I leaned over her, my chest flush to her back, one arm holding my weight, while the other kept strumming her higher. "I've got you," I growled in her ear, fucking her harder now, my hips slapping against her ass, the wet sounds of our bodies joining mixing with her broken moans.
Vivienne came hard—her body locking around me, a choked sob of my name leaving her lips as her orgasm overtook her. She shook beneath me, her hands clutching the sheets, her body arching and trembling as I coaxed every last wave from her.
The sight of her like that—undone, trusting, radiant in her surrender—was too much.
I leaned back up and thrust into her harder and deeper with more leverage to extend her orgasm.
My release tore through me with violent intensity, my grip tightening as I buried myself deep and came with a strangled groan. I spilled into her in rhythmic pulses, the pleasure so sharp it nearly bordered on pain.
For a long moment, neither of us moved.
Then I eased out carefully, discarding the condom and returning to gather her close, my bare hand smoothing over the curve of her hip, up her side, around to cradle her face.
"You still okay?" I whispered.
Vivienne nodded, dazed and blissed out. "More than okay."
I kissed her temple, her cheek, her lips. Gentle now. Unhurried. Loving.
"I've never touched anyone like that," I confessed quietly, tracing her jaw with my thumb. "Never taken the gloves off. Not for... anyone."
Vivienne turned into my touch, kissed my palm. "Then I'll keep it safe for you. Always."
And in the silence that followed, I realized I wasn't just falling for her.
I already had.
18
Vivienne
I woke slowly, awareness filtering through layers of contentment. The first thing I noticed was the warmth at my back and the unfamiliar weight across my waist—Julian's arm, holding me securely against his chest. The second was the sensation of bare skin against my breast, no barrier of leather between us.
He'd kept his gloves off all night.
The memory of the evening before came flooding back—his confession about his father, the trust he'd shown me by sharing something so deeply personal, the way he'd touched me with his bare hands like it was the most precious gift he could offer.
I shifted slightly, careful not to wake him, and looked over my shoulder at Julian's sleeping face. In sleep, the careful control he usually maintained had melted away, leaving him looking younger, more vulnerable. His dark hair was mussed, his breathing deep and even, and his bare hand gripped my breast possessively.
I felt a rush of tenderness so intense it almost brought tears to my eyes. This man had trusted me with his darkest secrets, had literally and figuratively stripped away his gloved secrets for me. The magnitude of that gift wasn't lost on me.
Julian stirred behind me, his arm tightening around me as consciousness returned. When his eyes opened and focused on my face, his smile was soft and genuine.
"Good morning," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.
"Good morning," I replied, turning in his arms to face him properly. "How did you sleep?"
"Better than I have in years," Julian said honestly, his bare hand coming up to trace the line of my cheek. "You?"
"Perfectly." I caught his hand in mine, studying the long fingers, the calluses from his work, the way his skin looked pale and vulnerable without its usual leather covering. I kissed his index fingertip, "Thank you for trusting me last night. With everything."
Julian's expression grew serious. "Thank you for listening. For not running."
"I'm not going anywhere," I said firmly, echoing my words from the night before. "Whatever this brings, we'll handle it together."
Julian leaned down to kiss me, soft and sweet, a morning greeting that tasted of possibility and promise. When we broke apart, I glanced at the clock on my nightstand and was relieved to see it was only six a.m. I had plenty of time to get ready for school, maybe even time for a proper breakfast with Julian.
"I should probably start getting ready," I said reluctantly. "But we have time for coffee if you want."
