Chapter 246

[ 1,047 words ]

Julian’s POV

My blood was boiling.

The walk from the media wall to the private executive offices at the back of the exhibition hall was a blur of cold, sharp rage. Marcus was handling the security team and the press, but I didn’t care about the press. I didn’t care about Tessa Sterling, and I certainly didn’t care about Delia’s screeching hysterics.

All I could see was Katia’s face.

I could see the slow, mocking nod she had given me. I could see the way she had raised that glass of water to her lips, her eyes completely calm, completely untouched, as if she were watching a bad soap opera instead of another woman putting her mouth on her husband. She had smirked at me. She had deliberately let me see her amusement, knowing exactly how it would shred my self-control.

I reached the door to her private VIP office. I didn’t knock. I gripped the brass handle, threw the door open, and stepped inside.

Katia was standing behind a heavy mahogany desk, her back to me as she looked out the window at the harbor. Her black dress fit her perfectly, hugging the curve of her waist and the swell of her hips. She didn’t flinch when the door slammed against the stopper. She didn’t even turn around immediately. She was still pretending.

I closed the door behind me and turned the heavy brass lock. The click of the deadbolt echoed in the quiet office.

“Get out, Julian,” she said, her voice cool and level. “I’m reviewing the sponsor contracts p>

“Review this,” I growled.

I crossed the room in three long strides. Katia finally turned, her chin up, her corporate armor locked tightly into place. She looked at me with that same mild, highly amused disbelief she had displayed on the red carpet. It was a lie, and we both knew it, but she was going to play the hand until I forced her to fold.

“You’re tracking dirt on the rug,” she said, her eyes dropping to my boots.

“You think this is funny?” I stepped directly into her space, my chest nearly brushing hers. The scent of her—jasmine, clean skin, and the sharp edge of her own arousal—hit my senses, making my cock throb violently against my trousers. “You stand out there and watch that bitch touch me, and you smirk? You drink your water like it’s a fucking show p>

Katia tilted her head, a slow, provocative smile touching the corner of her lips. “Why shouldn’t I? It was a very impressive performance. Monaco must have been beautiful five years ago, Julian. Did you prefer the racer’s touch? She certainly seemed to know her way around your lapels p>

The taunt was the breaking point.

“Shut your mouth,” I snapped.

I didn’t argue with her. I reached out, my hands grabbing her waist, and lifted her. Katia let out a sharp gasp of surprise as I slammed her back-first against the heavy mahogany desk. My arm swept across the polished wood, sending her laptop, her folders, and her glass of water crashing to the floor with a loud, violent clatter.

I pinned her down, my body weight crushing hers into the desk.

“Julian, stop—” she started, her hands rising to push against my shoulders, but there was no force behind the gesture. Her eyes were wide, dark, and completely wired with the same adrenaline that was running through my veins.

“I told you,” I growled, my face inches from hers. “Never play games with me, Katia. You are mine. You don’t get to look at another woman claiming me and smile p>

I reached down and grabbed the hem of her black dress, hauling it up to her waist. She wasn’t wearing tights, just her silk thong. I didn’t waste time taking it off; I hooked my fingers into the delicate fabric and ripped it apart. The sound of the silk tearing was sharp and loud.

I unbuckled my belt and shoved my trousers down. My cock was fully hard, thick, and throbbing with a dark, heavy pressure that made my entire groin ache. It was leaking pre-cum, the head slick and hot as it pressed against her bare thigh.

Katia’s breath was coming in short, ragged hitches, her chest heaving against mine. Her legs were already parting, her knees rising instinctively to make room for my weight.

“Look at me,” I commanded, grabbing her chin and forcing her eyes up. “Tell me who you belong to p>

“Julian, please,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

“Who?” I demanded.

She didn’t answer, her lips parting as she tried to breathe. I didn’t wait. I guided the head of my thick, rigid cock to her opening. She was already wet, her body betraying her mock-indifference the moment my hands touched her skin.

I drove all the way in.

Katia let out a loud, high-pitched scream, her head thrashing back against the polished wood of the desk. The sudden, brutal entry filled her completely, stretching her tight, swollen walls to their absolute limit. I didn’t go easy. I didn’t give her time to adjust. I withdrew to the head and drove back in, my hips slamming against hers with a heavy, wet thud that rattled the mahogany furniture.

“Ah! Julian!” she cried out, her fingers digging deep into my shoulders, her nails scratching through my shirt.

“You’re mine,” I growled, my voice a low, territorial rasp. “Every single inch of this pussy is mine. You think you can let another man look at you? You think you can let that bitch think she has a claim on what’s in this room p>

I increased the pace immediately, my thrusts becoming savage, heavy, and completely relentless. I wasn’t being gentle. I was marking her, driving my massive shaft deep into her wet core, hitting her cervix with a force that made her see stars.

Katia’s pussy was gripping and ungripping my dick in tight, violent spasms. Every time I pulled back, her internal muscles clenched around my shaft, trying to hold onto the size of me, and when I plunged back in, they stretched and wrapped around me like a vice. The sheer friction of her soaking wetness was burning hot, sending a jolt of pure, raw pleasure straight to my balls.

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