F0ck Me Or Kill me, Your Secret Is Safe With Me

ELARA'S pov I was currently staring at the back of Julian’s head, and I was seriously considering poking him with a letter opener just to see if he was actually alive or if he’d finally turned into a literal statue. The sun had gone down hours ago, leaving my room in this weird, hazy half-light that made everything feel way too intimate, and I was so restless that my skin felt like it was humming with static electricity. I was sitting on the floor, my legs tucked under the green silk of my nightgown, which was way too thin for the draft coming off the balcony, but I didn't care because I was too busy trying to force a metal nail file into the lock of my wooden jewelry box. "You know, for a guy who’s supposed to be protecting me, you’re doing a really great job of making me feel like I’m in a funeral home," I said, my voice sounding a bit louder than I meant it to in the quiet room. I didn't look up, but I could feel his presence near the door, a heavy, dark shadow that seemed to soak up all the light and warmth, and just knowing he was there made the hair on my arms stand up. Julian didn't even flinch, he just stood there with his arms crossed over that massive chest of his, looking out into the hallway like he was expecting an army to come around the corner any second. He was wearing that black and silver Republic uniform, and it looked like it was struggling to hold him in, the fabric pulled so tight across his shoulders that I could see the hard muscle underneath every time he took a breath. It was annoying how much space he took up, and it was even more annoying that I couldn't stop looking at him. "My job is to watch the door, Elara, not to entertain you because you can’t sleep," he finally said, and his voice was that low, gravelly rumble that always seemed to start at the base of my spine and work its way up. He still didn't look at me, but I saw his jaw tighten, a small movement that told me he was just as on edge as I was. "Well, maybe I can’t sleep because you’re standing there like a creep," I snapped, finally giving up on the lock and throwing the jewelry box across the rug in a fit of pure, bored frustration. It hit the leg of a chair with a dull thud, and I reached for the glass of red wine I’d poured myself earlier, my hand shaking just enough to make the liquid swirl dangerously close to the rim. "You hate being here, I hate you being here, so why don't you just go stand in the hallway and give us both a break?" "Because your father doesn't trust the hallways, and he doesn't trust you," Julian said, and this time he did turn, his amber eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that felt like a physical weight pressing down on my chest. The light from the candles made his eyes look like they were literally glowing, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe, my heart starting to thump a fast, jagged rhythm against my ribs. "And do you trust me, Julian?" I asked, my voice dropping until it was soft and dangerous. I stood up, my bare feet silent on the wooden floor as I walked toward him, my silk gown fluttering around my ankles and clinging to my hips in a way that made me feel suddenly, sharply aware of how little I was wearing. I didn't stop until I was standing right in front of him, so close that I could feel the heat radiating off his body like a furnace. He smelled like rain and cedar wood and something deep and masculine that made my head spin more than the wine ever could. "I don't trust anything about you," he rasped, his eyes dropping from my face to my throat, tracking the way I swallowed hard. He was so much bigger than me, so much stronger, and standing this close to him felt like standing next to a mountain that was about to collapse. "Good," I whispered, reaching out with my free hand, my fingers hovering just an inch away from the silver buttons on his chest, feeling the frantic heat of him through the fabric. "Because I’m thinking about doing something that’s definitely going to make your job a lot harder." I saw his breathing hitch, his chest rising and falling in a fast, heavy motion, and I knew I had him. I knew he was struggling, I could see it in the way his pupils were blown wide and the way his hands were clenched into fists at his sides. I felt a surge of power, a wild, reckless heat in my blood, and I tilted the wine glass just a little too far, letting a drop of red liquid fall onto the pristine white of his collar. "Oops," I said, a slow, messy smile spreading across my face. ~~~JULIAN's POV~~~ I was going to snap, I could feel it in the way my blood was roaring in my ears and the way my heart was hammering so hard it felt like it was going to break a rib. Elara was a nightmare, a spoiled, gorgeous, bratty nightmare in a scrap of green silk, and she was currently trying to see exactly how