Chapter 2: Temptation Has Rules

ISLA'S POV

One thing I learned tonight? Never underestimate the power of a single kiss from a grown man in a black tailored suit.

Julian killed the engine, but didn’t move. His left hand rested casually on the wheel, his right hand was on my thigh like I already was his.

Meanwhile, I could barely remember how to speak.

I’d just had a near-religious experience in the middle of a crowded bar because of his lips. He kissed me as if hired to make me forget my d*mn last name.

“Still breathing?” he asked, voice deep and a little raspy.

Oh, great. That voice alone just made my vagina applaud.

I turned slowly, meeting his gaze. “That should be illegal in several countries.”

Julian gave a faint smile. Dangerous. Confident. And oh, so f*ck*ng s*xy.

“You haven’t seen what happens if we keep going.”

My ovaries just exploded.

I didn’t answer. Instead, I unbuckled my seatbelt and climbed onto his lap.

Yep. I settled on top of his obviously hard c*ck like a reckless heroine from an erotic novel. Despite the barrier of his pants, I could feel all of its fullness.

He looked at me as if I were his favorite dessert. I was thrilled to be his crème brûlée tonight.

“If you keep moving like that,” he warned, “I’m going to forget every good intention I walked in here with.”

“I’m just trying to find the most strategic position,” I whispered, rocking gently against him.

Julian took a deep breath, his jaw tightening. “The house is dark because my daughter’s sleeping over at her friend’s place. Which means we’re alone tonight.”

I nodded, slipping my hand inside the collar of his blazer. “Which means you’ve officially run out of excuses not to drag me into your bed.”

He stared at me for a long moment. “I just want to be sure this is what you want.”

In one smooth motion, I pulled off my blouse and tossed it into the back seat. My black lace bra followed. The night air kissed my skin, but Julian’s gaze burned hotter than anything.

He touched me. It starts off pretty mild. Then the teasing would start. Then it gets absolutely wild.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured before lowering his head and taking one of my n*ppl*s into his mouth.

I writhed against him, moaning softly. My hips rocked against his c*ck, desperate for friction. My breath came in shallow gasps.

“Julian… please…”

“Please what?” he asked quietly, his teeth grazing my skin.

“Take me inside. Now.”

Julian stopped. He looked straight at me. Then he smiled, like a demon who knew I was about to sin and was certain I would enjoy every second of it.

“Show me how bad you need it.”

I wasn’t playing around. My hand slipped under my leggings, finding heat and wetness that even surprised me. I pulled my fingers out, glistening, and brought them to his mouth.

Julian licked them slowly, one by one.

“Sweet,” he murmured. “But I want more.”

He held me firmly in place. “Touch yourself. Show me.”

My hand moved again. Two fingers slid inside while my thumb circled my cl*t. My breath fractured. One hand gripped his shoulder like a lifeline.

F*ck. I was losing my mind.

I moaned, whispering his name. My whole body tensed as the orgasm ripped through me, hard and fast.

I collapsed against his shoulder, trembling. “Satisfied?”

Julian chuckled. “Not even close. But I enjoyed the preview.”

He opened the door, stepped out, and lifted me like I weighed nothing. My legs wrapped instinctively around his waist.

“Julian, I’m topless,” I hissed.

He glanced at me. “I know. That’s literally the only reason I’m still breathing.”

We entered the house without turning on the lights, the dim glow from the porch guiding his steps. But he walked like he knew every inch of this space.

And maybe, just maybe, I’d regret not letting him wreck me tonight.

The living room light flicked on. I braced for the chill against my bare skin. But what stole my breath wasn’t the temperature. It was what was waiting on the couch.

A pair of handcuffs, a black silk tie, and a single note.

“Still want to play, Isla?” Julian whispered in my ear—right before he slammed the door shut.

***

I should’ve run. My brain was definitely sending out red flag alarms. But my body? It took a step forward instead.

Julian didn’t say a word. He just placed his car keys on the table, loosened the tie around his neck, and looked at me: long and hard, without blinking. A look that made my skin feel like it was slowly catching fire from the soles of my feet to the back of my neck.

“Don’t worry,” he finally said, voice low and smooth. “I won’t touch you without permission. But if you walk into my house half-naked, still catching your breath from the orgasm you just had in my car, I’m guessing you won’t mind.”

