SINS UNDER THE TABLE {2}

Genevieve

The heavy iron gates of Tristan’s compound hadn't even fully swung open before Julian’s custom matte-black Maybach roared through, stopping so abruptly the tires screeched against the wet pavement.

The driver's side door flew open, and Julian stepped out into the damp night air. Standing at over six-foot-two, clad in a razor-sharp charcoal suit with no tie, he looked less like a corporate titan and more like a predator hunting in the dark. His dark eyes locked onto mine the second I stepped into the driveway light, and the sheer, violent intensity in his gaze made my knees weak.

He didn't say a word. He strode over, grabbed my jaw in his warm, calloused palm, and tilted my face up toward his. His thumb traced my cheekbone with a fierce, possessive pressure.

"You're not crying," Julian rasped, his deep voice vibrating through his chest. "Good. Don't waste a single drop of liquid on that worthless bastard."

"I don't have any tears for him, Julian," I said, my voice deadpan, completely devoid of emotion. "Take me away from here."

He opened the passenger door, ushered me inside, and slammed it shut with a heavy, satisfying thud. Within seconds, we were speeding through the city streets, leaving the ghost of Tristan’s penthouse behind us in the dark.

Ten minutes later, the Maybach pulled into the private underground elevator of the most exclusive skyscraper in the financial district. The elevator shot up seventy stories without a single stop, opening directly into Julian’s private glass penthouse.

The space was breathtaking, sleek, minimalist, and surrounded on all sides by floor-to-ceiling glass windows that overlooked the glittering city skyline. I walked straight toward the massive glass wall in the main living room, staring out at the ocean of city lights. In the distance, just a few blocks away, I could clearly see the distinctive high-rise spire of Tristan’s apartment building.

"You can see his place from here," I muttered, resting my hand against the cool glass.

Julian walked up behind me, his heavy leather shoes echoing against the polished concrete floor. He stopped just inches away, his body radiating a wall of dark, suffocating heat that wrapped around me like a blanket.

"I bought this specific floor three years ago for that exact reason, Genevieve," Julian murmured, his voice dropping into a rough, dangerous whisper near my ear. "So I could look out this window every night and make sure you were safe. So I could watch over you while you were sleeping in that weakling's bed."

A shiver ran down my spine, sharp and sudden. It wasn't fear, it was a dark, electric thrill that ignited the cold, dead space in my chest.

Julian turned me around to face him. He reached out, his long fingers cupping my cheeks gently, his thumbs brushing over my lower lip. His dark eyes softened just a fraction, filled with a protective tenderness that felt entirely foreign in this cold night.

"I'm going to ruin him, Gen," Julian promised, his voice dropping into a low, lethal vow. "By tomorrow morning, his lines of credit will be frozen. By noon, his firm's board will vote to remove him. I'm going to strip everything away from him until he has nothing left to offer anyone." He took a deep breath, stepping back a half-inch, forcing his hands down to his sides. "I'll call my maid to set up the guest suite for you. You need rest. I'm not going to touch you tonight, Gen. You're vulnerable, you're hurting, and I refuse to take advantage of you when your head is spinning."

He was trying to be noble. He was trying to play the protective knight, treating me like fragile glass that might shatter if he pressed too hard.

I hated it.

I didn't want respect. I didn't want soft words or guest bedrooms. I wanted raw, brutal sensation to burn away the image of Tristan pounding into Chloe on that mahogany desk. I wanted to be claimed so completely that every inch of my skin belonged to Julian.

I let out a low, bitter laugh that echoed off the high glass walls.

"Noble Julian," I sneered, taking a aggressive step forward, closing the distance between us until my chest was pressed flat against his crisp white dress shirt. "You think I want rest?"

Before he could react, I reached down and grabbed the heavy silver buckle of his custom leather belt. I pulled him hard toward me, forcing his hips flush against mine. I could feel the rock-hard, heavy outline of his desire pressing against my stomach, betraying his calm expression.

"Don't treat me like glass, Julian," I whispered, my lips brushing against his jawline, my breath hot against his neck. "Tristan took three years of my life and threw it away on a desk. Give me what he stole. Claim me. Destroy every thought of him in my head right now."

Julian went completely rigid. I could hear the sharp, violent intake of his breath as his hand gripped my waist so hard his fingers dug through the fabric of my dress.

"Genevieve..." he warned, his voice thick, rough, and trembling with a dark, dangerous restraint. "If I lay my hands on you right now, I won't stop. I've waited years for this. If I take you tonight, you will never leave this penthouse. You will be mine."

