19. Julian
19
JULIAN
I lay the dress across my bed - emerald silk that catches the light like liquid jewels. Next to it, the diamond collar gleams, each stone hand-selected. The juxtaposition of delicate fabric against that possessive band of diamonds makes my blood run hot. Especially knowing the tracker that lies among the stones.
"Put it on." I hand Ivy the dress, watching as she takes it with reverent fingers.
The silk whispers against her skin as she slips it on. The cut is deliberate - high neck in the front, plunging to her lower back, the fabric clinging to every curve before falling to the floor. I step behind her, reaching for the zipper.
"Hold still." My knuckles brush up her spine as I fasten the dress. She shivers, and I fight the urge to trace that reaction further.
I lift the collar, the diamonds cold against my palms. "This stays on all night." The words come out rough as I fasten it around her throat. The stones nest perfectly in the hollow between her collarbones, marking her as mine.
Her fingers drift up to touch it. "It's beautiful."
"It's a warning." I turn her to face the mirror, standing behind her. My hands span her waist. "Everyone at this party will know exactly what it means. Who you belong to." And I won't have to worry about losing her.
The men we will be around here tonight are dangerous. I'm not taking any fucking chances.
The green silk makes her skin glow, amber eyes bright against the dark sweep of her lashes. That collar, though - that's what transforms her. Not just jewelry, but a claim. A brand. Every man will see it and know she's untouchable.
"The party starts in an hour." I press my lips to her neck, just above the diamonds. "And you look perfect."
Her reflection meets my eyes in the mirror, that familiar spark of defiance mixing with something darker. Something that matches the hunger I feel whenever I look at her.
"Ready to show me off?" Her voice carries a hint of challenge.
My grip tightens on her waist. "Ready to show everyone that you're mine."
An hour later, I guide Ivy through the rooftop entrance of Chateau Carbide, my hand firm against her lower back. The Chicago skyline stretches before us, city lights twinkling against the velvet darkness. Glass walls rise from marble floors, creating an illusion of floating above the city.
"Julian." Marcus Chen approaches, drink in hand. His eyes catch on the diamond collar. "Quite the statement piece."
"Isn't it?" I slide my hand to Ivy's waist, pulling her closer. "She planned everything tonight."
"The caviar selection is exquisite." Marcus raises his champagne flute. "Osetra gold, if I'm not mistaken?"
"With mother of pearl spoons." Ivy's voice carries that professional pride I've come to appreciate. "The champagne is Krug."
I lead her past the seafood tower where ice-fresh oysters glisten on beds of crushed ice. The lobster bites catch the light, their gold leaf garnish matching the opulent surroundings. Every detail screams luxury - exactly what I demanded.
"Mr. Kane." Rodriguez, one of my more lucrative clients, intercepts us. "That situation in Milwaukee..."
"We'll discuss business later." I cut him off. He looks confused, clearly used to men dismissing their women in his presence, to being put first. But I only put one woman first, the one that I steer towards the carving station where the prime rib bleeds perfectly pink.
The room pulses with power. Every man here either works for me or owes me. They watch us circle the room, their eyes tracking the diamonds at Ivy's throat while she makes sure that everything is perfectly in place. Some gazes linger too long. I tighten my grip.
"The chocolate soufflés will be ready in twenty." Ivy checks her watch, ever the consummate planner.
"Let them wait." I brush my lips against her ear. "I want everyone to see exactly what I've acquired."
She shivers against me as we pass the dessert display, individual crème br?lées waiting to be torched, berries glistening like jewels. But it's not the food drawing attention - it's her. My perfect possession, marked and claimed, orchestrating this display of wealth and influence with flawless precision.
But then I notice Thompson's gaze lingering on Ivy's bare back, his eyes traveling down the emerald silk like oil. His champagne glass tilts, forgotten, as she bends to adjust a place setting.
"Excuse me." I brush my lips against Ivy's ear. "Business to attend to."
I cross the marble floor in measured steps, coming up behind Thompson. My hand clamps onto his shoulder, fingers digging into pressure points.
"Enjoying the view?" I keep my voice low, meant for him alone. "Look at her again and I'll have your eyes carved out with that mother of pearl spoon she selected."
He jerks, champagne sloshing. "Mr. Kane, I didn't-"
"Three seconds. Look anywhere else." The pressure increases. "One."
Thompson's head snaps toward the window. Sweat beads on his temple.
I pat him on the side of the face. Hard. Pink blooms on his cheek, and I step closer, my body pulsing with anger. "Don't let me catch you looking again."
I return to Ivy, who's watching the exchange with those clever amber eyes. She fits herself against my side, her warmth seeping through the Italian wool.
"Everything okay?" Her fingers curl into my jacket.
"Perfect." I scan the room, marking who's watching. Rodriguez averts his gaze. Chen suddenly finds his cufflinks fascinating. "Just reminding everyone of proper etiquette."
She presses closer as we pass the string quartet, the diamonds at her throat catching fire under the chandeliers. The room ripples with tension - these men who fancy themselves powerful, brought low by a single look. Their fear feeds something primal in my chest.
"They're terrified of you." Ivy's whisper carries a note of awe.
"Good." I know they are. They all know that with one word, I could kill them. Or perhaps I'd do it just because I felt like it. "Fear keeps order. Keeps you safe."
Her hand tightens on my arm as Harrison's son starts to turn our way, then thinks better of it. Smart boy. He's seen what happens to those who don't learn quickly enough.
