INTIMACY WITH THE MIND READER

Chapter 8: Midnight at the pier

Maeve's heart hammered against her ribs, a wild, trapped animal. Her mind was a battlefield of warring impulses. Every moral fiber she possessed screamed at her to claw his eyes out, to scream for the police, to drag Ethan's unconscious body out into the safety of the neon lit street.

But her telepathy was drowning in him.

Now that the walls inside his mind were completely down, his obsession didn't just touch her; it consumed her. It was a dark, infinite ocean of absolute certainty.

In a world where every human mind she encountered was a chaotic mess of doubt, insecurity, and fleeting whims, Julian's mind was a monument built entirely to worship her. Every thought he had ever had, every breath he had taken for years, had been calibrated to this exact second.

You're insane, she breathed, her voice shaking, though she didn't pull her thighs away from his grip.

I am efficient, Julian corrected softly. He slid his hands higher, his palms hot against the bare skin of her waist, lifting her effortlessly from the floor and pulling her onto his lap.

And I am entirely yours. You can hate me, Maeve. You can punish me. But you cannot deny what we are.

He pressed his forehead against hers. The absolute, velvety silence roared back into her consciousness, a thick, protective dome that erased the apartment, erased the city, erased the entire world. The relief was so sharp, so violently sweet, that a broken sob escaped her lips.

She hated her own weakness. She hated how her body betrayed her, her core aching with a sudden, fierce heat that demanded his touch.

Show me,she whispered, a desperate, self loathing surrender.

Julian's eyes flared with a triumphant, predatory light. He didn't waste another second. He captured her mouth in a kiss that was no longer gentle, no longer hiding behind the facade of a tragic lover.

It was a declaration of ownership. He bit her lower lip, tasting the copper tang of blood, and Maeve groaned into his mouth, her fingers tangling frantically in his hair.

He ripped the silk robe completely from her shoulders, pinning her back against the plush cushions of the sofa. The direct, skin to skin contact was blinding.

Through the open channel of their minds, she felt his arousal a sharp, agonizing peak of desire that had been building through months of watching her from afar.

He took her right there in the dark, his movements heavy, dominant, and mercilessly deep. Maeve arched into him, her head thrashing against the cushions as the physical pleasure morphed into a psychological meltdown.

She could feel his mind tracking every nerve ending in her body, adjusting his rhythm to push her past the brink of sanity. She wasn't just experiencing her own c****x; she was experiencing his intoxicating joy at finally having his prize back in his arms.

Tell me who you belong to,Julian growled against her throat, his teeth grazing her pulse point as he drove her higher and higher.

You, she gasped, tears of pure ecstasy slipping down her cheeks, her hands gripping his scarred shoulders as the world began to fracture. Julian please,

The peak hit them like an atomic blast a blinding, terrifying fusion of two minds locking into a permanent, unbreakable loop.

Maeve choked on a scream as her vision went entirely white, her body shuddering violently beneath his as he poured his final, desperate surrender into her.

The quiet returned, heavy and thick as velvet.

Julian lay heavily on top of her, his face buried in the crook of her neck, his breathing gradually slowing. He looked like a man who had finally found his home after an eternity in the dark.

Maeve stared past his shoulder, her eyes focusing on the hallway.

Ethan was still lying there, a pale, forgotten casualty of a game he never knew he was playing. But as Maeve watched, Ethan's fingers twitched.

A low, agonizing groan escaped his lips as he began to stir, the effects of Julian's mental strike finally wearing off.

Julian didn't move. He simply tightened his arms around her waist, locking her to his chest.

Let him wake up,Julian whispered into her skin, his voice dripping with a dark, chilling amusement. Let him see you in my bed. Let him know exactly why you can never love a normal man.

Maeve froze, her heart stopping as Ethan's eyes slowly opened in the shadows, turning toward the living room

Ethan's vision was too blurred by the lingering aftershocks of the mental strike to register the shadows tangled on the sofa. By the time his eyes fully focused,

Julian had already swept Maeve away into the darkness of the master bedroom, leaving Ethan to believe he had simply fainted from sudden exhaustion.

