23. Natalie
CHAPTER 23
NATALIE
T he sun dips below the horizon, casting long shadows across the empty construction site. The day's work is winding down, but light still spills from Julian's office window. It's unusual for him to stay this late; he always wants to get back to Aria as quickly as possible.
I've been worried about Julian since our conversation on Sunday. Maybe now would be a good time to check in, make sure he's doing alright, and support him how I can. It would benefit me, too, to focus on him, instead of the other concern literally growing inside me.
I make my way to the office, knocking lightly on the doorframe so as not to startle him. Julian looks up, his expression a mix of surprise and fatigue.
"Still going at it?" I ask, stepping tentatively into the room that's recently become our private little sanctuary.
He closes his eyes and leans back in his chair, sighing deeply. "Yeah, it's been one of those days. Since the police aren’t coming up with anything, I decided to look into things myself," he admits, his voice tinged with an unsettling determination.
“What do you mean?” I ask, shock and concern drawing me closer to him. “You're not going to do something rash, are you?” The thought of Julian taking on more than he should, of possibly putting himself in danger, ignites a sudden panic in me.
He gives me a half smile. "Don't worry, angel. I’m just researching right now.” Then he crumples, his face falling as he slumps forward in his chair. “It’s just... everything feels like it’s piling up."
His words cue me in, alerting me that he's rapidly approaching another breaking point. His effort to communicate with me despite how overwhelmed he must feel means a lot to me. I want to do my part, too, and be an anchor for Julian in times like these rather than another stress to add to the pile.
I step closer, kneeling down by his chair, leveling my gaze with his. "I owe you an apology for earlier," I offer, hoping to ease at least one small portion of his burden. "I didn’t mean to leave so abruptly. Or to toy with you. I’ve just got a lot on my mind."
Julian leans closer and brushes the hair from my cheek, tucking it behind my ear. "Hey, it’s okay. I understand," he says gently, his fingers tracing the length of my jaw before falling back to his lap.
The simple touch sends a shiver down my spine, rekindling the unresolved tension from our last encounter. "I want to make it up to you," I whisper, looking up into his eyes, finding his anxiety replaced by desire.
His response is immediate, his arms encircling my waist, pulling us both to our feet. "I think we can figure something out," he murmurs, his voice low and inviting.
My heart races as I tilt my face up to his, the magnetic pull between us undeniable. As his lips capture mine, the kiss deepens instinctively, the world around us fading into insignificance. His hands are firm on my back, drawing me even closer, and I respond in kind, my arms looping around his neck.
Julian's touch is both familiar and exhilarating, stirring a passion that had been simmering just beneath the surface since our lunch break. He licks my bottom lip, asking for entrance, and I grant it. He tastes of coffee, rich and earthy.
Eventually, we part, breathless. Our foreheads rest against each other, and he whispers, “I think we should make up more often."
With a playful smile, I reply, "But we’ve barely even started."
Julian's breath catches, his whole body still and hard against mine. And then a new pressure, low against my stomach, as his desire begins to grow. I grin, pressing myself harder against him, relishing in his response to my touch.
"Would you like to come back to my house?” I murmur, tracing the lines of ink on his arm. “I mean, I’m sure you have to get back to Aria?—”
Julian's response is immediate, his eyes darkening with anticipation. "Aria is at a friend’s," he breathes out, the words barely a whisper but heavy with desire. “I'll take you to mine.”
Julian never breaks contact with me as we make our way out of the building. He holds my hand, strokes my hair, runs his fingers down my spine and over my ass. At one point, he moves behind me, his breath warm on my neck as his teeth graze my earlobe. It's impossible to walk straight.
Outside, the cool evening air does little to temper the heat that radiates from us. He leads me to his car, and as we slide into the front seats, Julian's hand finds my thigh, his touch bold and insistent. The warmth of his palm through the fabric of my leggings sends a thrill straight to my core, and I cover his hand with mine, inching it closer to where I want him most. Julian growls as he starts the engine.
