Twisted (Never After #4)(75)

Because regardless of how I feel right now and what just happened, it doesn’t change anything.

Not really.

Being his means letting go of everything else, and I’m just not willing to do that.

He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he nods against me, and then he’s gone, my body chilled from the loss of his touch.

I lie there for a long time, coming to terms with what just happened. And then slowly, I stand up, grabbing my ripped clothes off the rug and heading to my room.

I’m not sure what makes me do it, but I head straight to the burner phone, pick it up, and unlock the screen.

1 new notification.





My chest tightens as I open the text to reply to my lawyer.

Only the message isn’t from him.





Chapter 31





Yasmin





Things don’t look the same in the daylight.

That’s the first thought that crosses my mind when I wake up in a foreign room with silk sheets beneath me and the most comfortable mattress I’ve ever laid on.

It takes me a few seconds to come to fully, rubbing the sleep from my eyes to figure out where I am.

Sitting up in the bed, I look around, blinking.

This must be Julian’s room. It’s filled with sleek modern furniture, and this is the largest bed I’ve ever seen. It screams masculine yet lacks any defining personality.

I smirk at the thought but then quickly remember why I’m here and what happened last night, and the amusement drains away.

Did he move me here in the middle of the night?

It’s the only logical explanation, because I remember falling asleep in my own bed, my chest feeling like it was splitting in two from the conflicting emotions going on inside me.

I wonder if anyone else has ever had the pleasure of being in here, but the second the thought crosses my mind, my stomach cramps, so I push it away, convincing myself that I really don’t care.

The urge to jump out of his bed and snoop through his belongings is strong, but now it feels heavier, like there’s a bigger sense of betrayal somehow. Although after opening the burner phone last night and reading a message from Julian’s “employee,” snooping is low on the list of things I’ve done behind his back.

I know I should regret what happened, that I should be beating myself up and claiming it was a mistake, but the truth of the matter is that I don’t really regret it.

For the first time in my life, my mind was clear, my body was free, and all my problems disappeared. At least for a while. I felt safe. Cared for. Wanted. Desired. And that’s not to say I’ve never felt those feelings before, but having that type of attention from Julian Faraci is like being used to cloudy days and then being blasted by the sun.

I’m not sure how I’ll go back.

But I have to go back.

Just like everything else I should come to terms with but am choosing not to, I push the feeling down, ignoring it, deciding to enjoy the delicious strain of my sore muscles and the memory of what it felt like under his tongue.

Arousal heats me slowly from the inside out.

I stretch out in the bed, raising my hands above my head and sighing at the way it relieves the sleepy tension from my muscles. Then I push the covers off me completely, slipping out of the side of Julian’s bed and padding through the room until I hit his en suite.

Glancing around, I wonder if maybe he’s here, but there’s no sign of him, so I decide to make myself at home. He wouldn’t have brought me here if he wasn’t implying I had free rein to do what I wanted.

The second I see the master shower that takes up the entire length of the far wall, with multiple showerheads from a thousand different angles, I know I’m going to be using it.

I waste no time, stripping off my pajamas and making my way to the shower, turning on the water and watching with excitement as the multiple different showerheads light up and spray water.

There’s a main one, just like there is in my room, that sits on the ceiling, creating a rainfall effect on your head when you step under the spray. It has a removable head beneath it, attached to the shower wall. Beyond that, there are spouts on the sides, spraying from all directions. I’ve never experienced anything quite like it, and I’m immediately immersed in the sensory overload of it all, allowing the heat of the water to cascade over my skin and relax my body even more.

Rude of him to not tell me this shower was here the whole time.

There’s an automatic dispenser on the right-hand wall, and I reach my hand underneath, the smell of Julian’s soap filling the air. Closing my eyes, I hum under my breath as I start to wash my body, my breath hitching when I run my palms over my sensitive breasts. My mind starts flashing memories of the night before, how Julian’s hands moved me where he wanted like I was a doll there for his enjoyment. How he demanded things of me and held me down while he made me come, yet made every single second about my pleasure.

I never knew that being handled that way would be such a turn-on.

It’s always in the shower that visions of Julian make me want to come.

When I brush my fingers across my clit, a shudder racks my body. Slowly, I rub back and forth over my pussy again, a sharp sting of pain mixing with the pleasure when I pinch myself, trying to recreate the feeling from last night, but it falls short.