My Accidental Billionaire Husband (Katia and Julian) novel Chapter 211

No Place to Re

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No Place to Run

-Katia-

The shift in the mattress was the first thing that brought me out of sleep. It wasn’t a gradual waking; it was the sudden, sharp alarm of a presence in a room that was supposed to be completely locked down. I pulled back instantly, my heart hammering against my ribs, but before I could even scramble off the sheet, a heavy, solid arm wrapped around my waist.

He pulled me back against his chest, his skin hot and completely bare against my back.

“I told you,” Julian’s voice rasped in the quiet of my bedroom, his breath brushing the nape of my neck. “I sleep where you sleep, Kitten.”

I stilled. My breath hitched in my throat, my mind racing as I tried to process the sheer impossibility of him being here. I was in my Brooklyn penthouse. The security was state–of–the–art. The doorman below was supposed to screen every single person. Yet, Julian Windsor was naked in my bed, holding me like he had simply walked through a door that belonged to him.

I slowly turned in his hold. I faced him in the dark, my eyes straining to adjust to the shadows. I could see the silhouette of his face–the sharp line of his jaw, his dark eyes locked onto mine with a steady, unblinking intensity.

I was still looking at him, wondering how he had walked past security. I didn’t know he had spent weeks quietly rearranging my world behind my back. All I knew was the physical reality of him lying next to me.

He was completely naked. As I shifted, the heavy weight of his cock pressed directly against my bare thigh under the duvet. It was already fully hard, hot and thick, poking persistently at my skin. The sheer size of him made my stomach do a nervous, tight flip. My pussy, still tender and swollen from the way he had ravished me the night before, throbbed in immediate response.

I swallowed. The sound was loud in the silent room.

“Julian, I…”

I didn’t finish what I wanted to say. The protest died in my throat. I wanted to tell him to leave. I wanted to remind him of the fact that I was supposed to be searching for my husband. But the words wouldn’t come.

He didn’t give me the chance to find them anyway. Julian claimed my lips, his mouth crashing down on mine with a heavy, demanding pressure. He shifted his weight, sliding his leg over mine and rolling until he was completely on top of me, pinning me to the mattress under the massive weight of his torso.

Ilet out a low, ragged moan into the kiss. My tongue tangled with his automatically, my mouth opening for him without my brain’s permission. I didn’t know why I couldn’t say no to Julian Windsor. f new exactly who he was. He was my sister’s husband, a forbidden man, a Windsor.

would Every logical part of my brain screamed that this was a disaster, that I was digging myself into a hole I would never be able to climb out of. Yet, here I was. I wasn’t pushing his chest. I wasn’t fighting his weight. I was kissing him back, my lips parting eagerly under his, my hands rising to grip his broad shoulders.

Julian’s hand was already sliding down between our bodies. His fingers were thick and calloused as they found the entrance of my pussy. I gasped into his mouth as his touch made contact with my wetness. I was already damp, my body betraying my conflict the moment his skin touched mine. He found my clit with his thumb and began to rub it in slow, heavy circular motions. It was intense. He continued to kiss me deeply, his tongue sliding in and out of my mouth in a rhythm that matched the steady, relentless movement of his thumb against my clit. I arched my back slightly, my thighs parting wider to give his hand more room. I was shaking already, the tight ache between my legs building with every stroke of his thumb. He was preparing me, working my own juices over my swollen clit until I was slick and aching for the weight of him.

Slowly, Julian lifted his chest slightly, resting his weight on his elbows while his dark eyes stayed locked on mine in the dim light. I looked up at him, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

He positioned himself. The broad, blunt head of his hard, thick cock pressed directly against my opening. He didn’t rush. He didn’t shove his way in. He stayed there for a second, letting me feel the sheer width of him stretching my entrance.

No Place to Ra

Then, he slowly slid into me.

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I took a sharp breath, my fingers digging deep into the muscles of his back as he pushed forward. He went in inch by inch, the slow, agonizing stretch Tug me completely. It felt like he was taking up every empty space inside me, his thick shaft widening my tight walls until they clamped down around him like a vice. I took back his lips, kissing him with a sudden, desperate hunger as I wrapped my legs around his waist, locking my ankles behind his back to pull him deeper.

He drove in until his hips slammed flat against mine, burying his entire length inside me.

I let out a choked cry against his mouth. He was so deep I could feel the throb of his cock right against my cervix. We stayed completely still like that for several seconds. Julian didn’t move; he just let me hold him, letting my tight pussy adjust to the massive stretch of his cock. I could feel his heart hammering against my chest, his breath hot and ragged against my cheek.

“Julian,” I whispered, the sound broken and wet.

“I have you, Katia,” he growled.

He began to move.

It was slow lovemaking. He didn’t fuck me with the wild, angry speed of last night. This was like a marking. He pulled nearly all the way out, until only the head of his cock was teasing my entrance, and then he slowly slid back in, letting me feel every single vein and ridge of his shaft dragging against my sensitive walls.

I moaned, my head thrashing against the pillow as he repeated the motion. The slow friction was a different kind of torture. It allowed me to feel the exact dimension of him, the sheer weight of what he was doing to me. Every time he buried himself deep, my pussy clenched around him in tight, involuntary spasms, trying to hold him inside.

Julian reached down, his hands gripping my waist with a firm, bruising hold. He pinned my hips to the mattress, controlling the angle of every slow, heavy thrust. He kept the pace steady, refusing to let the building heat speed him up. He wanted to savor every slide, wanted me to feel every inch of his claim.

“You’re so tight,” he hissed against my ear, his chest slick with sweat as he pushed deep inside me again. “So fucking wet for me, Kitten.”

“Please, Julian,” I sobbed, my hips tilting up to meet him, trying to force a faster pace. I wanted the hard, fast pounding to drown out the sheer, overwhelming intimacy of the way he was looking at me.

“No,” he whispered, his mouth finding the sensitive spot right below my ear and biting down gently. “Slow. I want you to feel every bit of this; you are mine.”

He continued the slow, deep strokes. I was completely undone under him. My hands moved down his back, my fingers tracing the hard line of his spine before wrapping around his glutes, trying to pull him even deeper. Every thrust made my thighs shake. The friction of his thick cock sliding through my heavy wetness was creating a burning, tight sensation that was rapidly centering in my clit.

He reached up, his hand sliding over my stomach to find my breast. He gripped it, his thumb flicking my nipple until it was a hard, sensitive peak, before he leaned down and took it into his mouth. He sucked me deep, his tongue swirling around the nipple in a wet, heavy rhythm that matched the slow, agonizing slide of his cock inside my pussy.

The dual sensation was too much. I saw stars behind my eyelids. My vision blurred as the internal pressure reached a breaking point. My pussy began to clench and unclench around his shaft, the tight muscles pulsing in a series of desperate, rhythmic

spasms.

“Julian… I’m going to cum,” I cried out, my nails scratching into his shoulders.

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