Page 126 of Beautiful When He Breaks

When he reaches for the lube and condom in his nightstand, my nerves flare hard enough that I go quiet.

Julian notices before the silence can become a wall. He sits back on his heels and doesn’t open anything yet. “Talk to me.”

My face burns because everything in me feels exposed now, not only physically. “I’m nervous again.”

“About touching me?” he asks softly.

I nod. “And about doing it wrong,” I admit. “And about hurting you. And about, I don’t know, being too in my head and ruining it.”

Julian’s hand closes gently over mine. “You’re not going to ruin this by being nervous.”

“You say that like you know.”

“I do know.” He brings my hand to his mouth and kisses my palm again, which is such an unfair move that I almost forget my own anxiety. “I’ll guide you, baby.”

The word baby shouldn’t still hit me that hard after how many times he’s said it, but it does. It gives me something to move toward. I shift with him when he lies back, propped against the pillows, and my heart starts pounding so hard I’m sure he can see it. He keeps his voice low even as he puts lube into my hand, then closes his fingers over mine briefly.

“Slowly,” Julian says, watching me. “Don’t force anything and let me relax around you. If I tell you more, you can give me more. If I tell you to wait, you wait.”

My breathing has gone shallow. “Okay.”

“And Eli?” I look up, and his mouth curves slightly. “You’re allowed to enjoy this part.”

My face heats so badly I almost groan, and Julian laughs, but the laugh turns into a shaky exhale when I run my lubed fingers over his rim.

I watch his face carefully, noting the way his lips part, the slight furrow in his brow as I slowly press a single finger inside. His muscles tense briefly before he exhales, his head tipping back against the pillow.

“That okay?” I ask, my voice quieter than I mean for it to be.

He nods, his hand sliding down to grip my wrist lightly, his eyes fluttering open to meet mine. “Yeah. Just... keep going. Nice and slow.”

I do as he says, moving my finger gently, the tight heat of him making my pulse hammer. He bites his lip, a soft sound escaping him as I twist my hand slightly, watching every little movement, every shift in his expression.

“Good,” he whispers, his voice strained but steady. “Now curl it—yeah, like that. Add another, please.”

Slowly, I add a second finger, working them in together. His body arches slightly, a soft moan escaping his lips. The sound sends a surge of heat through me, and I lean down, pressing a kiss to his thigh.

I scissor my fingers gently, and the little sounds he makes—the soft, breathy moans, the way my name slips from his lips like a prayer—have my cock throbbing.

His body rolls into the motion of my fingers as I stretch him, coaxing soft moans and sighs from his lips. His hand tightens on mine, and his other grips the sheets beneath him.

His reactions give me enough courage to move the way he showed me again, and this time something changes in his face. His breath catches hard, his head tipping back against the pillow, throat exposed, tattoos shifting with the sudden arch of his body. I freeze because that reaction is bigger than the others, but Julian’s grip on my hand tightens immediately.

“Don’t stop,” he says, voice strained. “There. Baby, right there.”

It feeds something in me I didn’t know needed feeding. I keep my fingers careful, adding a third one and still listening to every breath, but then I let my tongue trace the length of his cock and suck him into my mouth.

“Fuck! Eli!” he moans, moving his hips. “Shit… come here—I need you inside me right fucking now.”

“You sure?” I ask, my voice rougher now, strained with how badly I want him. “You taste so good, I don’t wanna stop.”

“Jesus fuck,” he groans when I lick him from his balls to the tip of his cock. “We can do more of that another time. I want you inside right fucking now, but go slow, though, okay? You’re not exactly packing light down there.”

I can’t help but chuckle as I let him show me how to roll on the condom properly since my hands are both eager and incompetent. Julian—patient saint and smug bastard that he is—talks me through that too with only one deeply amused look when I nearly curse the packaging into submission.

When he shifts under me and guides me between his thighs, the whole world slows down. I am suddenly aware of every point of contact. My knees on the mattress, his hands on my hips, the condom, the impossible intimacy of lining up with his body while he watches me, trusting me, wanting me, giving me instructions even now because he promised he would.

“Slowly,” he says again. I nod, but my throat has closed around every word I might’ve had. He squeezes my hip. “Breathe, Eli.”