I withdrew my fingers and quickly rolled on the condom, slicking it with lube. Positioning myself at his entrance, I leaned down to kiss him again, our tongues mimicking the act I was about to perform. I pushed in slowly, inch by inch, giving him time to adjust, to accept me. His body tensed briefly, and I stilled, whispering words of reassurance against his lips.
"You feel amazing, Julian," I murmured, my voice hoarse with desire. "So tight, so warm."
He relaxed, and I slid in deeper, until I was fully sheathed inside him. We stayed like that for a moment, our bodies joined, our hearts pounding in sync. Then I started to move, slowly at first, then building up a rhythm that had us both gasping and moaning.
His hands were on my back, my shoulders, my face, touching me like he couldn't get enough. I could feel every tremor of hisbody, every hitch of his breath, and it was intoxicating. This was more than just sex—this was a connection, a merging of souls.
I reached between us and wrapped my hand around his cock, stroking him in time with my thrusts. His head fell back, exposing his throat, and I leaned down to kiss the pulse point, feeling his heartbeat against my lips.
"Jude," he gasped, "I'm close. So close."
I felt it too, the way his body tightened around me, the way his breath hitched in his throat. I thrust deeper, harder, my hand working him faster. Our bodies were slick with sweat, our breaths mingling, and our hearts pounding as one.
His eyes met mine, wide and vulnerable, and I saw it again—that trust, that raw emotion that made my chest ache. I leaned down, kissed him deeply, swallowing his moans, feeling his body tense beneath me.
"Let go, Julian," I whispered against his lips. "Let go for me."
And he did. "Oh God, Jude."
Julian's body convulsed, his cock pulsing in my hand as he came, hot and heavy, between us. The sight of him, the feel of him, pushed me over the edge. I thrust into him one last time, my body shaking as I found my own release, his name a whisper on my lips.
We stayed like that for a moment, our bodies still joined, our breaths slowing, our hearts gradually returning to their normal rhythm. I kissed his forehead, his cheeks, his lips, tasting the salt of his sweat and tears.
Slowly, I withdrew from him, discarding the condom before pulling him into my arms. He nestled against my chest, his body warm and pliant, a contented sigh escaping his lips. I grabbed the edge of the blanket, pulling it over us, cocooning us in warmth.
The silence between us was comfortable, like we'd been together our entire lives, the aftermath of our lovemaking stilllingering in the air. Julian's heartbeat against my chest, his breath on my skin, and it felt right. Like this was where we were meant to be.
"Thank you," Julian murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
I looked down at him, puzzled. "For what?"
He looked up at me, his eyes soft, a small smile playing on his lips. "For seeing me. For wanting me. For making me feel... safe."
My heart swelled at his words, and I pulled him closer, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You are safe with me, Julian. Always."
Epilogue
Julian- One Year Later
“I’ve got to hand it to you, Julian. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Thanks?”
Claudia Jameson gave me her signature smirk over FaceTime, all red lipstick and expensive indifference. “Don’t act surprised. Your podcast was three lousy reviews away from getting canceled a year ago. And now? You’ve tripled your listener base, you’ve got TikTok witches stitching your episodes with moon phase emojis, and your inbox is full of sponsorships from organic tea companies.”
I sat back in my chair and swirled my green tea. It had gone cold hours ago, but I kept sipping it out of habit. “So you’re saying I’ve sold out.”
“I’m saying you’ve grown up. A rebrand that authentic doesn’t happen by accident. You didn’t just pivot—you turned an expose on spiritual charlatans into a genuine conversation about healing. And you did it without becoming one of those self-help gurus who wear prayer beads and cheats on his boyfriend.”
I grinned. “Yet. And I mean the part about being a self-help guru, not the cheating.” Why on earth would I ever cheat on Jude?
She laughed. “Seriously, though. This new focus on transformation? On real human connection? It’s working. Listeners love the new you.”
I glanced out the window. Jude was outside, barefoot in the herb garden, muttering to a rosemary bush like it owed him money. He wore one of my old tank tops and a pair of linen pants that should’ve looked ridiculous but somehow didn’t. He caught me looking, waved, and flashed that crooked smile that still made my stomach do Olympic-level flips.
“Yeah,” I said, “I think I love the new me too.”
Claudia tilted her head, softened. “You’re happy.”
