Page 113 of Secret Heir For The Billionaire Twin

I reach for the glass.

He doesn’t release it.

My fingers close around the stem beneath his hand.

Julian brings the glass slowly toward me.

“Closer.”

My pulse jumps.

I lean in and breathe in the wine, dark fruit and something warmer beneath it. Julian watches my face instead of the glass.

“Well?” he asks.

“It smells good.”

“That’s very technical.”

“I’m off duty.”

“Apparently.”

His voice is lower now. I look up, and can see that we are standing close enough that I can feel the warmth of him through the narrow space between our bodies. His shirt sleeves are still rolled back from dinner, exposing his forearms, and my attention catches briefly on the strength of his hand around the glass before returning to his face.

“Taste it,” Julian says.

I wrap my hand more securely around his and guide the glass toward my mouth. His gaze drops to my lips. I take a slow sip. The wine is rich and smooth, but I barely register the flavor because Julian’s attention has become impossible to ignore.

I swallow.

“How is it?” he asks.

“Better than the first bottle.”

“That’s insulting.”

“You asked.”

I take another sip without releasing his hand. When I lower the glass, Julian steps closer. My breathing changes. His eyes move over my face, settling briefly on my mouth before returning to mine. Neither of us speaks. Then Julian leans in.

The kiss begins slowly, his mouth brushing mine once as though he is testing the decision before making it. I taste wine on his lips, warm and faintly sharp, and when I kiss him back, the restraint between us collapses almost immediately.

His free hand closes around my waist and pulls me against him. I can feel his hard cock bulging as he presses himself into me. I grip his shirt, the glass forgotten between us until Julian takes it from my hand and sets it blindly on the table.

Then both of his hands are on me as the kiss deepens, harder now, his mouth demanding as I slide my arms around his neck. My body presses into his, every nerve alive beneath the thin fabric of my dress.

Julian breaks the kiss just long enough to look at me. His breathing is uneven. So is mine.

“Tell me to stop,” he says.

I stare at him.

“I don’t want you to.”

Something changes in his expression. He kisses me again. This time there is no caution left in it. When he pulls back again, his forehead rests briefly against mine.

I feel the warm sensation of his touch travel from my chest to my throat to the dull ache pulsing between my legs. There’s no mistaking the way he’s looking at me now—like he’s ready to devour me.