Wanting her to myself, I guide Ivy from the rooftop as we finish our round, down a dim corridor, away from the noise and crystalline laughter. I find a storage room and tug her inside. I shut and lock the door behind us, sealing us in the tiny space.
"Time for your advent calendar activity." I draw a length of crimson ribbon from my pocket, the silk cool against my fingers. I wonder if she remembers what promise awaits her. I'll make sure everyone knows you are mine. "You know what to do."
Ivy's lips part, her pulse visible above that diamond collar. She turns, presenting her back to me - trust wrapped in emerald silk. We've played with blindfolds and bindings so this part doesn't surprise her. The ribbon slides over her eyes, a slash of red against her dark hair. I secure it with practiced ease, my knuckles brushing her temples.
"Too tight?"
"Perfect." Her voice carries that slight tremor I've come to crave.
I turn her to face me, drinking in the sight - blindfolded, wrapped in silk, wearing my diamonds. Mine. The possessive thought burns through my blood as I capture her mouth. She tastes of champagne and surrender, her hands finding purchase on my lapels.
I deepen the kiss, one hand sliding into her hair while the other traces the diamonds at her throat. She makes a small sound against my lips - need wrapped in silk. The kiss turns harder, darker, matching the hunger that's been building since I first saw her in that dress.
I spin her so that her back meets the door separating us from being caught. I break the kiss to trace the line of her jaw, following it to where her pulse meets diamond. Her breath catches as my teeth graze her skin.
"Julian..." My name falls from her lips like a prayer.
I silence her with another kiss, swallowing whatever words might have followed. The ribbon ensures she can't see, but I know she feels - my hands mapping her curves through silk, the press of Italian wool against her body, the way the diamonds shift with each gasping breath.
Ivy's breath hitches as I trail kisses down her neck, her pulse quickening under my lips. The sounds of the party seep through the cracked door - laughter, clinking glasses, the distant hum of conversation. But in here, it's just us.
Her hands grip my shoulders, her breath coming faster now. The blindfold adds a layer of trust, of surrender. I can see everything - the rise and fall of her chest, the way her lips part, the sharp intake of breath as my hands slide down her sides, catching the silk of her dress and pulling it up, inch by inch.
"Julian..." Her whisper is barely audible, a mix of anticipation and nerves.
"Shh." I brush my lips against hers, silencing her. The dress bunches at her waist, exposing long, smooth legs. I trace the lace edge of her panties, feeling her shiver under my touch. "You trust me?"
She nods, a small jerk of her head. I hook my fingers into the lace, tugging them down. Her breath catches as I trail kisses down her stomach, my hands gripping her hips. I can feel her tension, her excitement. She's never done anything like this before. The thrill of the unknown, the risk of being caught - it's intoxicating.
I kneel before her, my hands sliding up her thighs, spreading them apart. Her scent envelops me, sweet and heady. I press a kiss to her inner thigh, feeling her tremble. Her hands find my hair, fingers curling, holding on.
"You want this, Ivy?" My voice is low, rough. I look up at her, blindfolded and breathing hard. She's a vision - emerald silk and diamonds, lips parted, chest heaving.
"Yes." The word is a gasp, a plea.
I don't make her wait any longer. I lean in, my tongue tracing her folds, tasting her. She's sweet, like vanilla and something darker, something mine. Her grip on my hair tightens, her hips jerking as I find her clit, circling it with my tongue.
Her breaths come in short, sharp gasps now, her body trembling. I slide a finger into her, feeling her tightness, her heat. She's close, her body coiling like a spring.
It seems my docile girl does like exhibitionism after all, which I expected after the way I saw she loves being prioritized. She probably likes the idea of everyone knowing she is so thoroughly owned.
I add another finger, curling them, hitting that spot that makes her bite her lip to keep from crying out. Her walls clench around my fingers, and I groan against her pussy.
"Julian... I can't..." She's panting, her body shaking.
"You can." I growl against her, the vibrations making her moan. "Come for me, Ivy. Let me taste you."
I suck her clit into my mouth, my fingers thrusting into her, hard and fast. Her body convulses, her scream caught in her throat. I feel her coming, her inner muscles clamping down on my fingers, her taste flooding my mouth.
But she's loud, too loud. I reach up with my free hand, thrusting my fingers into her mouth. Her screams are muffled, her teeth sinking into my skin as she rides out her orgasm. I can feel her pulsing around my fingers, her taste on my tongue, her scent in my lungs.
It's intense, raw, perfect. She's never been more beautiful than in this moment, blindfolded and coming apart, trusting me completely. I slow my movements, bringing her down gently. Her body is limp, her breaths coming in soft pants.
I slide my fingers out of her, biting down on her inner thigh. She whimpers as I leave my mark, and I lick against it.
I suck my fingers clean and rise, my body caging hers against the door. Her hands find my shoulders, her breath warm on my lips.
"Julian..." My name is a sigh on her lips, a secret shared between us.
I capture her mouth in a deep kiss, letting her taste herself on my tongue. Her hands slide into my hair, pulling me closer. She's mine, completely and utterly mine. And I'm not letting her go.
But the sounds of the party are getting louder, people passing by the door. It's time to rejoin the world, to remind everyone out there who she belongs to. I break the kiss, my hands going to the blindfold.
"Ready to face them again?" I murmur, my lips brushing her ear.
She nods, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Ready."