I took a deep breath. Alright. I might've been a bit bothered. My reluctance wasn’t due to fear, but to an overwhelming desire.

“Is that always sitting out in the living room?” I asked, nodding toward the handcuffs. My voice was almost steady.

Julian gave a small smile. “Only when I bring home trouble.”

I wasn’t sure if I should feel flattered or cornered. But the second he stepped closer and placed his hand on my hip, all logic went out the window.

He didn’t rush. Julian moved like a man who knew he could take control whenever he wanted. His hand slid slowly over my skin. His wide palm exploring my stomach, gliding up my ribs, stopping just beneath my breast.

“Three rules,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. “One, you can say stop anytime. Two, I won’t hurt you… unless you ask me to. Three, if you lie about what you like…”

He leaned in, his lips nearly brushing my neck. “I’ll know.”

My breath hitched. “Noted.”

“Good girl.”

F*ck. Just two words and my knees nearly gave out.

He turned me slowly, positioning me to face the couch. Goosebumps scattered down my back as his fingertips traced the length of my spine.

“Lean forward.”

I obeyed, bracing my hands against the top of the sofa.

I could hear metal. A tie being pulled loose, handcuffs lifted. But I didn’t look.

All I could feel was my heart pounding like a war drum in my chest.

“Hands,” he said simply.

I lifted them. A second later, the cold bite of metal wrapped around my wrists. Then the soft fabric of his tie followed, securing me to the back of the couch.

I was trapped, bound, and exposed

“Still okay?” he asked.

“Better than okay,” I replied, voice shaky but honest.

Julian chuckled softly and planted a kiss on my back. A playful nibble on my shoulder blade elicited a loud moan from me.

His large hands moved to my waist, slowly tugging my leggings down, like he wanted to drive me insane. I heard his breath hitch when he saw me bare beneath them, nothing in the way.

“I like a woman who shows up without panties.”

“Efficient,” I murmured.

Then his fingers slid over my p*ssy. Just one stroke, and my whole body locked up.

“Still wet,” he murmured. “Perfect.”

I whimpered and cried out at the same time as his tongue replaced his fingers—warm, wet, and relentless.

Julian wasn’t playing around. He licked like a man who didn’t just want to make me feel good—he wanted to make me addicted.

“Oh my God, Julian…”

“Shhh.” His voice was low, controlled. “Good girls don’t scream unless I say so.”

Holy f*ck*ng hell.

His tongue kept working me over. Two fingers slid in, steady and skilled. His rhythm was flawless: no rush, no hesitation. And I was right there, dangling on the edge.

But just before I tipped over that edge, he stopped.

I looked up at him, desperate. “You’re kidding me!”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he stood and slowly unbuckled his belt: enough to make me bite my lip in anticipation.

He slid his pants and boxers down, revealing a part of him that—dear God.

That c*ck was not for beginners. It looked like a warning sign dressed as temptation.

He stared at me, eyes intense. “Last chance, Isla. Tell me to stop now… or I won’t stop at all.”

I met his gaze without a single ounce of doubt. “Then don’t f*ck*ng stop.”

Julian smiled, then thrust into me hard, deep, and all at once, making me gasp and clutch the fabric of the sofa.

He didn’t give me time to adjust. His movements were slow but deep. And every movement sent shivers rippling through my entire body.

“I can feel you pulsing every time I say your name,” he whispered against my ear. “Do you even know how f*ck*ng beautiful you sound when you fall apart?”

I could barely respond. My breathing turned into moans, and when the second orgasm hit, I screamed, not caring who heard me.

But before I could catch my breath, before the tremors in my body even began to fade, Julian pulled out completely and stepped back.

I blinked up at him, dazed. “What the—?”

He loosened the tie binding me, then leaned in to whisper in my ear, “Round two’s not on the sofa, Isla.”

He scooped me up effortlessly, and my legs instinctively wrapped around his hips. My skin was still burning, and my breathing was still ragged.

“Where?” I asked, part trembling, part wildly curious.

Julian glanced toward the stairs. “Somewhere quieter. Where I can hear every sound you make when I ruin you.”

And before I could say another word, he carried me upstairs. To a bedroom that turned out to be anything but ordinary.