Chapter 29
Elara
I rolled my hips in slow, thick circles—lazy at first, indulging in the friction as his dick stretched me.
I was taking my time; we had all night. Julian’s chest gleamed with sweat under my palms, rising and falling in jagged rhythms as if he couldn’t catch his breath.
His eyes were locked on where we were connected, watching the gates of heaven open just for him.
He moaned, deep and guttural, the sound crawling down my spine and settling between my thighs. I leaned down until my lips hovered over his—close enough to feel the tremble in his breath, close enough to remind him who was in control, but not kissing him.
"You like this, don’t you, Julian?" I whispered, my voice low and laced with quiet certainty. "You like when I ride you like this. When I decide how you get to cum."
He didn’t—he usually liked to be fucked hard—but he wouldn't say differently now.
His head dropped back, jaw tight, breath jagged. “Fuck yes,” he rasped, his voice wrecked. “I love it. I love how you ride me, Elara. I love when you make me feel good.”
I smiled, slow and wicked. That’s right. He was already half gone, and I was just getting started.
I picked up the pace, grinding down harder, riding him like I owned him—and I did. Every inch of him was mine right now. My pussy gripped him tight, milking him, pulling him deeper. I felt it when his control slipped, when his hands dug into my hips as if he didn’t know whether to hold on or beg.
"Fuck, Elara," he gasped, eyes rolling, neck strained. “I’m close.”
Good.
I bent lower, kissed the column of his throat, and then let my fingers curl around it—not with force, but with intent. "You gonna give it to me?" I whispered, my voice like silk and sin. "Gonna cum for me, Julian? Be a good boy and let go?"
He bucked beneath me, his cock thick and twitching. I felt him trying to hold it back. I squeezed tighter. “Don’t make me tell you twice.”
He groaned—a loud, deep sound, his body tensing under me like a bow pulled too tight. “I’m gonna cum,” he gritted. “I’m gonna fucking cum—”
“That’s right,” I purred, slamming my hips down harder, my thighs burning from the rhythm and the power. “Let go. Cum for me. Fill this pussy up.”
And he did.
With a growl so deep it sounded like it came from his soul, he spilled into me, his whole body shuddering as he came hard. I didn’t stop. I kept grinding, slow now, riding the wave with him, making sure I took all of it. Every drop. Every moan. Every tremble.
Tears slid down his face. A smirk curved my lips. I loved seeing his orgasm change him from the untouchable Hale heir to a man who came apart just because I told him to. There was something powerful about breaking a man like him.
He saw the smirk, his watery gaze fixed on my mouth. “Don’t you dare say a word,” he mumbled as his eyes fluttered. His chest heaved.
I stared down at him, still rolling my hips like his body was my throne. “I wasn’t going to,” I said lightly. “You said it all with your tears, pretty boy.”
That did it.
His hands gripped my waist—firm and fast—and in a single motion, he lifted me. My breath caught as the air shifted. One second I was straddling him, still pulsing around him; the next, I was flipped—smooth, seamless—my chest pressed into the mattress, legs parted beneath the weight of his body.
My palms flattened against the sheets, heart kicking up. My natural reaction was fear, but it only made me wetter.
"Julian—"
“Be quiet.”
That voice. The shift was fast enough to cause whiplash. He’d gone from trembling to dangerous in the space of a heartbeat. He leaned over me, his voice brushing the shell of my ear.
“Shh,” he cooed. The boy who begged had been replaced by the man who took.
His palm found the small of my back and held me there. Not cruelly, just enough. His hand skimmed down, gripped my hips, and angled me just right.
“I let you have your fun,” he said softly, almost kindly. “Now it’s my turn.”
Heat crawled across my skin.
“Thought you were cute, huh?” he crooned behind me. “Mocking me, soaking the fuck out of me...”
Crack.
The sound of his palm hitting my ass was sharp in the quiet room. The sting was immediate and electric, a bloom of heat that made me moan before I could bite it back.
“You won’t be laughing in a second.”
I tried to turn my head to watch him as he slid his dick behind my slick folds. I could feel his cum dripping down my thighs, and he was still hard. I bet he was biting his swollen bottom lip, but he pressed harder, keeping me still.
“You like to smirk while I fall apart,” he whispered, his mouth brushing my ear. “Then I want to see what you look like when I fuck you without mercy.”
He slammed his dick into me. The force drove the breath from my lungs, my body arching instinctively to meet him. If I wasn’t so wet, he probably would have ripped something. But just like that, the world narrowed to his hands, his voice, and his heat.
He didn't give me a second to find my rhythm; he just began to move—hard, deep, and relentless—reminding me who was in control and exactly where I belonged.
Underneath him. With him. Forever.