Chapter 8 The first time

Julian's hands hovered over Isla's bare skin like she was something holy. His chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven breaths, water droplets still sliding down his abs like proof that everything about him was real-tangible, raw, and vulnerable.

She cupped his jaw, guiding his gaze back to her.

"I've got you," she whispered. "You don't have to be perfect."

He laughed under his breath-nervous, breathless. "That's a relief."

They kissed again-slower this time. No rush. No pressure. Just skin meeting skin, mouths memorizing each other, touch by trembling touch.

She led him to the bed, pulling him down with her, her body warm and open beneath him.

His eyes flicked up, uncertain.

"I've never..."

"I know," she murmured, brushing her fingers through his hair. "We'll take it slow."

Julian nodded and kissed her again. This time with more hunger. With confidence.

Every kiss grew bolder. His hands found her breasts, cupping her like she was something precious, something breakable-but she wasn't. She arched into his touch, gasping as his mouth followed, teasing her nipple until she moaned softly, fingers digging into his back.

Julian groaned against her skin. "Tell me what you like."

"I like you," she breathed. "Like this. All of you."

She reached down between them, guiding him gently.

His body stiffened for a moment-but her lips were on his, her voice soft in his ear. "Breathe."

He did.

And slowly, carefully, Julian Cross entered her for the first time.

A gasp escaped his throat-part shock, part awe.

"God," he whispered. "You feel like... everything."

She held him close as he moved inside her, hesitant at first, then deeper, stronger, guided by instinct and trust. They found a rhythm-an unspoken language of moans and gasps, of fingers gripping skin and lips brushing against lips.

It wasn't clumsy. It wasn't awkward.

It was beautiful.

Julian didn't just make love.

He offered himself.

And Isla took him in-body and soul.

When he finally came, it was with a broken cry into her neck, his arms wrapped so tightly around her she could barely breathe-but she didn't want to let go either.

He collapsed beside her, face flushed, body trembling.

They lay in silence, heartbeats syncing.

Then, after a long, trembling breath, he whispered, "That didn't feel like losing anything."

She turned toward him. "It wasn't. You didn't lose your virginity, Julian. You gave it to me."

He looked at her like she was the first sunrise he'd ever seen.

"I'm afraid of how much I want you," he admitted.

She kissed his forehead.

"Then stop being afraid."

---

An Hour Later...

They were tangled in sheets, soft breaths and lazy fingers trailing across bare skin.

Julian broke the silence. "What happens when the week ends?"

Isla hesitated. "I hadn't thought that far ahead."

His voice dropped. "Think now."

She looked into his eyes-gray, vulnerable, no longer guarded.

"I don't want this to be temporary," she said. "But I don't know what it is yet. Do you?"

Julian paused. Then nodded, slow and sure.

"It's everything."

She didn't know what to say to that.

But she felt it, too.

And just as she opened her mouth to say so-

His phone buzzed.

Julian reached for it lazily, until he saw the caller ID:

Veronica Chase.

The color drained from his face.

He sat up, heart hammering.

Isla grabbed the sheets. "What is it?"

He answered the call on speaker.

Veronica's voice sliced through the room like a dagger.

"Julian. I thought you should hear it from me before it hits every headline."

"There's a photo. Of you. And her. Kissing."

"You've got twelve hours before the world finds out that the billionaire virgin finally got f**ked."