooth in the shadows. I raised my hand and spanked her.

Crack!

The sound of my palm hitting her flesh was loud, sharp, and violent in the silent room. She let out a sharp gasp, her fingers gripping the sheets. I didn’t let her recover. I hit her again, harder, the impact leaving a stinging, bright red heat on her skin.

“Julian!” she screamed, her head thrashing against the pillow.

“You will talk to me when I’m talking to you, woman,” I growled, my hand resting heavy and hot on her aching flesh. I leaned my weight down on her, my chest crushing her back into the mattress. “Do you want to fuck that man with a five-digit salary? Is that what you want p>

“I—I—I p>

I spanked her again, the skin-on-skin contact sending a jolt of pure, territorial rage straight to my groin. My cock was throbbing, leaking pre-cum against her thigh.

“I-I-I what?” I demanded.

She didn’t answer. She bit her lip, trying to hold in the sound of her own breathing. I was done with the questions. I reached down, grabbed her hips, and pulled her knees up under her so her ass was high in the air. I positioned the head of my thick, pulsing cock at her wet opening. I didn’t tease her this time. I didn’t give her the slow, agonizing warning of the tip.

I shoved my entire length straight inside her.

Katia let out a loud, high-pitched scream that cut through the silence of the penthouse. She was tight—so incredibly tight—her walls dragging violently against my shaft as I buried myself to the base. The sudden, massive stretch had her body shaking, her elbows buckling under her as she tried to sink into the mattress to escape the depth of it.

“Are you going to talk, or do you want me to make you talk?” I asked, my voice vibrating against her spine as I held her hips in an iron grip.

“Julian, please,” she sobbed, her face buried in the pillows. “It’s too big… please be gentle p>

“Gentle, you say?” I sneered, pulling back until only the head of my cock was inside her before driving back in with a heavy, bruising thrust. “Were you considering my feelings when you asked that dumbass to reach out to you? Were you thinking about ’gentle’ when you let him sit in my seat p>

Katia opened her mouth to talk, trying to form an explanation, but I didn’t give her the breath. I started thrusting deep and fast. I was relentless, my hips slamming against her ass with a heavy, wet thud. Every stroke was a punishment. I was driving so deep I was hitting her cervix, hitting her womb, hitting every single right and wrong place inside her.

She was crying out with every movement, her moans becoming jagged, high-pitched sobs of friction and overwhelming stimulation. The tight, wet heat of her pussy was clamping down on me like a vice, trying to survive the speed and the depth of my thrusts.

I pulled out to my head and drove in again, hard. The force of the impact was too much. Katia scrambled, her hands fumbling against the sheets, and she literally jumped off the bed.

She ran to the far corner of the dark bedroom, her bare skin shivering in the cool air, her chest heaving as she pressed her back against the wall. She was panting, her thighs wet with my pre-cum and her own juices, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and absolute, raw arousal.

“You are probably fucking my sister every night,” she yelled, her voice cracking with a desperate, angry pain, “and I am not allowed to have fun p>

The mention of Delia made me stop. I stood up from the bed, completely naked, my massive, fully hard cock dripping in the dark. I didn’t look at her with anger; I looked at her with the cold, absolute certainty of a man who owned the room. I slowly walked toward her, my shadow towering over her as I closed the distance between us.

“Have fun?” I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous, quiet whisper. “The only person you are going to have fun with is me, Kitten p>

I stepped into her space, pinning her against the cold plaster. She tried to slide to the side, but I planted my hands on either side of her head, locking her in.

“And right now,” I said, looking down into her wet, dark eyes, “you are annoying me p>

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