Please Come Back, My Love Chapter 27

Elena: POV

His free hand trailed down my side, fingers digging into my thigh, spreading me wider, exposing me more to his touch.

The steam-filled air felt heavier, my skin hypersensitive to every brush, every wave of water against us.

I whimpered, nails biting into his forearms, my core aching with unfulfilled tension.

The pressure mounted again, waves of heat pulsing through me, closer this time——but my mind flashed to all the pain he'd caused, pulling me back from the edge. *No, don't give in. Not to him.* Yet my body rebelled, arching into his hand, silent pleas escaping my lips.

"Julian—I'm... almost—" My voice was a ragged whisper, every muscle in my body coiling tighter, the world narrowing to his touch, his breath, the building storm inside me.

"I know." His fingers drove faster now, finally relentless, his grip on my breast tightening like a claim. "Let go for me, Elena. Let me feel you shatter."

The release finally crashed through me like a storm long held at bay, white-hot and unrelenting, ripping a cry from my throat.

It built in layers—first a deep, throbbing wave that made my toes curl, then exploding outward in shuddering pulses that left me gasping, boneless.

I screamed his name, my hands gripping his forearms, nails digging into his skin as waves of ecstasy dragged me under, each aftershock more intense than the last.

He didn't stop. Just kept working me through it, drawing out every last shudder until I was utterly spent against him, gasping for air, my body still humming with lingering echoes.

"Beautiful," he murmured against my neck, his lips brushing my pulse. "So fucking beautiful when you surrender to me."

Before I could catch my breath, he was lifting me, turning me to face him. Water sloshed over the edge of the tub as he positioned me straddling his lap, his arousal hard and throbbing between us, pressing against my core like a promise—or a threat.

"I need—" His voice was strained, his control clearly fraying. "Fuck, Elena, I need to feel you."

His hands gripped my hips, grinding me against him with raw urgency. The friction made us both groan, heat pooling low in my belly again.

"You said you weren't feeling well," he panted, his forehead pressed against mine, eyes locked on mine with desperate intensity. "Tell me if this is too much. Tell me and I'll stop."

I should have stopped him. Should have pulled away. *But how could I, when my body craved him like a drug?*

Instead, I reached between us, wrapping my hand around him. He hissed, his hips jerking forward into my touch.

"Elena—"

"Let me," I whispered, my hand moving in slow, firm strokes, feeling him pulse under my fingers. "Let me take care of you."

His eyes darkened to storm clouds, his jaw clenching. "Fuck, yes. Just like that."

I increased my pace, my grip tightening, and his head fell back against the tub's edge, his chest heaving with ragged breaths.

"Harder," he groaned, his voice breaking. "Squeeze harder—fuck, Elena—"

His hand returned to my breast, kneading roughly, and I moaned, fresh arousal sparking despite everything. *God, I hate how much I want this. Want him.*

"Come here." He pulled me closer, guiding himself between my breasts. "Hold them together."

I did as he asked, pressing them around him, and he began to thrust, his movements growing more erratic, more desperate—each one sending jolts through me.

"So good," he panted, his hands tangling in my hair. "So fucking good—"

I watched his face—the way his features twisted with raw pleasure, the way his mouth fell open in silent ecstasy, the way his eyes squeezed shut as if in pain.

And I hated how much power this gave me. How much I craved his undoing, even as it unraveled me too.

"Elena—" His voice broke, hips bucking wildly. "I'm—fuck—I'm going to—"

He came with a strangled groan, his release hot against my skin, his body shuddering violently. His hands gripped my shoulders hard enough to bruise, anchoring him through the storm.

We stayed like that for a long moment, both breathing hard, the water around us cooling, mirroring the chill settling in my heart.

Then Julian was pulling me close again, his arms wrapping around me, his face buried in my neck.

"You're going to ruin me," he whispered against my skin. "You're going to fucking destroy me."

I didn't know what to say to that. Didn't know if it was a confession or an accusation.

So I said nothing.

---

Later, after we'd dried off and he'd carried me to the bed—so gently, so carefully—I lay there wrapped in his arms, trying to make sense of everything.

My hand rested on my still-flat stomach, hidden beneath the covers.

*I'm sorry, baby,* I thought. *I'm so sorry.*

That's when his phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Julian reached for it, and I saw the name flash across the screen before he could hide it.

**Margaret (Victoria's Housekeeper)**

His body went rigid.

"I have to take this," he said quietly.

He stood, pulling on his pants, and stepped into the hallway. But I could hear his voice through the door.

"What happened?... Another nightmare?... How bad?... Fuck. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

Silence.

Then: "Tell her I'm coming."

He walked back into the bedroom, already buttoning his shirt. His face was unreadable.

"I have to go," he said, not meeting my eyes.

I stared at him. "Of course you do."

"Elena—"

"Just go, Julian." My voice was hollow. "She needs you."

He hesitated at the door, his hand on the frame. For a moment, I thought he might turn back. But, he didn't and walked straight.