Chapter 8 Elio #2
Midnight had come and gone. I was reviewing the final pieces of evidence we'd organized. Making sure everything was airtight before we moved forward with exposing Winston.
The work was good. Methodical. Exactly the kind of detail-oriented task that usually helped me focus.
Tonight it was just distraction. My mind kept drifting to Julian. To the way he'd looked at me today. To his knee pressed against mine under the desk. To the want I saw in his eyes that matched the want I was fighting.
To Matteo's words: If you don't make a move, he will.
I should go home. Get a few hours of sleep before tomorrow's meeting with Sandro. Stop obsessing over a twenty-one-year-old who'd gotten under my skin in ways I'd spent years preventing.
Instead I just sat at my desk and stared at the documents without seeing them.
A knock on my door made me look up.
Julian stood in the doorway wearing gray pajama pants and a worn t-shirt. Barefoot. Hair mussed like he'd been lying down. He looked young and vulnerable and absolutely devastating.
"What are you doing up?" I asked.
"Couldn't sleep." He stepped inside. Closed the door behind him.
Locked it.
The click of the lock was loud in the quiet office.
"Julian—"
"We need to talk."
"It's late. We can talk tomorrow—"
"No. We're talking now." He crossed the office. Stopped in front of my desk. "I'm making a choice, Elio. And you're going to listen."
My heart rate kicked up. "What choice?"
"This one."
He rounded the desk. I pushed my chair back to give him space. Instead of taking it, Julian sat on the edge of my desk. Right in front of me. Close enough that I could see the pulse beating in his throat. Close enough to touch.
"Are you going to tell me to leave?" he asked.
I should. I absolutely should. This was inappropriate. Dangerous. Everything I'd been trying to avoid for days.
"I should."
"But will you?"
I looked at him. At the determination in his eyes. At the way he was looking at me like I was something wanted.
"No."
Julian smiled. Slow and devastating. "Good."
He leaned down and kissed me.
I let him lead. For about thirty seconds. Let him explore. Let him kiss me with enthusiasm and eagerness and absolutely no finesse.
Then I took over.
I pulled him into my lap in one smooth motion. Julian gasped against my mouth—surprise and want mixing in that sound. I kissed him properly. The way I'd been wanting to for days. Deep and thorough and possessive.
Julian arched into me. His hands fisted in my shirt. Pulled me closer like he was afraid I'd pull away again.
I wasn't pulling away. Not this time.
My hands slid under his t-shirt. Found warm skin. Julian shivered and gasped again. I swallowed the sound with another kiss.
He was straddling my lap now. Fitted perfectly against me. I could feel his body responding. Could feel my own response. Could feel every ounce of control I'd been maintaining for weeks finally cracking.
I pulled back. Had to. Had to make sure he understood what this meant.
"Julian. Are you sure about this?"
His eyes were dark. Pupils blown wide. Lips swollen from kissing. He looked thoroughly debauched and we'd barely started.
"I've never been more sure of anything."
"This changes everything."
"I know. I want it to change. I'm tired of pretending I don't want you. Tired of you pretending you don't want me." His hands came up to frame my face. "Stop fighting this."
I kissed him again. Let myself have this one thing I shouldn't want. This person who saw through all my carefully constructed walls and chose me anyway.
Julian kissed back with desperate enthusiasm. Ground against me in a way that suggested he had no idea what he was doing but was determined to figure it out.
I groaned. Gripped his hips to still him. "Slow down."
"Why?"
"Because you're going to make yourself come just from that. And I'd rather make it last."
Julian's eyes went wide. "I—what?"
"You're a virgin, Julian. Completely inexperienced. Your body's going to respond fast to stimulation. We need to slow down." I ran my hands up his sides. Watched him shiver. "Trust me?"
"Yes."
"Good. Then let me lead. Let me show you how this works."
I kissed him slowly. Thoroughly. Teaching him how to use his tongue. How to vary pressure. How to drive someone crazy with just a mouth.
Julian was a fast learner. Adapted quickly. Started kissing back with more finesse and less desperation.
