Chapter 85
Evelyn's POV
Julian dipped one finger inside me, just barely, then withdrew. I made a sound of frustration, and he did it again—teasing, testing, not giving me what I needed. His thumb found my clit while his finger played at my entrance, never pushing deep enough.
"Julian—please—I can't—"
Finally he pushed two fingers inside me, and I cried out at the sudden fullness. He worked me slowly at first, his fingers curling to find that spot inside me while his thumb maintained steady pressure on my clit. The dual sensation made my thighs tremble.
"That's it," he murmured against my neck, his fingers moving faster now. "Let me feel you."
I was so wet I could hear it—obscene, desperate sounds as his fingers pumped in and out of me. He added a third finger, stretching me, and I gasped at the burn that quickly turned to pleasure. His thumb circled my clit faster, and I felt myself climbing toward the edge.
"You're close," he said, his voice rough. "I can feel you tightening around my fingers. You want to come?"
"Yes—please—"
But then he slowed, keeping me right on the edge but not letting me fall over. I whimpered in frustration, my hips rolling against his hand, chasing the release he was deliberately withholding.
"Julian—please—"
"Please what?" His voice was dark, edged with control that was barely holding.
"I need you inside me." I pulled at him desperately. "Please—"
He withdrew his hand, and I whimpered at the loss. He reached for the nightstand, grabbed a condom, but then he stopped. Instead of tearing it open, he set it down on the bed between us.
He kicked off his pants, his boxers, but didn't move to cover me. Didn't position himself between my thighs. Instead, he lay down beside me, propped up on one elbow, and reached out to touch my hair. His fingers combed through it slowly, almost absently, while his eyes searched my face.
"I can't do this," he said finally, his voice low.
"I can't pretend last time didn't happen. Can't just fuck you and then have you kick me out in the morning like it meant nothing." His hand stilled in my hair. "I need to know what this is. What we are. Because I can't—" He stopped, jaw clenching. "I can't keep doing this if it's just going to be the same pattern. You letting me in, then pushing me away. I won't survive it."
My chest tightened. Part of me wanted to give him what he needed—wanted to promise him everything, wanted to be brave enough to claim him publicly, to stop hiding.
But the other part—the part that had survived five years in Vorkuta, the part that understood how dangerous visibility could be—that part screamed at me to protect him. To protect us both.
And there was still so much he didn't know. So much I couldn't tell him yet. The revenge I was planning. The blood that would be on my hands. If I dragged him into my life completely, if everyone knew we were together, he would be implicated in everything I did.
"Julian—" My voice came out unsteady. "I can't go public. Not yet. It's too dangerous—for both of us—"
I stopped, took a breath. "But I can promise you this. Privately, when we're alone—I won't push you away again. I won't pretend this doesn't matter. I won't kick you out in the morning."
I held his gaze. "I can't give you everything you want. Not yet. But I can give you that."
His expression flickered—hope and frustration warring in his eyes.
"And if that's not enough?" I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. "If you need more than I can give right now—then leave. I won't blame you. I won't—" My throat tightened. "I'll understand."
Julian's jaw clenched. His whole body trembled with tension. For a long moment he just stared at me, and I thought he might actually walk away.
Then he closed his eyes, took a shaking breath.
"Evelyn," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm going to die because of you."
He tore open the condom packet with his teeth, rolled it on with shaking hands. Then he moved over me, settled between my thighs, but didn't enter. Instead, he took his cock in hand and dragged the head through my wetness—slow, deliberate, coating himself in my arousal.
The sensation made me gasp. He was so close, right there at my entrance, but not pushing in. Just sliding up and down, the head of his cock brushing against my clit on each upward stroke, then circling my entrance on the way back down.
"Julian—" My voice was desperate, pleading.
He gripped my jaw with his free hand, forced me to meet his eyes while his cock continued that maddening slide through my folds.
"Remember this," he said roughly, pressing just slightly against my entrance but not entering. "I'm not staying because of the sex."
He pushed forward just enough that the head of his cock breached me—barely an inch—then pulled back out. I whimpered, my hips lifting, trying to take more of him. His grip on my jaw tightened.
"Look at me." He slid through my wetness again, circled my clit, moved back down. "I'm staying because what I feel for you is strong enough that I can tolerate being your secret."
Another shallow thrust, just the tip, then withdrawal. I was trembling, desperate, so wet I could feel it coating my thighs. I tried to focus on his words, tried to understand what he was saying, but all I could think about was how badly I needed him inside me.
"But that doesn't mean I like it." He pressed in again, maybe two inches this time, stretching me just enough to make me ache for more. His eyes burned into mine. "That doesn't mean I'm not going to push."
"Julian—please—"
"That doesn't mean—" He pushed in another inch, his jaw clenched with the effort of restraint. "—I'm ever going to stop wanting more."
Then he snapped.
His hand left my jaw to grip my hip with bruising force, and he drove into me in one savage thrust—hard, brutal, burying himself to the hilt. The sudden fullness made me cry out, my back arching off the bed, my nails digging into his shoulders.
He didn't give me time to adjust. Didn't ease the intensity. He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in, the force of it driving me up the bed. Again. Again. Each thrust punishing, relentless, exactly what my body had been screaming for.
"Is this what you needed?" he growled against my neck, his hips driving forward with savage precision. "Is this rough enough for you?"
"Yes—" The word came out broken. "Yes—don't stop—"