He knew her motives were questionable.
He knew she wanted to use him.
Yet he couldn't resist the temptation.
He was like prey destined to fall into a trap.
Compared to being tied up and taken passively, having the freedom to position her on her knees on the couch and take her from behind was a far better experience.
With every thrust, his possessiveness towards this woman grew.
Why was there a woman like this?
You take her.
You want to possess more of her.
You enter her depths, her very core.
You want to have her completely.
You want not just her body, but her heart too.
"My... my waist, it's so sore and weak..." Even on her knees, she couldn't hold the position any longer.
The boy who looked clean and gentle was deadly in bed.
Each thrust threatened to send her flying.
After a while, her waist felt as if it was about to break.
Julian Sullivan turned her over and laid her on the couch.
He parted her legs and entered her again from the front.
His powerful hips moved back and forth.
His thick, hard member plunged deep into her tight warmth.
Isabella Roscente's face was flushed with pleasure.
Her soft, seductive moans were like a cat in heat.
Julian lowered his head, pressing his forehead against hers.
He kissed her cheeks, her nose, and then her lips.
He traced the shape of her lips with his.
His tongue explored every part of her mouth, tangling with hers, sharing their essence.
She was breathless from his kiss.
She was close to climax again from his movements.
Her tightness clenched around him.
He had been taking her for almost an hour.
He couldn't hold back any longer.
He breathed heavily in her ear and asked, "Can I... come?"
Isabella found him adorable for asking.
She kissed his lips.
"Yes, come inside me."
Julian held her and made his final, fierce thrusts.
After dozens of powerful movements, he held her tightly as they climaxed together.
Several pulses of his release filled her deepest parts.
He lay on top of her, his face buried in her neck.
Tears streamed down his cheeks.
It wasn't from guilt or betrayal, but from satisfaction.
He felt that this was how it should always be between them.
They were meant to be joined.
She was his, and he was hers.
After a while, Isabella pushed him gently.
"I need to clean up."
Julian got up, but Isabella couldn't.
She frowned.
"My legs are weak. I need to rest before going up to wash."
"Let me carry you." Julian bent down, scooped her up into his arms, and carried her towards the stairs.
As they ascended, their eyes met.
The atmosphere grew awkward.
Isabella slightly turned her head away.
Julian lowered his head and gently bumped his forehead against hers.
He found it amusing.
She was the one who seduced him.
Wasn't it a bit late for awkwardness now?
Upstairs, Julian carried her directly into the bathroom attached to her bedroom.
This room used to be his.
A year ago, his brother Alexander had called him.
He asked if Isabella could have his room.
His things were moved to the third floor.
He had agreed.
He was curious about his future sister-in-law and had even asked Alexander to send a photo.
Now, he had just slept with her.
He pushed away the useless guilt.
He picked up the showerhead to help Isabella clean up.
He didn't recall being particularly rough.
Yet red marks were visible on her jade-like skin.
Mostly on her shoulders and lower back.
He gently rinsed those areas with warm water.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."
"It's fine. They'll fade soon. They won't leave marks," she said.
Julian looked at her, startled.
Was she just saying that casually, or was she reassuring him that his brother wouldn't find out?
"You—"
Isabella lowered her eyes, pressed her lips together, and remained silent.
She took the showerhead from him, turned her back, and quickly washed herself.
She handed the showerhead back to him.
"You wash up."
She walked out of the bathroom.
Julian cleaned himself and walked into the bedroom.
Isabella was sitting on the edge of the bed.
Seeing him, she handed him a bathrobe.
He took it and put it on.
She was also wearing a white bathrobe.
Her hair was still damp.
Her gaze was calm as she looked at him.
"Come sit with me, please."
Julian walked over and sat beside her.
After a moment of silence, Isabella spoke.
"Don't worry. I won't let him find out. I just—"
"The leverage he holds over me is my son, Jacob."
Julian was taken aback.
Isabella became more emotional.
"I want you to help me find my son, to save him. I haven't seen him in a year. I don't know if he's okay. Please, will you help me?"
Julian hadn't expected this.
So, his brother Alexander had taken Isabella's child and was using him to keep her by his side?
He looked at Isabella, tears glistening in her eyes.
He wondered if she realized the full implication of her request.
Finding Jacob was one thing.
But what next?
Would he have to oppose his brother to help her escape his control?
To help her and her son leave?
Could he do that?
"That day I took you to the hospital, you mentioned the name Daniel Grant. Who was he?" he asked.
"He was my husband. He died in an accident a year ago. Soon after, Alexander Sullivan took me and Jacob. He separated us. He's been using Jacob to threaten me, never letting me see him. If this continues, I'll go mad..." Tears of pain fell from Isabella's eyes.
Julian was silent.
How desperate must a widowed mother be to resort to seducing him for help?
And he had taken the bait.
Now that things had come to this, he couldn't abandon her.
Regardless of what came next, he had to find Jacob first.
"Alright. I'll help you find your child," he agreed.
Isabella wept with relief and threw her arms around him.
"Thank you, Julian! Thank you!"