"Then make me yours," I demanded, yanked his belt tight, pulling his mouth down to mine. "Do it."

That was the final straw. Julian’s restraint didn't just break, it shattered into a thousand pieces.

With a low, feral growl that tore from deep within his throat, he grabbed me by the back of my thighs and lifted me straight off the floor. I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist as he backed me across the room, slamming my back flat against the cool glass window.

His mouth came down on mine with absolute, savage authority. There was nothing gentle about his kiss. His tongue parted my lips aggressively, taking full possession of my mouth, tasting like aged whiskey and pure, dark obsession. He kissed me like a starving man tearing into a feast, claiming every inch of my breath while his hands gripped my hips, holding me pinned against the glass.

"You're mine, Gen," Julian growled against my mouth, his breath coming in heavy, ragged gasps. "Say it. Tell me who you belong to."

"Yours," I gasped out, my hands digging into his broad shoulders, my nails scraping through his shirt. "I'm yours, Julian... take me!"

Julian reached down, grabbing the hem of my silk dress and ripping it upward with a sharp, violent tear. The thin fabric gave way easily, leaving my thighs completely bare against the cool pane of the window. He didn't bother unbuttoning his trousers fully, he unzipped them with a sharp metallic slide, releasing his heavy, rigid length into the tight, burning space between us.

"Ahh, Gen you're already wet for me." he gasps.

He didn't ease into it. He positioned himself at my core and drove his hips forward with a relentless, deep thrust that filled me completely in one brutal motion.

Ahhh! A loud, breathy gasp escaped my throat, ringing out against the high ceilings. The sensation was overwhelming, a wall of intense, thick heat stretching me to my absolute limit, burying himself so deep inside me that I felt it in the back of my spine.

"Fuck, Gen... you're so tight," Julian groaned, his face buried in the crook of my neck, his hot mouth biting softly into the sensitive skin of my collarbone as he began to move.

Wet, heavy slap.

Thwack!

Thwack!

Thwack!

The sound of our bodies colliding echoed off the massive glass pane, accompanied by the wet, squelching friction of his thrusts. Squelch, slap, squelch. Every time he drove inside me, my back pressed harder against the glass overlooking the city. Below us, the city lights blurred into a streak of gold and white, but all I could focus on was the immense, thick heat of Julian’s body pounding against mine.

He moved with a dark, possessive rhythm, pulling back until just the swollen tip was inside, then driving all the way home with a wet, heavy force that made my toes curl.

Slap! Wet thrust. Slap!

"Ah... Julian... right there... don't stop!" I cried out, my head tossing back against the glass, my hands clutching his neck as my body shuddered around him.

His hands shifted, gripping my bare cheeks tightly, lifting me higher against the window to angle his thrusts even deeper. "Look at me, Genevieve," Julian commanded, his dark eyes burning into mine with an intense, unyielding fire. "Watch me take you. Look out at the city... look at his building down there while I fill you up."

I forced my eyes open, looking past his shoulder at the faint light of Tristan’s building in the distance while Julian slammed his hips into mine with a fierce, punishing speed. The contrast was intoxicating, the memory of Tristan’s weak betrayal being completely washed away by Julian’s overwhelming, dark power.

Julian’s pace turned frantic. The wet sound of our joining grew louder, faster, filling the quiet suite with a filthy, beautiful noise. Slap-slap-slap-squelch. My inner muscles clamped down around him, pulsing violently as a wave of intense, high-heat orgasm crashed over me, shattering my senses. I screamed his name into the empty air, my body trembling uncontrollably around his cock.

Hearing my scream drove Julian over the edge. With three final, deep, violent thrusts that pinned me flat against the glass, he buried himself to the hilt, his body locking rigid as he erupted deep inside me with a heavy, throbbing release.

"Gen... my sweet, dark Gen," Julian rasped, his voice breaking as he held me tight, his chest heaving up and down against mine while his fluid filled me completely.

For a long time, we stayed locked together against the glass, our heavy breathing the only sound in the vast penthouse. Julian slowly lowered my feet to the floor, keeping his arms wrapped possessively around my waist, refusing to let me go.

Then, a sharp, bright glow lit up the dark room.

My smartphone, resting on the white marble coffee table behind us, buzzed loudly against the stone. The screen flashed bright with an incoming text notification.

Julian’s eyes narrowed as he glanced over my shoulder at the screen. I turned my head, my eyes locking onto the preview text displayed in bright white letters from Tristan:

"Hey babe, late night at the office working with Chloe. Love you!"