Julius didn’t move, watching her move but not willing to trust himself to remain away. As she described her version of close, he involuntarily pictured it and then his mind drew how it would look when she experienced her first climax, her first release, his name on her lips. It was certainly a captivating image and, by that virtue alone, dangerous. As much as his body craved hers, Julius Carleone was not willing to neither wed nor duel - both were tediously boring and required too much effort. And so, he allowed only his eyes to feast on the vision her body was. He didn’t move to hold her when she pressed up against him, her scent hitting him in an overpowering way nor did he kiss her back when her lips found his.
“Perhaps its better you never find out - I’d hate to ruin your husband’s bed for you before the poor chap even had a chance,” Julius responded with a smirk but the humour didn’t fully reach his eyes, not the same way as before. The hell had just happened? Did he really allow this girl to ruin her life - in the old fashioned way at least - without even trying to stop her? And what if any of his friends found out? How soon would Liam demand satisfaction in the form of his blood? At least hopefully only his blood, Julius prayed. And more daunting, how quickly would he be tied to matrimony if Lady Margot found out? Shaking his head, he turned away as Nora disappeared into the servant’s corridor.
With the thrill of the game ruined thanks to Westley’s rather ridiculous timing, the cold reality was setting in. Pacing towards the privy where the cold shower stood in the corner, away from the bath in the adjacent dressing room, Julius shed the towel, stepping to stand under the numbing coldness, the desire slowly seeping out of his body. The damage was already done - the small drops of blood proved what he had wondered from the begining and there was no going back. The only question now was - how was he to move forward? For him, the whole encounter was spontaneous fun, a crazy screw-the-consequences conquest of a woman who was strong, bold and alluring. For her, however, what was it? A way to catch a husband or a means for attention? A guarantee that Liam was never able to marry her off or a gamble that he would marry her off sooner to the first old geezer who’d come along? And what exactly was Julius most unnerved by?
“Que sera, sera,” he murmured, pushing away all the thoughts and stepping out of the water. No point in trying to overanalyze the future - he would be fine. After all, Radisson was forgiven and even Westley made peace with Marcus. Well, almost. In any case, he doubted Nora was willing to marry after a single night - if she did, she wouldn’t have argued so feverishly with her mother in the library. Thus, as long as no one found out, it would be his dirty little secret. And Julius was rather good at keeping secrets.
The breakfast room was nearly full by the time Julius arrived, freshly washed and dressed in clean clothes, looking charming and impeccable as usual. At the table, he could see Radisson and Westley speaking about something, the blonde still followed by a dark cloud but none of them could begrudge their friend his downcast, angry deposition. Emeric was picking at his food, looking rather pensive, propping his chin on his hand in thought. Darius sat beside him with a huge pile of fluffy pancakes, slowly buttering the top one, a similarly impressive mountain of ham, bacon and eggs in a second plate beside him.
“Did we not feed you properly in the capital, Dari?” Julius chuckled, making the younger man blush slightly. Stepping so that he was leaning over his friend’s shoulder, the Islander took a strong whiff before sneakily stealing a piece of crispy bacon. As Darius threw his head up in protest, Julius danced away, wagging his prize in the air. “Didn’t your mother tell you sharing is caring or some sort of lesson?”
“She told me to choose better friends,” the Vale responded with a roll of his eyes. Radisson and Westley both laughed and Emeric only shook his head.
“Oh come now, what’s the fun in that?” Julius asked smugly. “It was certainly share and share alike at home.”
“The same way you like to share your women?” Emeric asked innocently, Darius choking on his juice he had taken a sip off. Patting the youngest man, the Islander wiggled his eyebrows.
“I am never against sharing - problem is my women, the poor dears, are permanently turned off other men after spending a night with me.”
“Cocky much?” Radisson scoffed as Julius took a bite of the bacon, his eyes twinking with amusement.
“Just facts, Radi old boy, just facts.”
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