The Woman Who Didn’t Ask for Everything [R -18]
Julian’s own body was a canvas of her passion as well. Scratches ran down his back, the marks of her nails digging into his skin as she’d cried out his name.
His chest was covered in bite marks where she’d lost control, and his shoulders bore the crescent imprints of her teeth.
He’d never felt so thoroughly claimed.
And he’d never loved it more.
She’s incredible, he thought, his golden eyes tracing every curve, every mark. Absolutely incredible.
But even as the warmth of the moment enveloped him, he could see the shift in her expression.
The sleepiness was fading.
The coldness was creeping back.
Her crimson eyes grew guarded, her jaw tightening as the reality of the situation began to sink in.
Felberta Ashbourne was retreating behind her walls.
Julian recognized the signs immediately.
He’d seen her do it before—the way she’d shut down, the way she’d distance herself whenever things became too intimate.
But he wasn’t about to let her go that easily.
Not now.
Not after everything they’d shared.
"Well, good morning," he said, his voice deliberately light and teasing. "And here I thought you’d be all warm and cuddly after last night."
Felberta’s eyes narrowed.
"I am not ’warm and cuddly.’"
"Really?" Julian grinned, leaning closer. "Because I distinctly remember you clinging to me like a koala at one point. And the sounds you made—"
"Julian."
"—were absolutely adorable. Like a little kitten."
"I will push you off this bed."
"You’d miss me."
"I’d survive."
He laughed, the sound warm and genuine, and despite herself, Felberta felt the corners of her mouth twitch.
"You’re impossible," she muttered.
"And you love it."
She didn’t deny it.
Instead, she sat up slowly, wincing slightly at the ache between her thighs. Her body protested every movement, a pleasant reminder of the night’s activities.
Her eyes fell on the bed.
The sheets were a disaster.
Tangled. Stained. The evidence of their passion impossible to hide.
Her cheeks flushed.
"I’ll destroy these bedsheets," she said matter-of-factly, her voice cool despite the blush. "No one will ever know."
Julian raised an eyebrow.
"That’s... very practical of you."
"I don’t need the servants gossiping about my personal life."
"And here I thought you’d want to keep them as a souvenir."
Her blush deepened. "You’re impossible."
"You keep saying that."
"Because it keeps being true."
Julian laughed again, but then his expression softened.
He reached out, his fingers brushing a strand of black hair from her face.
"Felberta," he said quietly. "There’s something I need to tell you."
Her guard went up immediately.
"What?"
"I want to be honest with you." He took a deep breath, his golden eyes meeting hers. "You’re not the first woman in my life. And I know... I know that might bother you. But I need you to understand."
Felberta’s expression remained neutral, but her heart clenched.
Here it comes, she thought. The confession. The explanation. The inevitable reminder that I’m just another name on his list.
But she listened.
She always listened.
Because despite everything, she’d done her research before approaching him—before she’d sought him out to treat her father’s illness. She knew about Bianca De Dominicis. She knew about Amara Ravenswood. She knew about Liza Voss and Lina Ashford and all the other women who had captured his attention.
She knew everything.
And yet, hearing him say it—hearing him confess it willingly—was different.
"I have feelings for Selene," Julian began, his voice steady but sincere. "She was the first woman I truly... connected with in this lifetime. She’s strong and capable, and she sees through all my nonsense. I care about her deeply."
Felberta nodded slowly.
"And there’s Bianca. She’s passionate and fierce, and she was the first woman to kiss me—really kiss me. There’s something between us that I can’t explain."
He paused, gathering his thoughts.
"Then there’s Amara. She’s... she’s like a gentle storm. Calm on the surface, but with so much fire underneath. I care about her too."
Felberta’s expression remained impassive.
"Liza is... complicated. She’s wild and unpredictable, but there’s a vulnerability there that she hides behind her sharp edges. And Lina—" He smiled softly. "Lina is sweet and kind, and she makes me want to be a better man."
He turned to look at Felberta directly.
"I’m telling you this because I want you to know the truth," he said. "I’m not perfect. I’m not a saint. I have feelings for all of them. But I need you to understand something."
Felberta held his gaze.
"What?"
"I love all of them," he admitted quietly. "But I love you a little more."
No, he corrected himself internally. Not a little more. A lot more. More than I ever thought I could love anyone.
But he didn’t say that out loud.
Not yet.
Felberta stared at him, her crimson eyes unreadable.
Then, slowly, she sighed.
"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, her voice carefully neutral. "Are you feeling guilty?"
Julian shook his head.
"Not guilty. But I think I needed to tell you. I said I love all of them, and that’s true. But now I love you too. Maybe even more than them. I don’t know exactly where that puts us, but I know I can’t pretend like you don’t matter. Like this doesn’t matter."
Felberta was quiet for a long moment.
Her cold facade flickered, just slightly.
Then she sighed again, softer this time.
"Look," she said, her voice gentler. "I know what you are, Julian. I know you’re a flirt. I know you have other women. I did my research before I approached you to treat my father."
Julian blinked. "You did?"
"I’m not an idiot." She gave him a flat look. "I don’t trust men. I don’t trust anyone. So yes, I looked into your background. I know about Selene, Bianca, Amara, Liza, Lina... all of them."
Julian opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.
"I’m not a jealous woman," she continued, her voice steady.
"If you want to be with them, that’s fine. That’s your choice. But I’m here too. If you want me, I’m here. If you don’t—"
She shrugged, a hint of vulnerability showing through her cold mask. "That’s fine too. I’m not going to beg."
Julian stared at her.