Chapter 5

Chapter 5 

 Sera

His hand stayed at the back of my neck. My pulse hit hard under his fingers and I knew he felt every single beat.

“Julian.” I said his name like a warning but I did not know who I was warning anymore.

“I told you to stop looking at me like that,” he said. The sharp edge from before was gone. His voice came out lower and rougher. I had not heard that sound from him in three years of marriage.

“Like what?”

“Like you already know how this ends.”

I could not answer. He stood too close. The memory of Victoria’s slap and the ballroom and the way his hand never left mine all night sat raw under my skin. Whatever this was felt careful and complicated and wrong for a dozen reasons. It was also the first thing in three years that made me feel like I existed to him at all.

His thumb moved once against my jaw. I felt him almost pull back. The wall he kept for three years flickered for a second. Then it vanished and he did not pull back at all.

“Thirty days,” I whispered. “You said you wanted a reason.”

“I don’t need one anymore.”

He kissed me hard. No careful public kiss this time. His mouth opened against mine and he took what he wanted. I made a sound I barely knew was mine. His hand tightened on the back of my neck and angled my head the way he liked. His other hand slid down my spine and pressed me tight against him. Every part of him felt hot and tense. Control frayed right under my hands.

We moved without words. The study door clicked shut. His jacket hit the floor. My zipper followed. Clothes came off in messy pulls and tugs until nothing stayed between us but skin. He lifted me onto the edge of the desk like I weighed nothing. Papers scattered. A glass tipped and rolled away. His mouth dragged down my throat and lower. He kissed every place Victoria’s words and the night’s shame tried to erase.

“Julian,” I said again. My voice shook.

“Say it,” he muttered against my skin. “Keep saying it.”

He pushed into me slow at first. Almost careful. Then deeper. Harder. Like the careful part of him burned away for good. I grabbed his shoulders. My nails dug into muscle. He groaned against my collarbone like the sound undid him. The desk creaked under us. My head tipped back. Somewhere in the house a clock struck the hour. It sounded far away and useless. There was only the press of him and the heat of him and the way he kept saying my name like it was the only word left that mattered.

“Sera.”

It broke on a rough breath. His rhythm faltered then drove harder. I felt the edge coming for both of us. Sharp and inevitable. I reached for it without hesitation.

Then the study door handle turned.

A soft metallic click. Footsteps in the hallway. A voice low and female and far too familiar called his name from just outside.

Julian froze inside me. Every muscle locked. His eyes met mine. Dark and wide and suddenly awake in the worst way.

Victoria stood on the other side of that door.

And she was about to walk in.

I stared at him. My heart slammed so hard I thought it might crack a rib. His hands still gripped my hips. He was still buried deep inside me. Neither of us moved. Neither of us breathed right.

“Julian?” Victoria’s voice came again. Closer. “Are you in there? I need to talk to you. Now.”

Julian’s jaw clenched. He looked at me like he wanted to say a hundred things at once and none of them would come out. I opened my mouth. No sound left it. My fingers dug into his arms. I could feel him still hard inside me. The need still sat there unfinished and angry between us.

He pulled out of me fast. The sudden empty feeling made me bite down on a sound. He grabbed his trousers from the floor and yanked them on. His shirt hung open. Buttons missing. Hair a mess. He looked wrecked and furious and something else I could not name.

I scrambled off the desk. My dress lay half under the chair. I snatched it up and shoved my arms through the sleeves. The zipper stuck. My hands shook so bad I could not get it closed. Julian stepped in behind me. His fingers brushed mine as he yanked the zipper up. His breath hit the back of my neck.

“Stay quiet,” he whispered. “Do not say a word.”

“Julian, what the hell—”

“Quiet.”

Victoria knocked. Hard. “I know you’re in there. Open the door.”

Julian’s eyes locked on mine. He looked like a man about to do something stupid. Or necessary. Or both.

He turned toward the door. I stayed behind the desk. My legs felt weak. My body still throbbed from what we almost finished. Heat and frustration and fear mixed so tight in my chest I wanted to scream.

Julian opened the door halfway. Just enough for his body to block the view inside.

“What is it, Victoria?” His voice came out flat. Almost normal. Almost.

“We need to talk about earlier,” she said. “About the slap. About her. About everything. You cannot keep protecting that girl like she is—”

“She is my wife.”

The words landed hard. Victoria went quiet for half a second.

“You made that choice three years ago,” she said. Softer now. Dangerous soft. “You can unmake it. Thirty days, Julian. That is all you asked for. Do not throw away everything for a soft look and a sad story.”

I stood behind the desk and listened. My hands curled into fists at my sides. The dress felt too tight. My skin still burned where his mouth had been. I wanted to walk out there and tell her to leave. I wanted to drag Julian back and finish what we started. I wanted a lot of things I could not have in that moment.

Julian’s shoulders stayed rigid. “Go back to the ballroom, Victoria. We will talk tomorrow.”

“No. We talk now. Let me in.”

“Not tonight.”

“Why? Is she in there with you?”