Leaps & Lies

Chapter Twenty-Two

“ I could get used to you kneeling for me,” Vivian says when she finally catches her breath.

Julian’s rearranged her securely on his bed, legs no longer dangling off the edge. He’s looming over her though, all lithe, warm skin, and tented boxer briefs. His dark hair is messy, curls askew and doing their best to defy gravity and reason. His chin and the dark stubble that calls it home are shiny with moisture. Combined with his disastrous curls and uneven smirk, the effect should be silly. Instead, it’s breathtaking.

She still wants more. He’s made her insatiable.

“So much for no more smart-ass comments,” he says, voice raspy and low.

“You’ll have to do better than a few licks if you want to shut me up,” she retorts.

Why can’t she keep her mouth shut around this man? More than only pushing her within the walls of Ellapond, he pushes her within herself. Rubbing her in all the wrong—and right—ways until she’s stretching. Forcing her to grow into herself. Inspiring her to spotlight the boldest version of Vivian, the one that’s spent twenty-four years waiting in the wings. The version desperate to take center stage. In every sense of the meaning.

Sex with Julian feels like a whole lot more than just sex.

“‘Better than a few licks.’” He scoffs. “That’s what we’re calling it now? If you want better than a few licks, you’ll have to tell me what you have in mind. I only hope I can live up to the lofty expectations of the Sugar Plum Fairy.”

For all the versions of Julian that she’s seen so far—cranky morning rehearsal Julian, evil demon Julian who makes her do extra shoulder rehab, pushy and concerned Julian from the hospital and after—almost-naked teasing Julian might be her absolute favorite.

When he slips out of his boxer briefs and tosses a foil packet onto the bed next to her, Vivian immediately reevaluates. Naked Julian is her favorite Julian.

“You should always be naked,” Vivian says, completely ignoring his earlier taunts about her expectations .

“Always?” he asks, the corner of his mouth creeping upward as he leans in to steal a kiss.

As Vivian admires all the warm skin on display, she fights the urge to nod robotically. His career has gifted Julian with defined strength, while age has given him a rugged softness. Enough imperfections to appear human.

Except for his cock. It hangs long and heavy, reddish head curling slightly left. His cock looks perfect.

“Definitely. Clothes on you is a crime.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

He’s nodding along with the nonsense she keeps spewing by default. She rambles about how she supposes he can wear socks in winter, but maybe if he always stays indoors with her, there would be no need for clothes. All the while, he nibbles down her neck before getting distracted by a freckle near her left nipple.

“Are you still wet for me, sweetheart?”

Vivian’s fairly certainly that she’s wetter than she’s ever been. It’ll be a miracle if she isn’t soaking his sheets.

“That depends. If I say yes, what are you going to do about it?”

Julian groans into her chest, the rumbling air tickling her sensitive skin.

“Sugar, I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

Wait for what? Vivian doesn’t know what they’re waiting for, but if he doesn’t want to wait, then neither does she.

Julian pulls back from her breast, hazel eyes shining down at her before his gaze drops to her lap where he’s watching . . .

Vivian jolts at the sudden warm flesh swiping at her clit and she sits up to follow his gaze down, down, down. He’s tapping the head of his cock against her clit. A staccato beat of liquid heat.

There’s something about it. Something about the way their skin slides and catches and the way he can’t seem to pull his eyes away from the sight. Vivian’s letting out a soft moan before she can help herself.

“In me, in me, in me. Please, Julian.”

With those soft taps and his molten gaze, he’s reduced her to a begging mess. Again.

“Fuck, okay. Hang on, Sugar Plum.”

And then he pulls away, tearing open the foil packet and sliding a condom on at a speed that almost looks painful.

Vivian waffles briefly, wondering if she should remain upright or lie back down. Right when she’s decided to lie down but hasn’t figured out how to do so gracefully without flopping awkwardly, Julian kisses her. The distraction is immediate and all-encompassing.

Julian notches himself, and when he slides in, they both sigh.