My hands explored. Found the hem of his shirt and pulled it up. Julian lifted his arms without breaking the kiss. Let me strip the shirt off and drop it on the floor.
Then I just looked at him.
Lean muscle. Smooth skin. A few scattered freckles across his shoulders. Beautiful in a way that made my chest tight.
"You're staring," Julian said. His voice was shy. Self-conscious.
"You're beautiful."
"I'm not—"
"You are. And I'm going to prove it to you."
I leaned in and kissed his throat. His collarbone. The hollow at the base of his neck. Julian's head fell back. Gave me access. His hands gripped my shoulders.
I worked my way down. Learning what made him gasp. What made him moan. What made his breath catch.
When I found his nipple and sucked, Julian nearly came off my lap.
"Oh God—Elio—"
"Sensitive?" I did it again. Watched him arch and shudder.
"I didn't know—I've never—"
"I know. I'm teaching you." I gave the other one the same attention. "Your body's never been touched like this. Everything's new. Everything's intense. Just feel it."
Julian was trembling. Hands clutching my shoulders like I was the only thing keeping him anchored. I could feel him hard against me. Could feel my own answering hardness. Could feel control slipping further with every sound he made.
I kissed my way back up to his mouth. Kissed him deep while my hands explored his back. His sides. The lean muscle of his abdomen.
"Can I touch you?" I asked against his lips.
"Yes. Please. I need—"
"I know what you need."
My hand slid between us. Cupped him through the pajama pants. Julian made a sound I'd never heard before—desperate and needy and completely overwhelmed.
"Too much?" I asked.
"Not enough. Please, Elio, I need—"
"Tell me. Use your words."
"I don't know what I need. I just—it's too much and not enough and I feel like I'm going to explode—"
Poor kid was wound so tight he was barely coherent. I gentled my touch. Rubbed slow circles. Let him get used to the sensation.
"We're going to take this slow," I said. "I'm going to make you feel good. But we're not rushing. This is your first time being touched like this. I want you to remember every second."
"I'll remember. God, Elio, please—"
I kissed him quiet while my hand worked him through the fabric. Let him get used to the sensation. Let him rock against my palm and learn the rhythm.
When he was gasping and shaking, I pulled my hand away. Julian made a sound of protest.
"Patience." I kissed his neck. "Trust me."
I slid my hand inside his pajama pants. Found him hot and hard and already leaking. The moment I wrapped my hand around him, Julian's head fell back with a broken moan.
"Look at me," I commanded.
His eyes opened. Met mine. Dark and desperate and full of trust.
"That's it. Let me see you."
I stroked him slowly. Learning what he liked. How much pressure. What rhythm made him gasp. He was responsive and honest and completely uninhibited in a way that made me want to devour him.
"Elio—I'm—I can't—"
"You can. Just feel it. Let go."
"I've never—not like this—"
"I know. First time someone else has touched you. First time you haven't had to hide. Just let yourself feel it, Julian. I've got you."
I increased the pace. Added a twist to my wrist that made Julian cry out. His hands scrabbled against my shoulders. Trying to ground himself. Trying to process sensation he'd never experienced before.
"That's it. You're so responsive. So perfect. Let me see you come apart."
"Elio—please—I need—"
"I know what you need."
I kissed him while my hand worked faster. Swallowed his moans and gasps and desperate sounds. Felt him get closer. Felt his whole body tense.
"Let go," I whispered against his lips. "Come for me, Julian."
He shattered.
Came with my name on his lips and his body arching and his hands clutching me like I was the only solid thing in his world. I worked him through it. Gentled my touch as he came down. Kissed him soft and sweet while he trembled and gasped.
When he finally opened his eyes, he looked dazed. Overwhelmed. Beautiful.
"I didn't know it could be like that."
"Because you've been controlling yourself your whole life. Denying yourself pleasure because you were saving it for someone who didn't deserve it." I kissed him gently. "You deserved better than that."
Julian buried his face in my neck. I felt dampness against my skin. Realized he was crying.
