Let Them Kneel (kaelani and Julian) novel Chapter 20

She scoffed, “That’s it? No hello, no I missed you?” She slid onto the edge of his desk, crossing her legs slowly, deliberately. “You’ve barely spent any time with me since I got here.”

“You know I’ve been working.” He barely glanced up, shuffling a stack of reports so she wouldn't see the restless twitch in his fingers.

Her perfect, manicured nails tapped against the wood, a soft staccato. “You’re always working. You think I don’t notice you disappearing here night after night? Do you plan on sleeping in this office forever?”

Her tone sharpened, but there was a flicker of something else underneath—hurt, not just anger. She slid into his lap without warning, draping her arms around his shoulders as if daring him to push her away. Her lips grazed his jaw as she whispered, “Stop working for one night. Be with me.”

Julian’s hands caught her waist. He tried—really tried—to let her presence spark something. She shifted closer, her robe parting just enough that her thigh pressed bare against him. Her scent filled the space—roses—wrapping around him like a net.

Julian lowered a hand, fingers slipping beneath the thin fabric between her thighs. She inhaled sharply, lips parting as she arched against him. “Julian…” she whispered, hopeful.

Her breath hitched as his fingers moved against her, already finding her slick and eager for him. She shivered, her hips tilting forward, a soft moan slipping past her lips. Her body still melted under his touch, still craved him with the same easy hunger it always had.

But for Julian, there was nothing. No spark of desire, no tightening heat in his gut. The wet heat under his hand should have driven him wild, should have hardened him instantly the way it used to. Instead, he felt detached, moving his fingers with remembered precision, as though performing a routine. Mechanical. Hollow. His wolf growled below the surface, offended by the pretense.

Elara gasped, grinding into his hand, but after a moment her pleasure faltered. Slowly, her lashes lifted, her eyes opening to search his face. The distance in him was impossible to miss.

“What’s with you lately?” She whispered, a hint of frustration curling through the softness of her voice. “Do you not find me attractive anymore?”

His hand stilled, resting against her thigh, Elara’s question lingering sharp between them. He looked up, meeting her eyes—bright, expectant, searching.

“Of course I find you attractive,” he said, the words quiet, deliberate. He brushed his thumb across her inner thigh as if to prove it.

Elara wasn’t convinced, her eyes narrowing. “Are you fucking someone else?”

Julian drew in a long breath, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

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