Two days later, the guilt was eating Maeve alive. She had forced herself back into her routine with Ethan, desperate to claw back some semblance of a normal, human life.

The San Francisco afternoon was crisp, the heavy fog rolling over the hills as she and Ethan walked hand in hand down a bustling street in Pacific Heights. Ethan was talking about a new commercial project, his mind a comforting, predictable hum of structural beams and budget concerns.

I'm just glad whatever bug I had the other night passed, Ethan said, squeezing her hand and flashing his warm, hazel-eyed smile. I've felt great ever since our walk yesterday."

Me too, Ethan,Maeve lied softly.

But her mind wasn't on his blueprints. It was locked in a state of hyper vigilant terror. The velvety quiet was gone, replaced by the grating, chaotic static of the city streets except for a strange, subtle undercurrent. A faint, rhythmic pulsing at the edge of her consciousness that felt entirely too familiar.

Beautiful afternoon for a stroll, isn't it?

The low, rich baritone cut through the city noise like a razor blade.

Maeve froze, her breath catching in her throat. She slowly turned her head. Stepping out from the shadow of a high end boutique was Julian. He looked effortlessly devastating, wearing a tailored white coat, his dark hair catching the coastal wind. His eyes were that brilliant, piercing sea-glass blue.

Ethan stopped, blinking in surprise at the striking stranger who had blocked their path. Uh, hello?

Julian ignored Ethan entirely for a fraction of a second, his gaze locked onto Maeve. The sheer intensity of his focus sent an immediate, involuntary shiver of heat straight down her spine.

Through the air between them, his mental void brushed against her mind, instantly dampening the city's noise. It was a silent, arrogant reminder of what he could give her.

Then, Julian smiled a perfectly polite, charming mask and extended his hand to Ethan.Apologies. I didn't mean to startle you. I'm Julian. An old associate of Maeve's from Seattle.

Oh! Ethan's mind flared with a sudden spike of curiosity, completely devoid of suspicion. He shook Julian's hand warmly. I'm Ethan, Maeve's boyfriend. She's mentioned Seattle, but I don't think she ever brought you up.

I tend to leave a lasting impression, even if people try to forget me, Julian murmured, his eyes sliding back to Maeve, flashing with a wicked, predatory amusement.

Maeve's knuckles turned white around the strap of her purse. Her telepathy sliced into Julian's mind, and what she found made her stomach drop. He wasn't just casually running into them.

He was utterly intoxicated by the thrill of the game. His mind was flooded with a dark, obsessive possessiveness, watching her stand next to another man just to see how much she would squirm.

Look at him, Maeve, Julian's voice suddenly echoed directly inside her head, clear as a bell, despite his lips remaining closed. Look how easily I could break him. Ask me to stop.

Maeve stepped back, pulling Ethan slightly with her. Julian was just leaving, Ethan. We have somewhere to be.

Actually, I have some time to kill,Julian countered smoothly, his physical voice dripping with charm while his mental voice continued to whisper dark promises in her ear.

There's a wonderful little espresso bar just around the corner. Why don't I buy you both a coffee? I'd love to catch up, swap some stories, and really. gist about the old days.

That sounds great, actually, Ethan said, completely oblivious, his mind buzzing with polite hospitality. I'd love to hear more about Maeve's time in Seattle. She's always so mysterious about it.

No,Maeve said, her voice sharp, cutting off Ethan's enthusiasm.

Both men looked at her. Ethan looked confused, his mind registering her sudden, intense panic. Julian simply kept that slow, knowing smile on his face, thoroughly enjoying her desperation.

Ethan, I want to go home. Now, Maeve said, her chest heaving as she stared at Julian with pure hatred and a terrifying, underlying spark of desire she couldn't extinguish.

Maeve, what's wrong?Ethan asked, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulder.

Julian's eyes darkened slightly at the sight of Ethan's hand on her. He stepped a fraction closer, the absolute quiet in Maeve's head tightening like a noose.

Yes, Maeve, Julian whispered, his voice dropping into that dangerous, hypnotic purr. "What's wrong? It's just a cup of coffee. Unless. there's something you're afraid I'll tell him?