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Page 41 of Round the Fire Stories

Back home, I help her out of the car, leaving the bags for later. Right now, my focus is entirely on her. In the elevator, I cage her against the wall, one hand braced beside her head.

"I want to taste you." I trace the line of the diamond choker. "Want to mark every inch of you as mine."

Her breath catches. I capture her lips in a deep kiss, savoring the soft sound she makes. When the elevator doors open, I guide her inside to the couch, settling on my knees before her.

Hooking one leg over my shoulder, I wrap my hands around the smooth thighs I'm about to cover in marks. "Let me take care of you, sweet girl."

And I don't know what is sweeter, her punishment or reward. Both have her trembling and coming all over me.

11

IVY

Iwalk around the living room while Julian is showering, deciding on how I want to entertain myself. I'm surprised that I actually like the social media detox, even if sometimes I wish I could just doom scroll on the couch.

I've picked up a few hobbies beyond eating and watching movies, but nothing really holds my interest. Instead, I walk around until I spot a weird key on the counter.

Intrigue has me moving around the apartment, looking for the area that it unlocks. But no doors are even closed.

As I come back around, I find myself looking at the elevator that opens into the penthouse. Curiosity gets the better of me as I walk toward it.

"I'll be back before he's even out."

I suppose I could wait, to ask Julian what it goes to and if I can see. But I don't want to bother him and it really is just a little curiosity that I want soothed.

The elevator doors ping open as I press the button to my surprise. They've always been locked since I've been here - though maybe it's the key. Inside, I spot a slot that the key slidesinto easily. When I turn it, the elevator doors close and unease slithers through me.

But when the door slides open and I see it's a connected private garage, I take a tentative step out. My breath catches at the transformation inside. What should be a utilitarian space has become a winter fantasy. Twinkling white lights drape from the ceiling in graceful arcs, casting a soft glow over everything below. Artificial snow blankets the ground in pristine drifts, complete with subtle sparkles that catch the light.

My heels crunch in the synthetic powder as I venture deeper into the space. Just as Julian promised, my little blue Prius sits in the corner - looking hilariously out of place among the luxury vehicles. Julian's midnight black Bentley takes center stage, flanked by a silver Aston Martin and blood-red Ferrari.

Frosted pine garlands wind around support pillars, their tips dusted with that same ethereal snow. The scent of real evergreen mingles with the crisp winter air flowing through hidden vents. Small mechanical birds, perched on decorated branches, twitter soft winter melodies that echo in the cavernous space.

"This is incredible," I whisper, running my fingers along a snow-covered workbench. The attention to detail amazes me - even the tools have been artfully arranged and decorated with tiny icicles.

I circle the cars again, admiring how the lights play off their polished surfaces. My reflection fragments across the Bentley's dark paint, multiplying me into a thousand tiny versions of myself. The whole scene feels surreal, like stepping through a portal into some magical dimension where winter never ends.

I shouldn't even be surprised that the garage is decorated, too. It's not like Julian ever half-asses anything.

I turn back toward the elevator, ready to return upstairs before Julian notices I'm gone. The doors slide open with a soft ding that echoes through the garage. My heart stops.

Julian fills the doorway, wearing nothing but black slacks, his chest still damp from the shower. His ice-blue eyes lock onto mine, and the temperature in the garage plummets. His jaw tightens, a muscle ticking beneath his skin.

"I-I was just..." The words stick in my throat as he stalks toward me, each step deliberate and predatory.

"What exactly were you just doing?" His voice comes out low, controlled - which somehow makes it worse than if he'd yelled.

"The key was on the counter, and I got curious." I take a step back, bumping into his Bentley. "I didn't mean-"

His hand shoots out, catching my jaw. His grip isn't painful, but it's firm enough that I can't look away from those cold eyes as he drags me forward. "You didn't mean to what? Sneak down here while I was in the shower?"

It's obvious what he thinks. I was trying to find my car - but I had no clue that's even where this led.

"No! I swear I wasn't trying to leave." My hands press against his chest, but he doesn't budge. "I just wanted to see where the key led." Tears fill my eyes as the weight of his disappointment threatens to crush me. "That's all."

"And you couldn't wait to ask me?" His thumb traces along my jawline, the gentle touch at odds with his hard expression. "Couldn't give me that basic courtesy?"

"I'm sorry. I thought... I didn't think it would matter." My voice comes out small, desperate. "Look at all the decorations - it's beautiful down here. I wasn't doing anything wrong."


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