12. Julian
12
JULIAN
I watch Ivy from my study doorway as she curls up on the leather sofa with a book, her bare feet tucked beneath her. The late afternoon sun catches those burgundy highlights in her hair, creating a halo effect that makes my chest tighten. She's only been here three days, but the thought of her leaving makes my hands clench.
The tiny silver bells rest in my pocket, attached to a delicate anklet I had custom made. The metal warms against my skin as I approach her.
"I have something for you." I settle beside her on the couch.
She marks her place with a finger. "Another gift? Julian, you don't have to-"
"I want to." I pull out the anklet, letting the silver chain pool in my palm. The three tiny bells catch the light. "Give me your ankle."
Her eyes widen as she extends her leg. The delicate arch of her foot, the gentle curve of her ankle - everything about her is perfect. I wrap the chain around her skin, my fingers lingering longer than necessary as I secure the clasp.
A soft chime breaks the silence as she moves her foot experimentally. It's like little sleigh bells. "It's beautiful."
"Now I'll always know where you are." The possessive words slip out before I can stop them.
But she just smiles, the sound of bells following her movement as she shifts closer. "You're not worried I'll sneak away, are you?"
"I'd never let you." My voice drops lower.
"I'd never want to," she whispers, her eyes drifting up to mine. It soothes something in my chest, and I think she knows it. She's been saying things like that more and more.
The bells tinkle as she stretches her legs across my lap, the sound both soothing and maddening. Like a cat with a bell collar, but this is different. This is marking her as mine.
She wiggles her toes, creating a gentle symphony. "I kind of like it. Makes me feel like a fairy."
I trace the arch of her foot, feeling her shiver. "A fairy I've caught and don't intend to release."
The bells chime with her laughter, and something primitive in me purrs with satisfaction. Every step, every movement - I'll know exactly where my Ivy is. The sound is already becoming an addiction.
I leave her curled up on the couch, the soft chiming of bells following her slight movements. My study beckons - work doesn't stop just because I've found something more interesting to occupy my attention.
Three back-to-back video calls drain my energy. There are contracts I need to fulfill, people I need to hunt down and take care of. It's my job after all to fix the problems for the rich people who own Chicago - though the violent urges that drove me to become a fixer have lessened with Ivy. I loosen my tie, jaw clenched as I stare at the spreadsheets covering my monitors.
The gentle sound of bells approaches my study door. I look up to see her standing in the doorway.
"Julian?" Ivy tilts her head as she studies me. "Everything okay? I heard raised voices."
I push back from my desk, running a hand through my hair. "Come here."
She steps inside, the bells singing with each movement. The sound helps unknot some of the tension in my shoulders. Her concerned expression as she approaches my desk does even more.
"You look stressed." She rounds my desk, coming to stand beside my chair.
I turn to face her, loosening my tie further. "Nothing I can't handle. Though you could make it better."
"Oh?" She tilts her head, the motion creating another chime from her anklet. "How's that?"
I reach out, gripping her hip to pull her closer. "I can think of a few ways."
Standing, I lead Ivy into a spare room I've converted into a play space. It's bare, save for a plush black rug and a few key pieces of furniture. She looks around, curiosity shining in those amber-brown eyes, and I feel the tension starting to bleed out of me already.
"What are we doing here, Julian?"
I circle her, my voice steady and commanding. "Teaching you proper submission, Ivy."
She shivers, her breath hitching slightly. I can see the pulse in her neck quicken. "Submission?"
"Yes," I confirm, stopping in front of her. "There are rules, positions. Ways to please me. I want you to learn them."
She bites her lip, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "And what happens if I don't follow them?"
I lean in, my breath whispering against her ear. "Oh, sweet girl. You already know that obedience means punishment."
Her eyes brighten as she bites down on her bottom lip, looking almost excited, but she nods, understanding. Good. I step back, beginning the lesson.
I teach her different ways to please me, different things I expect from her. How if she's wronged me, I want her bent over and expecting punishment, asking for it. How to kneel before me when she wants to please me.
