TILL DEATH DO US PART

Chapter four - Gravity

I hadn’t seen Julian for three days.

They stretch longer than they should, pulled thin by anticipation. I refuse to name. I tell myself the absence is relief. Proof that whatever this is can still be contained. But my body doesn’t listen. It remembers him in quiet moments in the pause before sleep, in the heat that blooms low in my stomach when I least expect it.

On the fourth night, my phone lights up.

Come with me. Just tonight.

No address. No explanation.

My reply is sent before doubt can catch up.

Where?

The answer arrives instantly.

You’ll see.

I should know better. Still, I dress with care in nothing too revealing, nothing too guarded. When I step outside, his car is already there. Julian gets out, eyes darkening when they find me, like he’s been holding his breath.

“You look…” He stops, jaw tightening. “…exactly how I hoped you would.”

“That so?” I ask, pulse fluttering.

He opens the door for me. The gesture feels intimate in a way that unsettles me more than any touch could.

We don’t talk much on the drive. The silence is charged, humming with everything we’re not saying. When we stop, it’s at a high rise overlooking the city, lights glittering below like something unreal.

Inside, the space is dim and warm. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Music low and slow. Julian shrugs out of his jacket, movements unhurried, controlled. He watches me the entire time.

“You don’t have to stay,” he says quietly.

I meet his gaze. “You wouldn’t have brought me here if you thought I’d leave.”

Something like approval flickers across his face.

He steps closer. Not rushing. Never rushing. His presence wraps around me, heat and restraint and promise. When his fingers brush my arm, it’s slow testing, asking. My breath catches despite myself.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs.

I don’t.

His hand slides to my waist, firm but careful, anchoring me. The city blurs beyond the glass as he leans in, forehead resting against mine. We’re close enough now that every breath feels shared.

“This isn’t a game,” he says softly. “If we cross this line”

“I know,” I whisper.

The kiss is inevitable.

It’s not frantic. It’s deliberate. His mouth moves against mine like he’s been memorizing me in secret, slow and deep and devastating. When I sigh into him, his grip tightens just enough to make my knees weaken.

Heat coils between us, heady and intoxicating. He kisses me like he’s been waiting like restraint has been a battle he’s finally choosing to lose. My hands slide up his chest, feeling his heart hammering beneath my palms.

For the first time, his control cracks.

He pulls back slightly, breath uneven, eyes dark with something raw. “This is dangerous,” he says.

I smile, soft and reckless. “So are you.”

His laugh is low, surprised and then he kisses me again, harder this time, backing me gently toward the window. The glass is cool against my back, the contrast dizzying. His body brackets mine without crushing, without taking more than I give.

It’s fire and gravity and something frighteningly close to tenderness.

When he finally rests his forehead against mine, we’re both breathing hard.

“This doesn’t end tonight,” he says, not asking.

I nod, heart full and racing all at once.

His hands slides down my chest, stroking my breasts and n*****s gently. His tongue on my skin while he slides downwards.

Should I go ahead? He says

I give off a frantic nod and intense breath and smile

He pulls off his shirt, revealing sweaty muscles covered in knife marks.

What are these? I asked

“You don’t need to know” he responded while kissing me and making me forget I just saw it.

Outside, the city keeps its secrets.

Inside, I realize the truth too late to stop it:

I’m not just falling for Julian Blackwood.

I’m stepping willingly into his orbit

and I don’t want to escape.