Between the pressure, the heat, the sensations, and Julian , Vivian finds herself wholly overwhelmed. Then he thrusts, a rhythmic, rolling motion that rocks their bodies together. Vivian moans into his mouth, a desperate noise that he sucks down wholeheartedly. She’s so wet that there’s no resistance as he continues to thrust into her, their skin sliding together and apart when she bucks up to meet his hips. Julian and his stupidly perfect cock fill her perfectly. He’s slightly larger than her last partner, but the stretch feels exquisite. As though stretching her is merely another way of pushing her to be more .

It’s good. It’s really fucking good. Apparently, that’s still not enough for Julian-fucking-King and his impossible standards.

“What do you need, Sugar? Tell me what you need,” he croons, face buried in her hair.

She hums a nonsensical acknowledgment but fails to form words.

“Viv, fuck. I can’t last with you. And I want you to come for me one more time.”

After two orgasms and the electrifying experience of being his sole focus, there’s nothing that she truly needs, but if he’s asking, there are plenty of things that she wants.

“Rub my clit. Please,” she gasps, breathless and desperate.

Vivian isn’t new to sex. She isn’t a blushing virgin or an inexperienced child. Between her on-and-off high school boyfriend, Marcus, her relationship with Kyla when she first moved to the city, and a handful of one-night stands, she’s had sex before. Some of it was even good sex. Some of it was even really good .

It all still pales in comparison to the obsessive tenacity that Julian levels her way. As an instructor, he’s always been critical and intense. Always pushing her limits and boundaries, molding her to be stronger, sharper, braver.

Here and now, rocking his hips into hers as he flicks her clit just shy of too hard, that intensity hasn’t waned in the slightest. It’s heady and consuming, and Vivian has undoubtedly never had sex like this . He assesses her with careful, studying eyes that she knows are cataloging her every preference. He touches her with rough possession, grip sure and certain.

Three more sharp flicks to her clit and Vivian comes again, twitching and moaning under Julian.

With a handful more of those rolling undulations, Julian’s chanting into her neck, breath hot and damp.

“Viv. Viv. Fuck, Sugar.”

When the shudders and twitches have subsided, he pulls out, disposing of the condom with a sleight of hand that would be comical if she wasn’t out of breath. He’s herded her into the bathroom for a quick cleanup and then back into his bed—properly in it this time—before she has time to protest at the indignity. He arranges her on the bed, curled on her side in a mountain of pillows before spooning her tightly.

She laughs at his assumed impropriety. “Guess I’m definitely staying the night then?”

“I didn’t have you pack that bag for nothing.”

“I have a meeting with—” He’s quick to wrap a warm palm over her mouth, silencing her protest.

“I know. I’ll drive you in the morning. Now go to sleep before I change my mind and keep you up all night.”

Liquid heat runs through Vivian’s stomach, stronger than a shot of liquor on an empty stomach. He’s intoxicating.

She squirms slightly against him, acutely aware of how empty she feels without him.

Julian sighs into her hair, blonde wisps tickling her neck from his breath. “What is it, Sugar Plum?”

She squirms again, their warm, naked bodies pressed too tightly for her to ignore the heat.

“I think I should put some clothes on.” But she doesn’t move—doesn’t pull from his embrace or make any effort to locate her overnight bag.

“Do you really want to get dressed?”

She doesn’t. She doesn’t want to get dressed. Doesn’t want to add layers of fabric or distance between them. But she feels crazy. Feels like she’s onstage in front of thousands. Feels like she’s riding the high of applause and adrenaline. Feels like she’s terrified that she’ll never ride this high again. She tries to hold still, barely daring to inhale for fear of wiggling around again and annoying him.

When she doesn’t reply, the hand on her hip tightens. “What is it, Viv?”

Awkwardly, stupidly, she blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

“I’m so empty.”

It might be the worst truth she’s ever admitted to him. The most vulnerable and bare she’s allowed herself to be.

But just the same as every other secret she’s spilled to him, Julian reacts in the impossible—perfect—way that only he can.

The hand on her hip slides over to her belly and then down until he’s sliding two warm fingers into her.

“Is that it, Sugar? You need something in your wet little pussy to go to sleep?”

She doesn’t. She’s never tried to sleep with something or some one inside of her.

“No. I—”

Julian shushes her, somehow both sweet and condescending. “Sleep, Viv.”

And somehow, with two of Julian’s fingers curled inside her, she does.