The next hour continues like this, a dance of command and obedience, praise and denial. She learns quickly, her body responding to my commands like a well-tuned instrument. Each time she obeys, I praise her, the words falling from my lips like honey. Each time she disobeys, I step back, denying her the touch she craves.
By the end of it, she's a panting, writhing mess on the rug, her body trembling with need. But she's learned. She's learned to submit, to obey, to offer herself to me completely. And in doing so, she's given me a power no one else ever has.
I stand over her, watching her chest rise and fall with each ragged breath. "You've done well, Ivy," I praise, my voice soft. "Very well."
Her eyes meet mine, a small smile playing at her lips. "Thank you, Julian."
I nod, satisfaction coursing through me. And then I reward her for listening so well.
The dig of the elevator signals Xander's arrival. The familiar cadence of his footsteps approaches, already making his way to the study like he knows he should.
"Morning, boss." Xander drops into one of the leather chairs across from my desk, loosening his tie. "Got those reports you wanted."
The soft tinkle of bells catches my attention before Ivy appears in the doorway. My breath catches at the sight of her in a cream silk negligee that falls mid-thigh, covered by a matching robe that trails behind her. The fabric clings to her curves while still leaving enough to the imagination that I don't have to kill Xander
She carries a silver tray with scotch and crystal glasses, her movements graceful as the bells at her ankle chime with each step.
"Good morning, Xander." She sets the tray on my desk, bending to pour the drinks.
Xander's eyebrows raise slightly at her attire, but he keeps his eyes respectfully averted. Smart man.
I reach out, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her onto my lap. She settles against me naturally, like she belongs there. The silk of her robe slides beneath my palm as I stroke her hip.
"The Morgan situation?" I ask Xander, accepting the glass Ivy hands me. My other hand remains possessively curved around her waist.
"Handled." Xander takes a sip of his scotch. "Though there were some... complications."
As he details the operation, I feel Ivy relax against my chest, her head coming to rest on my shoulder. The gentle weight of her, the soft chime of bells when she shifts - it centers me. Grounds me.
My thumb traces idle patterns on her hip as Xander continues his report. When she shivers slightly, I pull her closer, enjoying how perfectly she fits against me.
The bells sing again as she crosses her legs, the movement drawing Xander's gaze for a split second before he quickly looks away. My grip tightens instinctively.
"Cold?" I murmur against her hair.
She shakes her head, settling more firmly against me. "No. I'm perfect right here."
"That'll be all for now." I cut Xander off mid-sentence, my attention already shifting to the woman in my lap. "We'll finish this later."
Xander knows better than to argue. Instead, he gives me that knowing smirk of his and he sets down his glass and rises smoothly from the chair. I'm never going to hear the end of it now that he knows Ivy is here. "Of course. I'll have those other documents to you by evening."
The door clicks shut behind him, and I turn Ivy to face me fully, her legs straddling mine. The bells at her ankle chime with the movement.
"You are such a good girl," I murmur, brushing her hair back from her face. "So perfect, bringing us drinks, taking care of everything."
Her smile - bright and genuine - hits me like a physical force. Those amber eyes light up, crinkling at the corners in a way that makes my chest tight. How did no one see this before? How did they miss the way she glows from within, the grace in her movements, the sharp intelligence behind those eyes?
"I like taking care of you." She traces her fingers along my jaw, and I lean into her touch.
"Good." The word comes out harder than intended. "It's where you belong. Right here with me."
I cup her face in my hands, studying the delicate features I've come to know by heart. The high sweep of her cheekbones, the subtle curve of her lips, the depth in those eyes that seems to see right through me. Every piece of her is precious, valuable beyond measure.
"Their loss." I brush my thumb across her lower lip. "My gain."
She smiles again, and this time it's shy, almost wondering. Like she still can't quite believe someone sees her worth. I intend to spend however long it takes showing her exactly how precious she is.
The bells chime softly as she shifts closer, wrapping her arms around my neck. I hold her tighter, breathing in the vanilla scent of her hair, memorizing this moment.