The drive to Julian's house is a blur of heightened senses; every shift of his hand on my thigh sends a new wave of anticipation through me. The streetlights flicker overhead, casting intermittent shadows across Julian's face, highlighting his statuesque bone structure, his features carved by a master artist.
When we pull up to his house, the soft glow of the porch light welcomes us. Julian leads me to the front door, throwing it open and not bothering to turn on any lights. He scoops me up into his arms with ease and carries me through the dark hallways of the house as he kisses me, only pausing to open the door to his bedroom.
There's a soft, ambient light emanating from a bedside lamp, bathing the room in gentle illumination. The bed, with its plush pillows and soft, inviting duvet, is just a few steps away, but the world slows down as we cross the threshold and enter the room.
Here, in Julian's most private space, we lock eyes. This feels bigger than the first time in his office, heavy with intention. The near-silver intensity in his eyes tells me all I need to know about his desires, that they match mine perfectly. We come together with a new urgency; our earlier restraint abandoned as he lowers me to the bed.
As Julian’s hands explore the contours of my body, sliding his hands under my shirt with a slow, deliberate motion that sparks a wildfire across my skin, I realize how much I've craved this closeness. I've kept myself at a distance since discovering I’m pregnant, and even now a doubt sounds in the back of my mind: If Julian knew that I was pregnant with his child, would he still want me this desperately?
I force the thought from my mind, focusing instead on Julian's touch. My stomach, my breasts, my neck, every caress sending waves of anticipation coursing through me. It's actually difficult to think about anything when he's touching me like this, his hands warm and insistent.
Swiftly and easily, Julian lifts my shirt over my head and tosses it aside. He finds the hook of my bra and removes it too, leaving me exposed under the soft light. His eyes roam over me, a mix of adoration and raw desire shining in their silvery gleam.
Leaning over me, Julian eliminates the last remnants of space between us. His hands explore the newly revealed skin, his touch both tender and charged with urgency. My breath catches in my throat as his fingertips slide along my sides, sending shivers through me that pool into a warm ache at the pit of my stomach.
I reach for him, my fingers just barely brushing his shoulder before he pulls away. He kisses my ribs on one side, just below my breast, feeding the hunger that's been steadily growing within me since I entered his home. His mouth moves in gentle, tantalizing patters across my abdomen, his tongue dipping into my navel as he makes his way lower and lower.
Julian’s fingernails scrape against my hips as he finds the waist of my leggings, and the realization of his intention sends hot, demanding jolts to my center. The air is cool on my skin as the fabric is stripped away, but Julian is warm, and his mouth is only inches from my weeping sex.
“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” he asks, nipping at my inner thigh.
My hips buck instinctively. “Not today,” I breathe.
Julian draws his gaze up to meet my eyes, fixing me in his stare. The tattoo that snakes along his neck is suddenly so fitting.
“You're beautiful, Natalie,” he states firmly, before dragging his tongue between my folds.
“Oh,” I cry, startled by the electric contact.
Julian's tongue is rough at first as he explores the most intimate parts of me, but he adjusts quickly, reading my reactions with surprising clarity. Not once do his eyes leave my face, watching my every reaction to his movement, and that somehow feels more intimate than having his mouth on my pussy.
After a moment, Julian finds a rhythm that sets the tension building. He swirls his tongue over my clit in glorious strokes before dipping it inside me, and my thighs begin to shake, desperate for release. My back arches as his nose presses right against my bud, his tongue still working miracles further below. Instinctively, my hands knot in his hair, holding Julian's face tighter to my sex as a tidal wave of pleasure crashes over me.
My whole body shudders as I call Julian's name, my walls clenching around his tongue that buoys me through the storm of my orgasm. Only when I finally settle does he stop his ministrations, pulling up to smirk at me with prideful satisfaction.
“You're right,” I whimper, still basking in the afterglow, “we should make up more often.”
Julian drags his thumb along his stubbled chin, capturing a remnant of my arousal, and then brings it to his lips.
“But we've barely even started,” he echoes my words from before, and my hips twitch.
