Page 16 of Just Like You (Square Mile Rogues #2)

Julian

I hadn’t lied when I’d said he knew what he was doing and, despite me again having failed to get myself douched and prepared, I was now spread eagle down on the bed, my legs so wide apart that I was getting cramps, yet I was too blissed out to care.

Because he had his tongue up my arse, and his large hands spreading my arse cheeks apart, and he was humming in between every prod at my insides.

Lapping me up as I yelped and whined and spasmed and struggled to find a position where he could get deeper.

“Love how you taste. So bloody hot. ”

“I hope you haven’t got any chilli on your tongue. Those skewers were covered in them.”

He laughed softly.

“Spicy.”

“Spicy arse is no fun. Trust me.”

“Speaking from experience, Julian?”

He rose up, and I turned around so I was lying on my back, revelling in watching him remove his clothes. That broad, hairy chest on him. The firm stomach. His cock standing proud and erect as he just smiled.

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

“I’m nothing like you. No hair, not a hint of muscle, and I’m small and skinny.”

“Nothing bad about that. You’re just who you are, and I think you’re stunning.”

“Why me?” I sounded like a kid, but he stood himself up next to the bed and stepped out of the last of his clothes.

“Because I looked at you, and you saw me. You didn’t care who I was, you saw through all the…

I don’t know. What did you call it? Masking?

You saw me. And then you called me out, and you were just so strong and defiant, and I just wanted to wrap you up and hold you and apologise for being a dick and…

and…then things happened and you let me and it just felt…

Everything felt right. I’d never had that feeling before, so… ”

“ You’re running with it.”

“I am,” he said, with a confident smile. “And…”

He walked over to his bag, and that familiar pang of anticipation once again hit.

Like I had no idea what he was about to do with me.

All I knew was that I was loose and relaxed, and I would gladly have taken him.

Raw. Irresponsible. I wanted him inside me, and more than anything, I wanted to feel full and wanted and loved and desired…

“Pull your knees up, Julian. Show me that arse.”

I shoved a pillow under my back and did as I was told. Held myself up as he produced a tube of lube. Smeared it all over me, and then over…

Shit.

A dildo. Not too big, but it had a curved tip. Oh God. My dick? Having a party down there bouncing against my stomach. Him? He just smiled, coating the dildo in a generous amount of lube, before getting back on the bed, on his knees. Putting himself in position between my legs.

“Be good for me, Julian. Open up that pretty little hole for me.”

He pushed the tip against my opening.

The anticipation made me gasp.

He pushed. I clenched.

“Julian,” he warned.

“Do it,” I panted out.

“Not going to hurt you. Relax. Open your hole for me.”

He pushed again. Oh. Oh God. I was so turned on I couldn’t even control my muscles. Clenching and relaxing and spasming as he pushed the cool dildo inside me.

“Halfway in, Julian. Just relax.”

“Trying to.”

I was tugging at my cock, his mouth now kissing the inside of my leg.

My balls. My groin. His hand pushing the dildo a little further inside of me with every kiss.

My insides screaming as my stomach muscles clenched, my heels digging into the bed, trying to do anything. Everything. Pushing. Pulling.

“Almost in. I’m going to give you a few little thrusts. Good?”

“Do it,” I panted, my forehead suddenly beading with sweat. I hadn’t expected this. I’d expected a quick drunken fuck, the alcohol having flowed. We’d probably polished off a bottle each, alongside the one we’d shared on the beach before dinner. It had been lovely. Such a calm…insightful… Fuck.

The dildo was moving inside of me. He was doing something with it, and I was shivering all over. The movements were slow and careful, but oh God. I liked this.

“Yes,” I hissed.

“Good?”

“Fuck. ”

“You’re getting fucked, Julian. You’ll even get my cock if you’re good.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

I wasn’t proud, but my mouth suddenly screamed.

Sounds bellowing out of my mouth, as the dildo?

It vibrated. Not just slowly and gently, it was rotating and vibrating and working my insides into a frenzy.

My hips were off the bed, my legs jerking as his hand was on my stomach, trying to hold me in place.

His other hand? Was operating this tool-of-the-devil that was making my insides erupt into some kind of volcanic orgasmic seizure-like bliss.

Yeah. I came. Right there and then, as he laughed gently from below my legs.

“Not funny!” I shouted.

“So, I’m not the only one who has trouble going for more than a couple of minutes.”

“I didn’t even get your dick inside of me! I feel cheated!”

I was shouting, my hand still holding on to my spent dick, like I was trying to reprimand it for its behaviour. I was better than this. And what the hell? And I sighed in relief as he pulled the dildo out and put it on the bed. On a towel. Like he’d prepared all this. Oh Kieron.

“I know you’re all sensitive down there, but I’m going to fuck you now. You’re all loose and relaxed; a few good thrusts, and then I’m going to come inside of you. ”

“Ki.”

“Yes.”

“Are you on PreP and all that? Anything I should know?”

“We’re not going raw. No, Julian. I don’t want to risk anything.”

“I’m… I’m not…”

“I don’t care. I’m not putting you at risk. One day, maybe. But not now.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” I asked as he expertly rolled a condom on.

“No. I’m negative and tested, and I do look after my health. I’m on PreP. I’m not an idiot.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

“Here we go.”

