Chapter 401

[ 1,008 words ]

Katia’s POV

I closed the front door harder than I meant to.

My bag hit the floor. I kicked my shoes off and stood there for a second with my back against the wood, trying to get my breathing under control. The argument at my father’s house still sat in my throat. Delia’s voice. Martha’s apology. The way my father had looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time in years. I had said everything I needed to say, and then I had walked out. Now I was home, and my hands would not stop shaking.

Julian stood in the living room doorway.

He already knew. I could see it on his face. The set of his jaw. The way his eyes moved over me like he was checking for damage.

“You went alone,” he said.

“He asked me to p>

“And Delia was there p>

It wasn’t a question, so I nodded.

He crossed the space between us fast. Both hands caught my face, and he kissed me hard, like he was angry I had left the house without him. I kissed him back the same way, fingers already in his shirt, pulling the fabric open. Buttons scattered. He made a low sound against my mouth and backed me into the wall.

His hands went under my dress. He shoved the fabric up to my waist and tore my underwear to the side. Two fingers pushed into me without warning. I gasped, and my head dropped back against the wall.

“You’re shaking,” he said.

“I’m fine p>

“You’re not p>

He spun me around. My chest hit the wall. He yanked the dress higher, and I heard his belt open, then the sound of his zipper. The thick head of his cock pressed against me. He pushed in with one long thrust that forced the air out of my lungs.

“Fuck,” I breathed.

He did not give me time. He fucked me hard and deep, one hand locked on my hip, the other braced beside my head. Every thrust was rough. I pushed back against him, meeting each one, needing the burn, needing him to wipe Delia’s voice out of my head.

“She put her hands on our son,” he said against my ear. “She dragged you into that house to perform for your parents. And you walked in there alone p>

“I handled it p>

“I know you did.” He slammed into me harder. “But I’m done letting them try p>

I moaned. My forehead pressed to the wall. He reached around and rubbed my clit in tight circles while he kept thrusting. The pressure wrecked me fast. My legs started to give. He held me up and kept going.

“Julian p>

“Cum p>

I came hard, crying out as my body clenched around him. He did not stop. He fucked me through it until I was shaking for a different reason, then pulled out, turned me around, and lifted me. My legs wrapped around his waist. He carried me to the couch, dropped me onto my back, and drove back into me in one stroke.

This angle was deeper. I dug my nails into his shoulders. He braced over me and set a brutal pace, eyes locked on mine the entire time.

“No one touches what’s mine,” he said. “Not Delia. Not your mother. Not the press. Not anyone. I’m finished being patient p>

The words hit harder than the thrusts. I pulled him down and kissed him, messy and desperate. He groaned into my mouth and kept moving, hips snapping against me. I could feel every inch of him. Thick. Hard. Claiming.

He pulled out suddenly, flipped me onto my stomach, and dragged my hips up. I barely had time to get my knees under me before he pushed back in from behind. The new angle tore a sound out of my throat. He gripped both of my hips and fucked me like he had something to prove. Skin slapped against skin. I braced my hands on the arm of the couch and pushed back to meet him.

“You don’t go to that house alone again,” he said, his voice rough. “You don’t face her alone again. You don’t face any of them alone. Do you understand me p>

“Yes p>

“Say it properly p>

“I won’t go alone p>

He reached under me and found my clit again, rubbing hard while he thrust. The dual sensation built fast. I was already sensitive from the first orgasm, and this one felt sharper, almost too much. My arms shook. He did not slow down.

“Come again,” he ordered.

I did. The second climax hit harder than the first. My whole body locked up, and I cried out into the cushion. He kept moving through it, chasing his own release, until he finally buried himself deep and came with a low, broken sound against my back. I felt him pulse inside me, hot and thick.

We stayed like that for a long moment, both breathing hard. He rested his forehead between my shoulder blades. His hand stroked down my side, then settled on my hip.

I turned my head enough to see him.

“You’re going to war,” I said quietly.

He lifted his head and looked at me.

“Yes p>

No hesitation. Just a fact. I should have been scared of the look in his eyes. Instead, something solid settled in my chest. I nodded once.

“Then we go together p>

He pulled out slowly, turned me over, and kissed me again. Softer this time, but still deep. His hand cupped my face.

“Aiden is upstairs. Keep it down,” he said. “Asleep though. Zane is outside the door. No one gets near either of you without going through me first p>

I touched his jaw.

“I know p>

He helped me sit up. My dress was ruined. My underwear was destroyed. I did not care. He pulled his own clothes back into place, then reached for me and lifted me into his arms like I weighed nothing. I looped my arms around his neck and let him carry me upstairs.

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