Today had been eventful, to say the least. Julian had found a key that was apparently instrumental to finding out more about his role, or lack thereof, in Lucio's murder, Asra had appeared as if from nowhere, and because of his timely arrival Julian and I weren't caught by Nadia. Truth be told, the stress of it all had been rather taxing, so the dinner we'd had with Portia (or was it Pasha?) had been a welcome reprieve. It had felt so natural, so warm, that I could have stayed there all night. We probably would have if Julian wasn't still a wanted man. So now, instead of being curled up on Portia's floor by the fire, he and I were meandering idly through the merchant district. At this time of night, the stalls and streets are utterly empty. The only light comes from the constant amber glow cast by the castle and the few upstairs windows that still had someone awake in them. It works out well for us; I don't much fancy having to evade more trouble today. Julian's gloved hand is clasping mine, fingers intertwined as he tilts his head a little to look at me. In the low light, I can see his lips curl into a handsome smile.
"You know," he begins as we pass the bakers stall. "If you remove the fact that I'm wanted for murder from the equation, this little midnight stroll is rather nice. Usually if I'm out this late, I'm on the way home from the Rowdy Raven and it's more of a stumble than a jaunt,"
He's trying to get a laugh from me and he seems ecstatic when it works, my chuckle seeming to carry on the gentle breeze and linger with nothing to stifle it.
"Well, I'm glad my company is preferable to Salty Bitters," I shoot back as we round the corner.
"My darling Cordelia, being drunk on your company is infinitely better than being drunk on even the finest Vesuvian wine," he's quick to retaliate, his one eye glittering with mischief and pride at his own quip.
The remark makes a warm feeling blossom in my chest despite how theatrical the delivery is. Despite him being quick to say that he doesn't want to be close to anyone, Julian's proclamations of affection are always so candid and open. Unlike Asra, I can read him perfectly. It feels as though we've known each other for years as opposed to weeks. My amused grin softens to a genuine smile as I turn towards him, pulling his head down to mine to kiss him softly, making sure to keep my affections gentle lest I come on too strong for him. I momentarily feel bad about making him stoop because of the difference in height due to his lanky physique, but he's quick to scoop me up in his arms as though I weigh nothing. I can feel the curve of a smile on his lips as he returns the kiss with fervour, one hand curled tight around my waist and the other cupping the side of my neck. My worries about being too eager become more and more unfounded by the day. Julian always responded to anything I gave him with a fire that set us both alight. He was starved of both affection and touch and I was more than happy to provide him with a surplus of both until he was sated. This also appeared to be the case now as I feel him swinging us both from our intended trajectory and pushing my back against the wall of someone's house. I can hear and feel the low moan that comes from him being so close to me, the hand at my neck snaking up into my hair as my own grip the collar of his shirt as some kind of desperate anchorage. It was so easy to get carried away. His moan leads to parted lips, which leads to me slipping my tongue into his mouth, which leads to his hand moving from the small of my back to grip my thigh and hoist my leg around his hip. We should stop. We're out in the open; anyone could come by and see us. See Julian. I should pull away and make sure he gets home safely.
But I don't.
Instead, I encourage him. My teeth catch his lower lip and roughly bite down, earning me another desperate groan from him as I feel his hips pressing against mine. I can already feel something hard and rigid prodding insistently at the inside of my thigh and it only spurs me on. Julian had been the king of stealing feverish kisses from me and always leaving both of us unsatisfied, wanting more. There was always an interruption or an excuse, but tonight there was nothing to divert this course. So, I try my best to make my intentions clear; gripping a handful of auburn hair and roughly pulling as his tongue dances with mine, hips canting towards his as I relish the wanton noises I get in response. It feels like there's liquid fire coursing through my veins. I can only recall one other time where I felt so hot, so needy, and it had been mere hours ago. My mind is flooded with the recent memory of us in the library when he found the key. So recent that I can feel the intensity that had rolled off him in waves. It elicits a shiver from me which Julian takes as encouragement, all but pinning me between the wall and his body as I vaguely hear my name fall from his lips in a needy whisper.
