Chapter 20
20
HONOR
PRESENT
W hen I wake up on February fourteenth, the very first thing I see makes me smile.
There’s a cheap, cheesy stuffed bear sitting on the otherwise empty pillow beside mine, and I reach out to take it. Rolling over, I hold it up to take in the finer details of the gift. A small, stuffed satin heart is sewn between the animal’s fuzzy paws, embroidered with the words “ You’re Beary Cute ”.
He remembered.
The muscles in my cheeks ache as I sit up. Looking around the room, I see Julian—who can’t seem to help himself but be the best at literally everything—didn’t stop there. Sitting on the long, glossy cabinet across from the bed, three bouquets of long stem red roses are arranged along with several boxes of chocolates and a card.
Totally naked, I crawl to the end of the bed and stand, heart fluttering like a trapped bird inside my chest as I pick up the crisp, folded paper decorated with dozens of different watercolor hearts.
Honor,
First, you should be aware that this is the sixth version of this card to exist. Whenever I’ve stolen a moment over the past few days, trying to put down a few words to adequately describe what you mean to me, I’ve come up short again and again. Or, when I was satisfied, you would walk into the room and smile at me.
If I’d known you existed, if I’d known it was possible to feel this way or that I’d someday need to write a Valentine’s Day card like this one, I might have paid more attention in English class. I didn’t, though. Instead, I troubled myself with building big, valuable things that did nothing to prepare me for what it is to find someone I want to build something even bigger and more valuable with.
Sitting here, staring down at this sixth goddamn attempt that still isn’t good enough for you, I’m coming to the reluctant realization it never will be, and that expressing my feelings on paper is not something I excel at. What I am good at is keeping my word. So, in the spirit of brevity and knowing I’ll likely be standing a room away, anxiously waiting for you to read this, I would like to promise you just four things.
1. You’ll never have to wonder if someone wants you, because I do.
2. You’ll never have to wonder if someone will be there to buy you flowers and chocolates and teddy bears holding hearts on Valentine’s Day, because I will.
3. You’ll never have to wonder if anyone is in love with you, because I am.
4. You’ll never have to wonder if you made the right choice in being mine, because I’ll prove that you have.
All my love,
Julian
As I read the last line and lift a shaking hand to my mouth, all I can do is stare down at the card. For a second time, I read the cramped letters taking up almost every free inch of the interior, growing smaller near the end as if he was worried about running out of room before he told me everything he needed to.
And I know, with absolute certainty, that this card is going to be in my life forever.
It will linger in a drawer, all but forgotten, because I’ll be so happy living the life it brought me to. I’ll stumble across it from time to time, and I’ll read it, my eyes burning with tears just like they are right now as I remember the first time. I’ll show it to Julian, who will hug me and kiss me and promise me it’s still all true, even if there is gray in my hair and lines on my face.
Someday, after we’re gone, our children or grandchildren will find it amongst our things, and they’ll have a tiny moment of comfort in knowing the love we had made us so much luckier than most.
It’s so fast, and while the logical, pragmatic part of me still can’t wrap her head around it, in my heart, I know that it doesn’t matter. Six minutes, six hours, six days, six months, six years… it really just doesn’t make any difference.
“Happy Valentine’s Day.”
I suck in a sharp breath, spinning to face Julian. He’s standing just inside the bedroom, hands shoved deep in his pockets, and he looks so guarded, so concerned his words were too much…
“Yes,” I blurt out, heart pounding and adrenaline rushing through my veins as it sets in what I’m about to do. There’s a lot I’m feeling right now—hope, sorrow, joy, and love, but not a single part of me is worried. I get it now.
Loving someone isn’t something that just happens to you. Falling for them, maybe, but really, truly loving them? That requires trust. It requires making a choice— the choice —and making it again, and again, and every single day for the rest of your life.
A choice I’ll be making, starting right now.
“Yes?” Julian echoes, some of the fear clearing from his handsome face. He takes a single, hesitant step toward me.
