Chapter 186
Julian's POV
The shower was quick and efficient, just hot enough to wash away the last traces of the reception and the formal stiffness of the tuxedo. When I emerged, I expected to find Evelyn curled up on the couch with her wine, maybe reading or just staring out at the ocean.
Instead, the room was dim—she'd blown out most of the candles, leaving only a few flickering on the nightstand. The wine glasses sat on the table, one empty and one still full.
And Evelyn was already in bed, buried under the covers with only the top of her head visible.
I frowned, concerned. "Hey, you okay? You're not feeling sick, are you?"
"Fine," came her muffled voice. "Just tired."
Something in her tone didn't quite match the words, but I decided not to push. It had been a long day, and if she needed sleep, I could wait.
I crossed to the bed and reached for the covers to slip in beside her.
Her hand shot out and clamped onto the duvet, holding it in place.
"Evelyn?"
"Just—give me a second."
Now I was definitely confused. I tugged gently on the covers, but she held on with surprising strength, and when I pulled harder, she still didn't let go.
"What's going on?" I asked, half-amused and half-concerned. "Are you hiding something under there?"
"No," she said, too quickly.
Definitely hiding something.
I changed tactics, moving to the foot of the bed instead, and before she could react, I grabbed the bottom of the duvet and yanked it completely off in one swift motion.
Evelyn let out a small gasp and curled into herself, her face flushed pink, and for a moment all I could do was stare.
She was wearing white lace that barely qualified as clothing—a sheer teddy that left almost nothing to the imagination, with delicate cat ears perched on her head and a tail that I realized with a jolt was clipped to the back of the lingerie. Tiny bells attached to the ears jingled softly with her breathing.
Blood rushed south so fast I felt dizzy.
"Evelyn," I managed, my voice coming out rough. "What—"
"Isabella left it," she said, still not quite meeting my eyes. "As a wedding gift. I thought—I don't know what I thought. This is stupid, I should take it off—"
"Don't." The word came out almost as a command, and I cleared my throat, tried again. "Don't take it off. Please."
She finally looked at me, and the combination of embarrassment and desire in her eyes nearly undid me.
I climbed onto the bed slowly, deliberately, watching the way her breath quickened and the bells chimed with each movement. "You have no idea how you look right now," I said quietly, reaching out to trace one finger along the edge of the lace. "Absolutely fucking perfect."
Her skin was warm under my touch, and when I leaned down to kiss her, she opened for me immediately, the taste of wine still on her tongue. I took my time, exploring her mouth while my hands mapped the curves barely concealed by the sheer fabric, feeling her arch into my touch and hearing those little bells ring with every shift of her body.
When I finally pulled back, she was panting softly, her pupils blown wide.
"Julian," she whispered.
"Tell me what you want," I said, my hand sliding down her stomach to the apex of her thighs, where I discovered the lingerie was open, leaving her completely exposed. "Tell me, Evelyn."
"Touch me," she managed. "Please—"
I kissed my way down her body, pausing to appreciate the way the lace framed her breasts, the stiff peaks of her nipples visible through the sheer fabric. I took one into my mouth through the lace, sucking hard enough to make her gasp, then moved to the other, using my teeth to scrape gently until she was arching off the bed and those little bells were chiming with every movement.
"Julian," she breathed, her hands coming up to tangle in my hair. "Please—"
"Please what?" I asked, kissing down her stomach, feeling the muscles jump under my lips. "Tell me what you want, Evelyn."
"Your mouth," she managed, her voice shaky. "I want your mouth on me."
"Where?" I traced my tongue along the edge of the lace, right above where she was already glistening with arousal. "Here?"
"Lower," she gasped. "You know where—"
"I want to hear you say it."
Her face flushed deeper, but her eyes met mine with that particular mix of embarrassment and desire that made my cock throb. "I want your mouth on my pussy," she said, the words coming out in a rush. "Please, Julian."
"Good girl," I murmured, and settled between her thighs.
The lingerie was cut away at the crotch, leaving her completely exposed and open to me, and the sight made my mouth water. She was already wet, her folds swollen and pink, and when I leaned in and ran my tongue from her entrance to her clit in one long, slow stroke, she cried out and her hips bucked off the bed.
I held her down with one hand splayed across her lower stomach while I explored her with my tongue, learning what made her gasp and what made her moan, what made those bells jingle frantically and what made her go silent except for harsh breathing.
When I finally focused on her clit, circling it with the tip of my tongue before sucking it into my mouth, she grabbed at the sheets and her thighs started to tremble.
"That's it," I murmured against her. "Let me hear you."
I slid two fingers inside her, feeling how tight and hot she was, how her inner walls clenched around me immediately. She was so wet that my fingers slid in easily, and when I curled them up to find that spot inside her, she made a sound that was almost a sob.
"Oh god," she gasped. "Julian, I'm going to—"
"Not yet," I said, pulling back just enough to make her whimper. "Not until I say so."
I kept her right on that edge, my mouth and fingers working in tandem to bring her close and then backing off, again and again, until she was writhing beneath me and those bells were chiming constantly and her hands were fisted in my hair, pulling almost painfully.
"Please," she begged, and her voice was wrecked, desperate. "Please, I need—I can't—"
"What do you need?" I asked, my lips brushing against her clit with every word. "Tell me, baby."
"I need to come," she sobbed. "Please let me come, please—"
"Such a good girl, begging so pretty for me," I murmured, and finally, finally gave her what she needed.
I sucked her clit hard while my fingers thrust deep and curled up, hitting that spot inside her over and over, and she came apart with a sharp cry that was almost a scream. Her whole body went rigid, her pussy clenching rhythmically around my fingers while I kept my mouth on her, drawing out her orgasm until she was shaking and pushing at my head because it was too much.
Only then did I pull back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and looking up at her. She was sprawled across the bed, her chest heaving, the cat ears askew and her face flushed pink, and she'd never looked more beautiful.
Before she'd fully come down, I was already reaching for the nightstand drawer, my cock so hard it was almost painful.
Her hand caught my wrist.
I froze, looking down at her flushed face and dazed eyes. "What's wrong?"