AFTERMATH #2
"I need you," Julian groaned, his voice thick with raw, unfiltered love. "Right now. I need to be inside you."
Elara didn't hesitate. She slid off the sofa, her knees hitting the plush rug directly in front of him. She pushed the white shirt off her shoulders, letting it pool at her waist, offering herself to him completely.
Julian’s hands were everywhere, frantic and desperate.
He pulled her flush against his chest, his mouth crashing down onto hers in a searing, devastating kiss.
He tasted like dark coffee and absolute salvation.
His tongue swept past her parted lips, demanding everything she had to give, and she gave it willingly.
He laid her back onto the thick, soft rug, his massive frame hovering over her.
"Look at me," Julian commanded, his voice shaking with the monumental effort of his restraint.
Elara opened her eyes, meeting his turbulent, blazing gaze.
"I am never letting you go," Julian swore, his thumbs pressing deeply into her hip bones, aligning her perfectly beneath him. "The contract is gone. The rules are gone. This is forever, Elara."
"Forever," she sobbed softly, wrapping her long legs around his narrow waist, anchoring him to her.
When he finally pushed into her, the sensation was so intense, so impossibly deep, that Elara cried out, her back arching off the rug. Julian groaned, a harsh, tearing sound that vibrated straight through his chest, burying his face in her dark hair as he filled her completely.
He held perfectly still, his heart hammering a violent, frantic rhythm against hers, giving her body time to adjust to the overwhelming size and heat of him.
He began to move.
It was a slow, punishingly deep rhythm. There was no rush.
This was a profound, physical communication.
He was pouring every ounce of his love, his relief, and his fierce devotion directly into her.
Elara writhed beneath him, completely untethered, lost in a haze of pure, blinding ecstasy.
She dragged her nails down the heavy, corded muscles of his back, meeting every thrust with a desperate, answering heat.
"Julian," she sobbed his name, the pleasure building into a sharp, blinding crescendo.
"I've got you," Julian gritted out, the pace turning frantic, desperate. He slipped one bandaged hand between their bodies, his thumb finding the sensitive core of her, pushing her directly to the edge of sanity. "Let go, sweetheart. I’m right here."
The dual friction shattered her entirely. A beautiful, broken cry tore from her throat as wave after wave of intense, blinding pleasure ripped through her body, leaving her completely boneless against him.
Julian felt her shatter, the exquisite sensation completely destroying his iron-clad control. He let out a harsh, guttural roar, driving into her one final, impossibly deep time before his entire massive frame shuddered violently, entirely overcome by his release.
He collapsed against her, his chest heaving, his arms wrapping around her in a crushing, desperate grip.
They lay there on the floor for hours as the sun sank below the horizon, painting the living room in shadows. Julian kept her tucked securely against his chest, his fingers gently tracing the line of her spine.
The silence was perfect. It was absolute.
And then, Julian’s phone on the coffee table began to buzz.
The heavy vibration shattered the tranquility, dragging them violently back to reality.
Julian let out a low, frustrated growl, burying his face in her neck. "I’m going to throw it in the pool."
"It might be Marcus," Elara murmured, running her hands through his dark hair, entirely unwilling to let him move. "The seventy-two-hour grace period is up."
Julian swore softly, rolling onto his side and pulling her with him so they were completely entangled. He reached up, grabbed the phone, and looked at the screen.
"It’s Sarah," Julian sighed, answering the call and putting it on speaker so Elara could hear. "What is it, Sarah? If the world hasn't ended, I don't care."
"The world hasn't ended, Julian, but the news cycle is about to restart," Sarah’s voice crackled through the speaker. She sounded exhausted, but there was a sharp, tactical edge to her tone that hadn't been there in weeks. "I have good news and I have terrifying news."
"Give us the good news," Elara said, her voice husky.
"The good news is that Declan Hayes is officially radioactive," Sarah announced, a vicious note of triumph in her voice.
"His production studio fired him this morning. The leaked contract blew up in his face exactly like Marcus predicted. The public saw a man trying to exploit a woman’s vulnerability, and they crucified him. You two are officially the most beloved couple in America."
Elara closed her eyes, a massive, crushing weight completely lifting off her chest. Declan was gone. The nightmare was over. Julian tightened his arm around her, pressing a fierce kiss to her forehead.
"And the terrifying news?" Julian asked, his stormy eyes narrowing.
"The terrifying news," Sarah sighed, "is that the 'fake dating' grace period is over. The media isn't looking for a scandal anymore, Julian. They are looking for the fairy tale. And the pressure on both of you is going to be a hundred times worse than it was before."
Elara’s breath hitched.
"Julian, your suspension is up in two weeks, right before the playoffs begin," Sarah continued rapidly.
"The network has already requested exclusive access to you. They want to film a docu-series on your playoff run. And Elara, the label just fast-tracked your European tour. Pre-sales are astronomical. You leave for London in exactly three weeks."
The silence in the living room was deafening.
Three weeks.
In three weeks, Julian would be plunged into the most brutal, high-stakes hockey of his life, fighting for the Stanley Cup under a microscope that magnified every single movement.
And in three weeks, Elara would be boarding a plane to cross the Atlantic, embarking on a grueling, multi-country tour that would demand every ounce of her physical and emotional energy.
The forced proximity that had built their relationship was about to be violently replaced by forced distance and unprecedented public scrutiny.
"You guys need to be ready," Sarah warned softly.
"The world is obsessed with you right now. They want the picture-perfect romance. If Julian drops a game, they’ll blame the distraction of the relationship. If Elara misses a note on tour, they’ll say the pressure of dating an athlete broke her. The PR contract might be dead,
but the spotlight is brighter than ever. You have a meeting with Marcus and me tomorrow at 9:00 AM to strategize."
The call ended, the line clicking dead.
Julian stared at the blank phone screen for a long, heavy moment before tossing it back onto the coffee table.
He didn't look panicked. He didn't look defeated. The stormy gray of his eyes hardened, the lethal, calculating warlord returning to the surface, ready to command his territory.
He looked down at Elara. She was staring at him, her whiskey eyes wide, the reality of their impending schedules crashing down on her.
"Three weeks," Elara whispered, a sudden, terrifying lump forming in her throat. "Julian, how are we going to do this? You’re going into the playoffs. I’m going to Europe. The media is going to be watching every single move we make, waiting for us to crack."
Julian didn't hesitate. He shifted, pinning her to the rug, his massive frame caging her completely. He leaned down, capturing her face in his large, calloused hands.
"Look at me," Julian commanded, his voice a dark, absolute rumble of authority.
Elara met his gaze, her heart hammering against her ribs.
"I spent two years watching you from three thousand miles away, Elara," Julian swore, his thumbs tracing her cheekbones, his eyes blazing with a fierce, indestructible devotion.
"Do you think an ocean is going to stop me now? Do you think a few cameras and a hockey tournament are going to change the fact that you are the center of my goddamn universe?"
"It’s going to be so hard," she whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek.
"I don't care if it’s hard," Julian rasped, his forehead resting heavily against hers. "I don't care if I have to fly to London between playoff games just to hold you for an hour. The game hasn't ended, sweetheart. The rules just changed. And I told you on the very first day..."
He leaned down, his lips brushing against hers, a scorching promise that sealed her fate completely.
"...I don't play to lose."