I nod, letting out a breathless laugh of joy and relief. “Yes. Yes to the job, to the gala, to being with you, all of it. ” He stares at me, his chest heaving as I continue. “One through four. I’m in, and I’m so sorry if I ever made you feel like it would be some kind of burden to be with you, because it’s not and?—”
My rambling is cut short by Julian lurching forward, closing the space between us in two long strides, and lifting me straight off my feet. I barely have time to squeal in surprise before he’s kissing me.
“God, Honor,” he hisses, teeth grazing my bottom lip as my legs wrap around his hips, sealing my naked body against his clothed one. “You want to be mine?”
“ Yes ,” I whisper without hesitation and let out a breathy moan as I feel his cock hardening against my bare pussy through the material of his pants. We spent half the night having sex, his cum is still sticky on my inner thighs, but already I feel myself getting wetter as our kisses turn desperate and hungry.
Julian turns us, and a laugh bursts from my lips as he lets me go, allowing me to sprawl onto the mattress beneath him. Towering above me, still fully dressed, Julian stares down at my naked body. His jaw tightens, and it occurs to me—somewhere deep in the back of my lust-riddled mind—that I don’t feel even a little bit self-conscious.
By now, this man has seen every inch of my body. His fingers have dug into the stretch marks on my hips, and he’s kissed the scar from when I had my appendix taken out. He brushed his lips over my thick thighs and ate my pussy until I had to beg him to stop. All the things I used to worry about when I was naked with someone, now just make me feel sexy and powerful.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Valentine,” I whimper as Julian leans forward over me, bracing one hand on the mattress as the other finds my pussy. Eyes boring into mine, he pushes two fingers through my slit, dragging the slick arousal welling at my entrance up to my clit and circling it teasingly. “I’m going to take care of this pussy, Honor. Just spread your legs, and I’ll make you feel better.”
I cry out weakly as he brushes featherlight circles over my clit, bucking into his touch. “You’re torturing me.”
His eyes glint, a dangerous smile curving his lips. “You trust me, don’t you? You trust me to give this greedy little cunt what it needs?”
My head bobs up and down automatically as I pant. “Julian, oh god !”
His fingers abandon my clit and move to my entrance, plunging inside me without warning. My pussy, which has definitely not recovered from its transition from born-again virgin to Julian Ballard’s personal fuck toy over the last few days, aches at the intrusion.
“Such a little slut, spreading your legs for me. This is my cunt now, isn’t it Honor?”
The flood of arousal over his fingers at the question makes my cheeks burn and Julian’s eyes darken. “Yes,” I breathe, squirming as he pushes his fingers apart inside me, stretching my inner walls.
My eyes flutter shut as I succumb to the sensations he’s pulling from my body in slow, methodical strokes, hearing his low words of praise and my own moans. I feel almost high, lost in pleasure and excitement for what’s to come.
His . I’m his now. And suddenly, all the tension I’ve been carrying since I walked into that airport in California—so confident I was leaving this man behind forever—is gone. I’m his, and everyone knows. I’m his, and I’m so relieved I could cry.
“Julian,” I whine, my body beginning to shake as he brings me closer and closer to the edge, “please don’t stop, please don’t stop .”
Even as I plead, I don’t expect it to work. If the last few days have taught me anything, it’s that there’s nothing he loves more than working out new ways to make me come harder.
Except, today, Julian seems to be just as desperate as I am. “Oh fuck,” he groans, sucking one of my nipples into his mouth before switching to the other side. “You’re so goddamn sexy. Soak my hand. Come on my fingers, Valentine.”
My scream echoes off the high ceilings of the hotel room. I should be embarrassed, knowing Julian’s security staff is hunkered down in the next suite and are probably getting an earful of what their boss is doing to me. I’m not.
My eyes flutter open as he pulls his fingers free from my pussy, and I feel my lips part in a silent moan as Julian brings them to his lips and licks away my cum. Neither of us says a single word as he moves off the bed and, standing over me, lets his hands drop to his belt and deftly work it open.