He wasn’t kidding, and my arse was loose and ready, but I was so over-sensitised that even my nipples hurt.

The lovely breeze from the ceiling fan was suddenly too much.

The heat everywhere as he slowly filled me up.

Him. Inside me, taking up every millimetre of space.

Full. Stretched. My mouth gasping for breath as he finally bottomed out.

His arms on either side of my head as he leaned down.

“Not going to kiss you. My mouth has been up your arse. ”

“I don’t care,” I mumbled as I pulled him in. Kissed the taste of me straight out of his mouth. Dirty. Bloody dirty, but at that moment? I needed this. I needed my legs to clasp around his waist, his thrusts into me sudden and violent, and the sounds that were coming out of my mouth?

I was lost. So bloody lost in everything that this was. The feeling of being so incredibly owned. Loved. I used that word in my head because it belonged there. I could feel it, and I could feel a future that I didn’t want, and I knew, with everything that I was, that this would one day end.

In two days.

Because we would fly back home and I would return to my life, and he would go back to work, and there were no guarantees that if, and IF was a big thing here, I agreed to see him again, that anything would be as good as this.

His mouth fused with mine. His cock ramming inside me as he tried to scream into my mouth. I could feel it, the way his body tensed up and where everything stopped. Just for a few seconds, as he filled the condom inside of me.

I wanted him.

That was terrifying because I’d been here before. I’d had all these feelings, and they had never led anywhere but to a place I didn’t want to revisit.

Heartbreak. Sadness. Longing. Wondering what had gone wrong. Blaming myself .

The end. It was nowhere I wanted to ever be again. Yet here I was, and Kieron Andrieu would take my poor heart and smash it into pieces if I didn’t put a stop to this.

“You’re everything,” he whispered, his nose against mine. Our eyes closed. His breathing too fast. Mine too deep.

“Ki,” I said. I had no more words.

“Julian,” he whispered.

We didn’t speak again. He removed the condom and buried his face in my neck.

Me? I lay there with my hand fisting the hair on his head, and my other hand? It covered my eyes as I silently sobbed.

Because this?

Shit.

Bloody hell.

No. Please. No.

And then, just like that, I awoke in the morning to his breath on my face. Then he fucked me awake and fed me toast, making me cups of perfect tea until my head was clear enough to get myself showered and cleaned up enough that he could make me take a dip in the sea.

A make-believe existence, where the days blended into one another and food was placed in my mouth and where I had no control anymore.

No ability to say no to any of his ludicrous suggestions.

He wanted me to come around and spend the weekend at his house.

Go see a show. Take me out for dinner. Did I have any more fun trips he could come along to?

He’d always wanted to go to Japan. China. Did we fly to Hawaii?

His enthusiasm was infectious, and I went along with it all because I wanted it. Believed in it, even though I knew deep down that it was all just a fantasy. A childish illusion that would inevitably break.

The panic in me kept rising and rising, yet at the same time? I was so incredibly calm. Numb with feelings to the point that when I ran into two of my crew at reception, I could barely remember their names, let alone my own.

A nauseating haze, where on the one hand, I wanted this to end. Shake off all the weirdness so I could just piece myself back together. On the other hand, I wanted to stay here forever and make this tiny hotel room on the beach, my forever home.

Yes. I was delusional. My body was screaming for him when he wasn’t by my side, which he was, most of the time. He took a few phone calls inside, but the rest of the time we sipped water on the beach. Sat in the shade, and I would play with his fingers as he stroked my hair.

It was sickening, I knew that.

Awful. Horrifying behaviour.

Then he sat next to me on the transfer back to the airport, chatting excitedly to someone’s sister and discussing the weather and sun and the state of his sunburnt legs .

I was bringing him back home, but the thought of leaving him behind made my heart ache.

I couldn’t understand why. I should have been relieved that he would disappear, allowing me to breathe, because I couldn’t make sense of who I’d become. Like he’d made me drink his hallucinogenic tea and I’d just morphed into a completely different person.

It was completely normal to bring a friend away on a short break. To share a room. It was absolutely acceptable to fuck all weekend and then…simply call it a day.

Which was what I’d have to do.

Make the cut before I bled out.

I’d just have to.

He sat quietly in his economy seat all the way home, shooting me a small smile every time I passed by.

He was watching my every move, and I even though didn’t mind, it made me twitchy.

I couldn’t explain it. The truth a constant noise at the back of my mind.

I couldn’t explain anything. Everything was messed up and unthinkable and entwined in something I didn’t want to think about. Who I was, and what this made me.

And as he walked off the plane in London? He shook my hand. Winked. And told me he’d see me in a bit.

He wouldn’t. I snuck out the side entrance, bypassing the area where he’d probably be waiting. I let him go, gently, by simply not being there at all.

I never turned my phone on. Just went to my car and stood there, wondering where on earth I’d put my car keys four days ago. I had no idea. Couldn’t remember as I patted down my pockets and unzipped all the compartments of my bags.

And there it was. His Patek watch, sat there in the outside pocket of my bag, like a shiny, perfect resolution to my childish behaviour.

I picked it up and just held it in my hand. Closed my fingers over it, hoping I could just crush it. Destroy it. Make the last couple of days just disappear.

Life didn’t work that way, and with that thought? I burst into tears.