Chapter163 I want to bury myself inside you until neither of us can think straight

Chapter163 I want to bury myself inside you until neither of us can think straight
Chloe

I had been lying in bed for twenty minutes, replaying the noon’s disaster in my head, when I finally picked up the phone and called Tiffany. My body still ached with that restless, pregnancy-fueled need that refused to quiet down.

She answered on the second ring. “Hey, you. You sound like you’re about to burn something down.”

“Not something,” I muttered. “Someone. Namely my husband.”

I told her the short version—how I’d shown up in his office wearing almost nothing, how close we’d gotten, and how his phone had ruined everything a few times this week. Tiffany made the appropriate horrified noises.

“Girl, that’s actually evil. Is he at least making it up to you with his hands or mouth, or is he just leaving you completely high and dry?”

“Both,” I sighed. “He’s been using everything except the one thing I actually want. Every time we get close, he pulls away like he’s scared he’ll say something he shouldn’t. It’s driving me insane.”

Tiffany hummed sympathetically. “Men are the worst. Speaking of which—wait, you said he mentioned something about Lena having a boyfriend?”

“Yeah.” I shifted against the pillows, grateful for the distraction. “He told me Lena has a boyfriend and that I’d be ‘very surprised’ to know who it is. I’ve been trying to figure it out all afternoon.”

“Oh my God, now I’m invested. Who do you think it is?”

“I don’t know! That’s the problem. I was honestly starting to suspect Marcus, because those two are always together in the office, but—”

“Wait, Marcus?” Tiffany’s voice went up an octave. “As in, your husband’s assistant Marcus?”

“Yeah? Why?”

There was a long, loaded pause on the other end.

“…Because Marcus and I have been seeing each other since your wedding announcement party six months ago,” Tiffany said slowly. “And he definitely does not have a girlfriend named Lena.”

I sat up so fast my head spun. “What? You and Marcus? Since the party? Tiffany, you’ve been hiding this from me for half a year?”

“I was going to tell you! I swear! It just… happened that night, and then we kept seeing each other, and I didn’t know how to bring it up without making it weird.”

I was still reeling. “Okay, first of all—how is he? Because I cannot picture serious, clipboard-carrying Marcus being any kind of fun in bed.”

Tiffany let out a short, delighted laugh. “He’s filthy. Like, shockingly filthy. The man has zero chill once the tie comes off. Very focused. Very creative. I was not expecting that level of… thoroughness.”

“Oh my God.” I pressed a hand over my mouth, trying not to laugh too loudly. “That’s actually kind of amazing. I thought he’d be the type to ask for written consent forms in triplicate.”

“Right? That’s what makes it so hot.” Tiffany’s tone turned sly. “Anyway, if it’s not Marcus, then who the hell is Lena dating? Did Julian give you any other hints?”

“Nothing. Just that I’d be surprised.” I frowned, thinking. “Maybe someone from another department? Or—wait, do you think it could be someone we both know?”

“Like who? One of the analysts?”

“Maybe. Or—” I stopped, the pieces suddenly clicking in a way that made my stomach twist. “Oh. Oh no. What if it’s someone who works closely with Julian? Like, really closely?”

Tiffany gasped. “You don’t think—”

Before she could finish the thought, the bedroom door opened.

Julian stood in the doorway, one hand still on the knob, his expression frozen halfway between confusion and something darker. His eyes locked on mine, and I watched the exact moment he registered what he’d just overheard.

I felt my face go hot. “Tiffany, I have to go.”

“Chloe, wait—”

I ended the call and set the phone down slowly. Julian hadn’t moved. He was staring at me like I’d just confessed to a crime.

“Other men,” he said quietly. “You’re discussing what other men are like in bed now?”

The jealousy in his voice was unmistakable, thick and possessive. I crossed my arms over my chest, refusing to feel guilty.

“You’ve been using your mouth and your hands to get me off for weeks,” I said, keeping my tone light even though my pulse was racing. “I’m not allowed to wonder what it would be like if someone else actually followed through?”

Julian’s jaw tightened. He closed the door behind him with deliberate calm and walked toward the bed. “You think I don’t want to fuck you properly?”

“I think you’re terrified that if you do, you’ll finally tell me what you’re hiding.” I met his gaze head-on. “Every time we get close, you stop. You want me, but you’re scared you’ll slip up. So yes, Julian, I’m frustrated.”

He stopped at the edge of the mattress, looking down at me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

“I want you every second of every day,” he said, voice rough. “I want to bury myself inside you until neither of us can think straight. But if I let go—if I stop holding back—I’m afraid I’ll tell you everything. And I can’t do that yet. Not until it’s perfect.”

I swallowed, the honesty in his voice hitting somewhere deep.

“So you’re going to keep edging me until after the baby is born?” I asked softly.

Julian reached out and traced the curve of my belly with surprising gentleness. “I’m going to take care of you however I can until then. And when the time comes, when you finally know what I’ve been planning, I’m going to make up for every single night I had to stop.”

His hand slid higher, cupping one heavy breast through the thin camisole. My body responded instantly, traitorously.

“Until then,” he murmured, leaning down until his lips brushed my ear, “you can think about whatever you want. But remember who you belong to.”

I shivered, caught between frustration and the familiar pull of wanting him.

Julian straightened, a small, satisfied smile tugging at his mouth despite the jealousy still simmering in his eyes.

“Now,” he said, “tell me more about this conversation with Tiffany. I want to know exactly which parts made you laugh.”