The air in the bedroom is charged, almost vibrating with what is building between us, and I hear myself whimper as his cock falls free, heavy and swollen with need. Julian reaches back to rip his T-shirt over his head.
“I love how you look naked,” I tell him in a ragged whisper as he grasps my hips, dragging me to the edge of the mattress. To the rest of the world, he probably looks like the polished, professional CEO. They don’t see him like this, with his hair mussed from my fingers, his broad chest, dusted with dark hair, heaving. When we’re together like this, Julian Ballard is feral, and it’s all because of me.
I might be his, but he’s mine too.
Julian smirks like he knows exactly what I’m thinking, and my core pulses as I see him reach for his cock, gripping it tightly. “I’m nowhere near as pretty as you, baby.”
“You are,” I insist, my pussy pulsing as he guides my legs to rest flat against his chest. Julian’s gaze burns right through me as he presses the head of his cock against my tender entrance, pulsing in and out, just barely. “You really a—” My sharp cry echoes the one I made a moment ago, half pain and half pleasure, as Julian sheaths his length inside me in a single thrust.
Instantly, his expression transforms with pleasure, and it fills me with a primal, hot satisfaction that it’s my body making him feel that way. “Does it feel good?” I pant, eager for his praise.
“Every time,” he rasps, kissing my ankle. “I want my cum leaking out of your pussy when we walk into that event tonight, Honor. There are going to be lots of men looking at you, wondering what you have between your legs that has me panting after you like an old dog. They’re going to wonder how good you suck me, going to imagine how these perfect fucking tits bounce when you’re riding on my dick.” I cry out as he leans forward, bending me in half as he begins to thrust, swallowing my gasp with a hungry, possessive kiss.
“Julian,” I whimper when we break apart, utterly helpless to do anything other than take his cock as hard and long as he wants to give it to me.
His hands are planted on the mattress beside my head, caging me in as he drives into me, and instinctively, I know this isn’t going to last long. There will be plenty of times Julian Ballard fucks me for the enjoyment of it, when he stretches our pleasure out for hours and kisses every inch of my body. This is different. This is a man unleashed, taking what is his without apology, and ensuring that neither me, nor anyone else, could ever doubt who I belong to.
“I’m going to come deep,” he snarls, his jaw tight as he bears down on me, the muscles in the backs of my legs burning in protest at being held down like this. I don’t mind, though. Not at all. In fact, if he wants to fuck me like this every single day, I am totally on board.
The broad head of his cock is hitting the deepest parts of me, sending pain and pleasure curling up my spine, and making the muscles in my belly twist tighter each time. Sensing he’s close, I press my hand between my legs, rubbing my clit frantically.
It doesn’t take much.
I come with a loud cry, convulsing beneath him, and Julian snarls as he follows soon after. His eyes are locked on the place where we’re joined, his jaw tight and chest heaving as wet warmth spreads deep inside me.
Oh my god.
I sigh happily as Julian pulls out, allowing my sore legs to fall back to his sides. He crawls onto the mattress beside me, and I scramble off the edge to cuddle against his warm chest, listening to his heartbeat slow.
It’s such a strange feeling, to know that the person you’re with is your future. Even with all the effort I put into prior relationships, I never had even a shadow of the certainty I’m feeling right now. This is it. I’m going to marry him. Someday, I’ll be Honor Ballard.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, brushing my hair back from my face and kissing my temple sweetly.
“Us,” I answer truthfully. “I’m happy.”
Julian’s chest quakes with a quiet laugh. “I’m glad. That makes two of us. I think—wait, are you okay?”
“Oh my god.” I scramble off him, sitting upright as something occurs to me that probably should have much earlier. How could I have forgotten this? What kind of woman just overlooks this very important detail? I whip around to meet Julian’s concerned gaze with round, horrified eyes. “What am I going to wear?”