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He liked that she started decorating his townhouse as if she planned to stay with him forever, although he knew what their bargain entailed. He adored the smile that lit up her entire face and made her seem hundreds of times more magnificent than she already was. He adored her enthusiasm about their London itinerary, about the plays and other activities. Most of all, he enjoyed their quiet evenings as a family, simply watching her, content and relaxed in their house.
He was already feeling too much for her, and if he started bedding her every night, he knew he would grow obsessed with her; he would crave her more than he already did. Crave her taste, her tiny whimpers. He’d want to make her cry in pleasure. Robert felt his cock rise to attention at his thoughts. He put his hand under the sheets and took himself in hand, imagining it was Julie’s touch. He stroked himself lightly, unhurriedly, imagining Julie crouching before him, licking him slowly. He imagined her enveloping him inside her heat, sucking hard—
A strangled moan sounded from the room next to his. Her room. Robert sat up in his bed. Another moan, or was it a whimper, a cry? His face felt red as another memory flooded him, another time when he came to his woman’s rooms and heard similar sounds. Back then, he’d found Annie crouching on all fours, sucking another man’s cock. He shook the thought out of his mind. Julie wouldn’t do this, especially not under his own roof. Something was happening there, so he needed to investigate.
He lunged from the bed and hastily put on his nightshirt. Robert lit his bedside candle and trotted into Julie’s bedroom. He knocked gingerly at first, but he entered the room when he didn’t receive any answer.
Julie was lying in bed, the sheets tangled between her legs, her hair tossed on the pillow, her nightcap tossed aside. She was writhing as if in pain or in fever, tiny whimpers escaping her slightly open mouth. He moved closer to her bed and noted that her breathing was shallow; she was panting as if after a hard exercise. Her whimpers grew louder suddenly, and then she froze as if about to scream, only the sound hadn’t emerged, although her body arched slightly off the bed.
Robert put his candle into a candle holder by the bed and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Julie,” he whispered lightly.
Julie started wrenching away as if trying to shake off his hand. Another light scream.
“Julie,” he said a little harsher and took her by her upper arms as if about to shake her.
She opened her eyes then and almost sat up in bed. If Robert hadn’t been holding her, she no doubt would. She let out a high-pitched scream then, her eyes frantic, her breathing shallow. She put her hands on his forearms as if to throw him off her. At the last moment, she seemed to realize where she was and who he was, and she just stared at him, her eyes still wide, her hands still holding his.
“Robert,” she said as if she wasn’t sure whether this was a dream.
“Are you all right?” he asked, furrowing his brows.
Julie looked around again to make sure that she was indeed in her bed-chamber in his house. Then she swallowed and nodded.
“Did you have a nightmare?” he said gently.
Another nod.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Julie shook her head, seemingly unable to speak.
Robert looked at her, his brows furrowed, thinking over his further actions. “Are you sure you are all right? Do you need anything, water or—?” he trailed off, hoping she’d finally say something to him. And she did.
“Could you—Could you stay here?” she whispered without looking at him. He nodded his head, but since she wasn’t looking at him, she didn’t see it. “Just to hold me for a bit—if you don’t mind,” she continued.
Just to hold me.It wasn’t exactly a difficult request, but Robert had to swallow hard. There were other ways he could have comforted her, but if all she needed was the comfort of his arms, he’d give it to her. He’d give her anything. What was he thinking about in his bed-chamber? He didn’t want to grow fond of her. He almost scoffed aloud. Who was he trying to fool? It was already too late. He’d sell his soul to make her happy, whether she reciprocated or not.
So, he extinguished the light, climbed into the bed, and gathered her against his chest. She placed her head with her tangled mess of hair in the crook of his shoulder and hugged him tightly. Robert took a deep breath. It was an elated feeling, being hugged, touched by her. Being needed. Wanted. Even if not sexually. Perhaps especially not sexually. He ran a hand through the silky strands of her hair, smoothing them at her back, gathering them away from her face. Then he kissed her on her hair and squeezed her closer to him.
“Sleep, my sweet,” he whispered above her head. She burrowed even closer into him and stroked his free arm, then clutched it tightly before relaxing with a sigh.
