Chapter 3: In His Bed, In My Head

ISLA'S POV

Mirrors don’t lie.

I stood in front of it, wrapped in nothing but a towel. Kisses and bites covered my neck, chest, waist, and thighs. It was as if someone had rewritten my body. Like he’d claimed every inch of it.

And maybe I was his now, Julian Wolfe’s.

One night with him, and I didn’t even recognize the version of myself from before. He didn’t just satisfy my body. He peeled away every layer of the persona I wore like armor.

And the worst part? I let him.

“Morning.” That deep, husky voice came from behind me.

I turned on instinct. Oh, God… he was naked. And his morning wood was standing tall like a threat I desperately wanted to surrender to.

Our eyes met in the mirror. He smirked that gazes dark, intense, and full of promise. This man didn’t just know what he wanted. He knew exactly how to take it and make me grateful for giving in.

Without a word, he stepped closer. His heat pressed against my back. One big hand wrapped around my waist, sliding upward to cup my breast gently, then a little firmer.

“Still sore?” he murmured against my neck.

I gave a small nod, cheeks flushing.

He chuckled softly. “Good.”

One of his hands slid down between my thighs, pressing gently through the towel.

“Say it, Isla. What do you want?”

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I knew the answer. But my lips refused to work.

He tightened his grip on my breast. “I said, tell me.”

I held my breath, then whispered, barely audible, “I want you to f*ck me against the mirror.”

Julian locked eyes with me in the reflection, then smiled like the devil hearing his favorite filthiest prayer.

In one swift move, he tugged the towel off my body and let it fall to the floor. His hand pressed gently on my lower back.

“Hands on the sink. Arch your back.”

I obeyed without thinking. My body knew before my mind could even catch up.

He leaned in, kissing a slow trail down my spine. Then his fingers slipped between my legs.

“Still wet for me?”

I bit my lip. “Test it.”

A low laugh rumbled from his chest. Two fingers slid in, unexpected. My body trembled against the cold marble counter.

“You’re soaked, love.” Julian gave my *ss a playful slap. “You like being watched?”

I nodded slowly, teeth sinking into my lower lip.

“Then keep your eyes on the mirror.”

His c*ck slid in slowly, filling me in a way that made my stomach twist with pleasure.

I bit down harder on my lip, nearly drawing blood. He started to move, his rhythm building with every second. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the bathroom. Our breathing turned ragged, wild, uneven.

In the middle of it all, he said my name: low, possessive, reverent. His s*xy British accent slipping through as he claimed complete control over every inch of me.

“Look at you. Taking all of me. You love it, don’t you?”

I nodded quickly. “Yes. God, yes.”

He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back. “Say it properly.”

“I love being f*ck*d by you,” I gasped, breathless.

Julian let out a low, satisfied chuckle. “Such a good girl.”

He picked up the pace, thrusting harder. Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, he suddenly pulled out.

“Julian!” I cried, the emptiness unbearable.

He dropped to his knees behind me. “Shh. I’m not done yet.”

His hot tongue replaced where his c*ck had been. He licked up every drop of our pleasure, then wrapped his lips around my cl*t and s*ck*d until I was nearly collapsing. His muscular hands kept my hips in place.

When the orgasm hit, it ripped through me like a jolt of electricity. My whole body shook, warmth flooding down my legs. But he didn’t stop.

Only after the third climax crashed through me did, he finally rose. Julian wrapped his arms around my trembling body and carried me out of the bathroom.

He laid me down on the bed, looking at me like he was composing poetry from the cracks in my body.

“Isla…”

“Hm?”

“There’s a lot you still don’t know about me.”

I opened my eyes. “Like what?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stood, walked to a locked cabinet, and pulled out a wooden box.

He placed it on the bed and slid it toward me. “Open it.”

My hands trembled as I lifted the lid. Inside were ropes, a small wooden block, strips of fabric, and a thin necklace with a metal pendant.

I stared at him, unblinking. “What does this mean?”

Julian leaned down. “That’s a collar, Isla.”

I froze, lips parted. But before I could speak, his dark gaze sliced straight through whatever defenses I had left.

“If you wear that, you’re mine. Completely. No pretending. No feelings. Just in bed.”

The breath caught in my throat. But d*mn it, my body trembled with a dangerous kind of curiosity that was ready to explode.

***

“I work at Mode magazine,” I said as I slowly chewed the sandwich Julian made.

He sat across the kitchen table, wearing nothing but low-hanging gray sweatpants. His broad chest and sculpted abs were easily the best view of the morning.

“As a stylist?” he asked, flashing a teasing smile.

I nodded, my fingers brushing the collar around my neck—a gift from him last night for being a good girl. I braced myself for the usual mockery that followed whenever I talked about my career.

“No wonder your style’s kinda out there,” he teased.

I smacked his arm. “It’s called making a statement! That cape is fashion, okay?”

“That cape is superhero cosplay,” he shot back, chuckling. “But hey, do you like working there?”

I nodded quickly, my excitement bubbling over. It was the first time anyone had actually asked me twice about my passion.

“I love it. But my real dream? Working at a fashion house. Styling window displays, runways, collaborating directly with designers.”

The words poured out of me, completely unfiltered. And the second they were out, regret followed.

Every time I shared my passion, all I got were judgmental looks. Or backhanded comments about how I should’ve been a model instead of working behind-the-scenes for a low paycheck.

But Julian didn’t look at me like that. He didn’t laugh. He didn’t scoff.

“Good for you,” he said with a firm nod. “I work in retail: some brands, a few department stores. Visual displays are a major marketing tool. I like women who are passionate about their work.”

I stared at him for a long moment because that simple sentence made my eyes sting.

Finally, someone who really listened.

Without thinking, I jumped into his lap. I didn’t even know why I kissed his cheek, his jaw, and then his neck. I just couldn’t stop myself.

“What’s this about?” he laughed.

I just grinned. “Nothing. I just wanted to kiss you.”

He raised an eyebrow, then pointed toward his bedroom. “Are you done eating?”

“Why?”

“I need you to try something new.”

I smirked. “Daddy needs me?”

Julian groaned. “Okay, last night it was a kind of hot. But hearing you say it when you’re fully awake? Honestly, it’s messing with me.”

I whispered into his ear, sweet and teasing, “Please take care of me, Daddy…”

He stood up suddenly, lifting me into his arms and carrying me to his bedroom. “Say it one more time, and you're gonna regret it.”

I met his gaze, full of challenge. “Yes, Daddy.”

The rest of the weekend was a blur of heat, limbs, and the toys he so confidently brought out.

Julian was dominant in ways that fulfilled fantasies I didn’t even realize I had.

But the moment I walked out of his place, it hit me—I didn’t even have a way to contact him.

A weak body, wicked memories, and Julian’s name echoing in my mind were all that remained.