The Secret Guest
The tension between Julian and me had been simmering since the moment he arrived. After our electric encounter in the shower the day before, every glance across the dinner table felt like a dare. I could see the hunger in his eyes, a mirror of the desperate longing I felt deep in my chest.
When the rest of the family finally left the house, I retreated to my room, pretending to nap. I lay face down on the bed, my heart drumming against my ribs. I didn’t hear him enter, but I felt his warm, heavy presence shift the mattress. His hands—strong and sure—cupped my backside, and I gasped as he pressed his body firmly against mine.
He leaned down, his breath hot against my ear. ‘I’ve been thinking about this all day,’ he whispered, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down my spine. He didn’t wait for an answer, his lips finding the sensitive skin of my neck while his hand slid beneath the hem of my silk slip, claiming me with a possessive urgency that left me breathless.