Chapter 187
Evelyn's POV
My body was still trembling from the orgasm, my mind hazy with pleasure, but the words came out clear and certain. "I don't want you to use that."
Julian went very still. "Evelyn, if we don't—there's a risk—"
"I know," I said, tightening my grip on his wrist. "I want to feel you, Julian. Just you. Nothing between us."
His eyes searched mine, and I saw the moment he understood what I was really saying.
"You could get pregnant," he said carefully. "Are you sure—"
"I want that," I interrupted, the words tumbling out now that I'd started. "I want your baby. I want a family with you. I've spent so many years not believing I could have this, and now that I do, I don't want to wait."
For a heartbeat, he just stared at me.
Then his face transformed, joy and desire and something almost reverent flooding his expression. "You're sure?" he asked one more time. "Absolutely sure?"
"I'm sure."
"Then let's make a baby, Mrs. Russell."
He kissed me hard, and I felt him position himself at my entrance, the head of his cock nudging against me with nothing between us for the first time. The sensation when he finally pushed in was overwhelming—the heat of him, the stretch, the intimate slide of skin on skin that made every nerve ending light up.
"Fuck," he gasped against my neck. "You feel—so fucking perfect. So tight and wet and—"
He didn't finish the sentence, just started to move, slow and deep, and I wrapped my legs around his hips and held on while trying to ignore the constant jingle of those ridiculous bells with every movement, the way the lace rubbed against my oversensitive nipples, the tail that I could feel brushing against my thighs.
I felt exposed, ridiculous, like I was playing dress-up in someone else's fantasy, and part of me wanted to tear the whole thing off and—
"Evelyn," Julian said, his voice rough as he stilled inside me. "Where did you go?"
I blinked up at him, realizing I'd been holding myself stiff, not quite present. "I'm here, I just—"
"You're thinking too much," he said, and there was understanding in his eyes mixed with heat. "This is embarrassing for you, isn't it? The outfit."
Heat flooded my face and I looked away. "It's stupid, I shouldn't have—"
"Look at me," he commanded gently, and when I did, his expression was so tender it made my chest ache. "You wore this for me, didn't you? To make me happy?"
"Yes," I admitted quietly.
"And I am happy—fuck, Evelyn, seeing you like this, knowing you did this for me, it's the hottest thing I've ever seen." He rolled his hips, making me gasp as he hit that perfect spot inside me. "But you know what would make me even happier?"
"What?" I managed.
"If you enjoyed it too," he said, his hand coming up to play with one of the cat ears, making the bell chime. "If you stopped thinking about how you look and just felt how good this is. How good I'm making you feel."
His other hand slid between us to find my clit, circling it with just the right pressure, and I couldn't stop the moan that escaped.
"That's it," he murmured. "Stop thinking. Just feel. Take what you want from me, Evelyn. Use me. Fuck me back."
Something in his words, in the permission he was giving me, made something inside me snap. I stopped trying to stay still and quiet, stopped worrying about how I looked or sounded, and just let myself feel—the stretch of him inside me, the bells jingling with every movement, the lace rubbing against my skin in a way that was starting to feel good instead of embarrassing.
I spread my legs wider, hooking my ankles behind his back to open myself up completely, and the change in angle let him sink even deeper until I could feel the base of his cock grinding against my entrance with every thrust, the coarse hair there creating friction that made me gasp.
"Fuck, yes," Julian groaned. "Just like that, baby. Take all of me."
I clenched my inner muscles deliberately, squeezing tight around him, and felt him shudder above me, his rhythm faltering for just a moment.
"Christ, Evelyn," he gasped. "Do that again."
I did, tightening around him rhythmically, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock as I did, and the sensation combined with the pressure at my entrance was pushing me closer and closer to the edge.
"Julian," I gasped against his mouth. "I'm going to—"
He didn't answer with words, just thrust harder, deeper, his hips slamming against mine with a force that made the bells chime frantically and pushed me up the mattress. His hand slid between us to find my clit, circling it with firm, relentless pressure that made me cry out, and the dual sensation of him pounding into me while his fingers worked that sensitive bundle of nerves was so intense I could barely breathe.
The world started to blur at the edges, my vision going hazy as he kept up that punishing pace, kept hitting that spot inside me over and over while his fingers never stopped moving on my clit. I felt like I was being split apart, like the pleasure was too much, like I might actually pass out from the intensity of it.
Then the orgasm hit me and my brain went completely blank, every thought scattered as pure sensation took over. I felt like I was flying, weightless and untethered, my whole body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through me. I heard myself making sounds—screaming, maybe, or sobbing, I couldn't tell—and distantly felt him bury himself deep as his own release hit, felt the hot pulse of his cum flooding into me, but it was all secondary to the white-hot bliss consuming every nerve ending in my body.
We were both gasping for air, and I expected him to pull out, to collapse beside me, but instead he stayed hard inside me, and after just a moment to catch his breath, he pulled out and flipped me over with a strength that made me yelp in surprise.
"Hands and knees," he said, his voice rough with renewed desire. "I want to see that tail bounce while I fuck you."
The words should have embarrassed me, but instead they sent a fresh wave of heat through my body.