"Hey." I pulled back to look at him. "Julian, what's wrong?"
"Nothing. Everything's right. I just—" He wiped at his eyes.
"I've spent so long being told I wasn't allowed to want things.
That my body belonged to someone else. That pleasure was something I'd have to earn by submitting.
And you just—you made me feel like I mattered. Like I deserved to feel good."
Something cracked in my chest. All the guilt and fear and self-recrimination about taking advantage of someone inexperienced crumbled under the weight of Julian's honesty.
"You do deserve it. All of it. And anyone who told you otherwise was wrong."
I held him while he composed himself. Let him press his face against my neck and breathe. Let him take the time he needed to process.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes were red but clear.
"Your turn," he said.
"What?"
"You took care of me. Now I want to take care of you."
"Julian, you don't have to—"
"I want to. Teach me. Show me how to make you feel good."
The offer nearly destroyed what was left of my control. But I couldn't. Not tonight. Not when this was all so new for him.
"Next time," I said. "Tonight was about you. About showing you that intimacy doesn't have to be something you endure. That it can be good. Safe. Chosen."
"But you didn't—"
"I'm fine. Watching you was enough." I kissed him softly. "This wasn't transactional, Julian. I didn't do this expecting something in return. I did it because I wanted to. Because you wanted it. That's all that matters."
Julian looked at me for a long moment. Then smiled. Soft and genuine and devastating.
"You're a much better man than you think you are."
"I'm really not."
"You are. You just don't see it because you've spent years punishing yourself for things that weren't your fault." He touched my face. "I see you, remember? All of you. The good parts and the parts you think are broken. I want all of it."
I pulled him close and just held him. Let myself have this moment of peace.
We stayed like that for a long time. Julian in my lap. My arms around him. The office quiet except for our breathing.
Eventually I said, "You should get back to your room. Get some sleep."
"I don't want to go."
"I know. But if you stay here, I'm going to want more. And you're not ready for that yet."
"What if I want more?"
"You do. Your body doesn't know what it's asking for yet. Trust me on this." I kissed his forehead. "We have time. We don't have to rush."
Julian sighed but nodded. Stood up from my lap on shaky legs. I helped him find his shirt. Watched him get dressed.
At the door, he turned back.
"This did change everything," he said. "You know that, right?"
"I know."
"Good. Because I'm not letting you run from this. From us. Not anymore."
"I'm not running."
"Promise?"
I crossed to him. Framed his face with my hands. Kissed him thoroughly.
"I promise. No more running."
Julian smiled against my mouth. "Good."
I walked him back to his room. Down quiet hallways. Past security cameras I'd have to review tomorrow and make sure no one else saw.
At his door, I kissed him one more time.
"Sleep well."
"You too. And Elio?" He touched my chest where my heart was racing. "Thank you. For seeing me. For choosing me back."
He went inside. The door closed.
I stood in the hallway for a long moment. Trying to process what had just happened. What I'd just done. What this meant.
I'd crossed a line I couldn't uncross. Given in to desire I'd been fighting for weeks. Let myself have something I shouldn't want.
And I didn't regret it.
Not even a little bit.
I went back to my office. Sat at my desk. Looked at the evidence we'd organized against Winston Bianchi.
Tomorrow we'd move forward with destroying Julian's father. With making Julian permanently mine by ensuring he could never go back.
Tonight I'd claimed him in a different way. Shown him that intimacy could be chosen. That his body belonged to him. That pleasure was something he deserved.
My phone buzzed.
I can still feel your hands on me. Good night, Elio. Sleep well knowing you made me feel safe and wanted and seen. Thank you for that.
I stared at the message.
Then I texted back: Good night, Julian. Sleep well knowing you're mine now. I protect what's mine.
His response was immediate: Good. I don't want to belong to anyone else.
I sat in my office and smiled.
Matteo had been right. I'd stopped torturing myself and made a choice.
And Julian had been right too. This changed everything.
But for the first time in a very long time, I wasn't afraid of change.
I was ready for it.