much it would take to make me lose my mind. I wanted to stay focused, I wanted to remember that her father was the man who killed my family and took my crown, but it was impossible when she was standing this close, smelling like honey and expensive skin oil. "Clean it up, Julian," she said, her voice sounding raw and jagged, and she finally looked up at me with those eyes that were full of a dark, desperate kind of hunger that matched the one currently tearing me apart. I didn't move, I just stared at her, my teeth clenched so tight my jaw ached, and when she took another step closer, my hand shot out on its own, my fingers wrapping around her wrist before I could even think to stop myself. Her skin was so hot, so soft, and the feeling of her pulse jumping wildly against my thumb was like a shot of pure adrenaline straight to my gut. "You think this is funny?" I growled, my voice sounding like a low, primal snarl as I stepped forward, using my size to force her backward until her spine hit the wooden door with a loud, heavy thud. I followed her, pinning her there with the full weight of my body, my thighs brushing against hers through the thin silk of her gown, and I heard her let out a sharp, breathless gasp that made my skin prickle. I leaned down until my lips were right against her ear, my breath hot and ragged against her neck, and I let my other hand slide down from the door to her waist, my fingers digging into the fabric as I pulled her flush against me. I wanted her to feel exactly how much she was affecting me, I wanted her to know that the guard was gone and there was only a man left, a man who had been starving for a month and was finally looking at a feast. "You’ve been poking at me for weeks, Elara, trying to get a rise out of me like I’m some kind of animal in a cage," I rasped, my voice shaking with the effort of not just taking what I wanted right there against the wood. "You want to know what I’m thinking about right now? You want to know what happens when I stop being your guard? Because let me tell you something—if I do what I’m thinking about doing next, if I stop caring about the rules and start being the man who hates everything you stand for, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow, let alone run away from me." I felt her shudder against me, a long, deep tremble that went from her head to her toes, and her hands came up to clutch at my shoulders, her nails digging into my uniform as she arched her back into me, pressing her chest against mine until there wasn't a single inch of space left between us. The tension was so thick it was screaming, a live wire that was about to snap and set the whole palace on fire. "Then do it," she whispered, her voice breaking, her eyes wet and glassy as she looked up at me with a look that was half-terror and half-ecstasy. "Stop being a guard, Julian. Show me who you really are." I stared at her mouth, my heart thundering like a war drum, and I was so close, I was so damn close to just giving in and ruining both of our lives. I could feel the heat of her skin, the scent of the wine, the desperate way she was clinging to me, and I knew that if I kissed her now, there would be no going back, there would be no more borders or politics, just the two of us and the mess we were about to make. But then, the heavy, unmistakable sound of military boots echoed in the hallway outside, a rhythmic, iron-shod stride that made the floorboards vibrate and the air in the room turn ice-cold. It was the General. My father's killer. I froze, the reality of where we were slamming into me like a physical blow to the head, and I forced myself to pull back, my hands shaking so hard I had to hide them behind my back. I stepped away from her so fast it was like I’d been struck by lightning, the sudden distance between us feeling like tornadoes I could never cross. "Go to bed, Elara," I commanded, my voice thick and rough, sounding like I’d been screaming for hours. I turned toward the door, my hand on the handle as I looked back at her one last time, seeing her standing there with her hair messy and her gown wrinkled, looking like she’d just been through a war. "Go to sleep right now, before I forget why I'm standing on the other side of this door, and before I decide that I don't care if we both die for this." I yanked the door open and stepped out into the hallway, trying to pull my uniform straight and smooth my hair as I came face-to-face with the General, who was standing there with his eyes narrowed and his hand on his sword. "Julian," the General said, his voice like a sheet of ice, his gaze flicking from my disheveled tunic to the closed door behind me. "The girl is currently screaming your name, and you look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Tell me exactly what was happening in that room before I decide to find out for myself." Fuck!