As Julian removes his clothes, I use the moment to catch my breath. My whole body is a livewire; just the sensation of the duvet beneath my skin is enough to keep me squirming as I wait for Julian to return, fully enjoying the site of him laid completely bare before me.
Within seconds, he's on top of me again. Our lips crash together in a kiss that is anything but gentle. I can taste myself on his tongue—a new experience for me. It's an exhilarating reminder of where his mouth has just been, and a promise to return to many times over.
My sex throbs, aching to be stretched and filled by Julian, to become part of him. I spread my legs wider for him and his hips slide perfectly between them. The weight of him, solid and warm, is a delicious pressure that I welcome.
His cock rests against my center, long and hot, teasing me. My hands find his hair, tangling in the dark locks as I wrap my legs around him with an urgency that borders on desperation. His groan vibrates against my lips, a sound so laden with desire it mirrors the pounding of my own heart.
Julian takes his time, drawing out the moment for as long as possible. Just a little at first, and then more and more deeply he enters me. It's amazing how easily he fills me, relieving my aching walls with the contact alone. I relish in the fullness, thighs clenching as I moan.
Then his hands are everywhere at once, tracing the lines of my body with a possessiveness that leaves a trail of heat in its wake. I arch into his touch as he pounds more fiercely into me, craving more, my own hands roaming over the hard muscles of his back and shoulders, feeling the powerful strength of his form.
The room is filled with the sound of our ragged breathing and the soft rustle of fabric as he fucks me—really fucks me—in a way that feels both dominating and endearing, this man claiming me as his. The pleasure that swells inside of me is intense, each shift drawing a new gasp or moan that punctuates the quiet room. Julian’s mouth trails from my lips down my neck, finding the sensitive skin there, and I tilt my head back, giving him access, lost in the sensation of his teeth.
Our movements are frantic, driven by a mutual desperation to be as close as possible. I need him, arousal threatening to shatter me again even though it’s only been minutes since he made come. I cling to him, back arching, murmuring his name over and over.
Julian brings one hand to the bed, the other cupping below my ass for more leverage. The angle changes, his cock hitting even deeper inside me, reaching the spot that sends me soaring.
“Natalie,” he moans against my skin, punctuated by a thrust that has my walls clenching. I see white, my whole body arching. It’s mere seconds before Julian bursts too. His warm come splatters my thighs as he pulls out, the two of us chase that intoxicating high together, falling over the edge at the same time.
Arms shaking, Julian collapses on top of me, his weight a steady comfort amidst the overwhelming sensation. After a moment, he rolls over, laying an arm across my stomach as he gazes at me. “Natalie,” he whispers again, almost as if he can't believe it's really me here beside him.
Hearing him speak my name so tenderly, in the aftermath of our shared passion, a profound realization dawns on me—I love him. The thought comes not with a shock, but with a certainty that settles deep within me.
I love Julian Rodriguez.
Lying beside me, Julian’s hand traces patterns on my skin, each touch sending aftershocks of pleasure through me. He leans in to kiss my collarbone gently, his lips soft against the sensitive skin, and I curl into him, my body molding to his in a perfect fit. His presence, his warmth, his nearness—it all feels like pieces of a puzzle clicking into place.
In this quiet afterglow, as I rest in the crook of his arm, feeling his chest rise and fall with each breath, a wave of contentment washes over me.
Yet, beneath the surface of this bliss, a persistent thread of worry reappears, tugging at me.
My mind drifts to the pregnancy—the baby. The realization of my love for Julian only complicates the emotions swirling within me. How long can I keep this from him? How will he react when he learns of our impending parenthood? And will he be angry with me for not telling him sooner?
Yet, as I listen to Julian’s steady heartbeat and feel the gentle pressure of his lips on my skin, I find those worries being pushed aside. There will be time for confessions, for discussions and decisions. For now, in the quiet sanctuary of Julian’s embrace, I allow myself the solace of this connection, the simple joy of being with the man I love.
I’ll tell Julian about the pregnancy soon, and it will be a bridge we cross together. For now, I breathe in the scent of him, let the sound of his heartbeat anchor me, and revel in the love that, despite everything, feels like the most natural thing in the world.