"Kiss me, you fool,"
I'd mostly meant it as a joke, but here he is talking about wanting to ravish me and looking at me like a parched man who'd just found an oasis. I can't say I haven't thought about what it would be like; Julian and I being…Intimate. It takes me by surprise a little when I realise just how much I want this. Want him. Before I know it, I'm above him on the desk and one of my legs is between his. He arches, reaching for the buttons on my blouse, both of us pawing at one another desperately and then—
Then we had to cut our ravishing short. But we didn't have to do that now. Although, I don't particularly want my first time with Julian to be up against a stranger's house. It takes all my effort to put a hand to his chest and gently push but he immediately pulls back. Even in the throes of passion, he's always incredibly mindful of me and my comfort. His eyes are glassy with lust and he's a little short of breath, as am I, but the stroke he gives my cheek is impossibly gentle.
"What is it?" he pants softly. "Did I do something wrong?"
"N-No, it's not that. I would just…Prefer to continue this once we get you home,"
He stares at me for a moment, looking dumbstruck before clearing his throat.
"Cordelia, I-," he trips over his words before trying again. "You know there is nothing in this world that I would treasure more than to take you home with me and show you just how much I've been thinking of you. Show you all the things I've been thinking of. But to ask that of you would be too-,"
"Julian," I stop him before he starts his episode of self-flagellation, pressing my forehead to his. "You're not the only one that wants this. I just don't want to remember this as 'the time we rutted like animals against a wall'. There's plenty of time for that later. I don't want you to overthink this and convince yourself you don't deserve any of it. Just take me home. Please,"
For a moment, I'm worried that my plea falls on deaf ears. He looks pained and unsure, his grip loosening a little around my waist. If he truly didn't want to do this, I wasn't going to push him, but it was difficult to ignore the tell-tale sensation of his length prodding my thigh. My concerns are abated a little when I feel him sigh, his breath still scented with the smell of the wine Portia had managed to scrounge up at dinner. Then he leans in again, forehead resting against mine, and lets his hand stroke the line from my ribs down to the swell of my hips.
"I truly don't understand why you'd want to commit to someone like me, Cordelia, much less allow me to have my way with you," he begins, and I can hear the strain in his voice. "But…But I can't deny that having you offer yourself to me is…tantalising, to say the least. Are you sure you want this? If I do anything wrong, if I upset you, I couldn't possibly forgive myself,"
Even as he speaks I feel him backing away from the wall, pulling me with him. He could let go of me whenever he wants, but he doesn't. I gnaw my lip gently and reach up to brush some hair away from his brow, nearly whimpering myself when I hear the needy sound that's pulled from his throat just from me touching his face.
"You told me you wanted to ravish me, Julian. Prove it to me,"
His eye widens a fraction but in an instant his hand closes around my wrist and he's pulling me through the streets of Vesuvia, his long strides meaning I almost have to jog to keep up. Every few seconds he steals a glance my way, his gaze heated and impatient, and every time he does I feel something coiling in my stomach that's a mix of nerves and excitement.
I'm vaguely aware of us passing the shop and I see that there's the amber glow of a lantern from the inside. Asra is back; he would want to see me. Under any other circumstances, I would have dropped everything I was doing and gone home to him and Faust. I would have given him a hard time about being away yet again and we would have talked and laughed and drank tea at our tiny little table. Tonight, however, another option had an iron grip on my hand and had already pulled me past the door before I could even begin to give it any kind of consideration. Julian's grip doesn't hurt, of course, but his gloved hand clasps mine firmly and I can feel the heat of his skin seeping into the supple leather and warming my chilly fingertips. Part of me wants to say something, tell him to slow down maybe, or just break the silence as he leads me through the streets but there's this atmosphere permeating the two of us that feeds off the silence; there's a hunger there that's stirring, a flame that's beginning to crackle and devour the kindling I'd given it in the form of my permission. My mouth opens but no words come so I settle for just following him until he nearly stumbles to a halt outside his rather unassuming abode. He uses his free hand to pull a key deftly from the inside pocket of his coat and as he unlocks the door I notice his expression shift and change. Until now, the glances I'd managed to catch had shown me that he was just as eager for this as I was. He'd chewed at his lip as we walked and there was a deep flush that had lit up his cheeks and spread down his neck and chest. Now, as he pushes open the door, he stops and gives me a searching look.
"Would you, um," he begins, throwing a glance over his shoulder. "Like to...Come in?"
Something tells me that, despite his experienced kisses telling me otherwise, Julian didn't have much experience in the way of taking someone home. I assume it was often the other way around. So I decide to make it easy for him and step past the threshold, pulling him with me.
"I think I would," I say as we step into the darkened room, hearing the blood roaring in my ears and the hiss of breath he takes in through his teeth.