Roman and Julienne's heart desire
Chapter 35: Don’t you know how to response to a kiss?

Chapter 35: Don’t you know how to response to a kiss?

Readers I’m sorry both the Chapters are the same, just the minor changes, you may find this one to your liking than the previous one.

Hope you find it to your liking.

"What do you mean?" Julie’s soft voice trembled, barely above a whisper.

"If you’re going to be with other men, why not be with your husband?" Roman’s deep voice rumbled, his gaze piercing as he watched Julie’s tears stream down her face, soaking into his shirt.

"I never slept around with anyone," Julie cried, tears streaming down her face as she shook her head violently.

Roman grimaced as he watched her. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and he thought, Why is she crying? Shouldn’t she be happy that I’m offering myself to her freely?

His cold, black eyes narrowed as he stared at her intensely, determined to find out if Julie was telling the truth. Was she really not the kind of woman he had imagined?

Ignoring her desperate expression, Roman reached out—his hand landing on the back of her head in an instant.

The next moment, he pressed his lips against hers.

Julie’s eyes widened in shock. She froze in his arms, stiff with disbelief.

Then, like a needle had jolted her awake, she began to struggle.

She pushed against him with all her strength, hoping he would release her.

But to her surprise, Roman was too strong. He held her down effortlessly, ignoring her resistance.

"Don’t..." Julie whispered, fear trembling in her voice.

She was terrified of what he might do next, of how far he might go—and she knew she couldn’t bear it.

Still struggling, Julie felt Roman’s eyes grow darker—colder.

His expression was unreadable, but the grip of his hand was anything but gentle.

As she tried to push him away, he caught her wrist, lifted her arm above her head, and held it there firmly with one hand, effectively pinning her down.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly with panic. The tears hadn’t stopped. She could barely breathe.

"Allow me," Roman said, his voice surprisingly soft—almost tender—but there was a weight behind those words.

He didn’t wait for a response, didn’t give her the space to say what he already assumed would be another refusal.

And then his lips were on hers again.

"Umm..." Julie let out a muffled sound, her voice caught between protest and helplessness.

Roman’s mouth moved over hers, slow and deliberate, and his tongue gently forced her lips apart.

Tears slid down the sides of her face, tracing hot paths down her cheeks, pooling in her ears, and wetting the bedsheets beneath her head.

She was overwhelmed—not just by his strength, but by the sheer force of emotion crashing inside her.

Confusion. Fear. Sadness. Shame.

Roman kissed her over and over, waiting—pleading in his own silent way—for her to react.

To melt into it. To return it. But her lips remained stiff and unmoving. Her body rigid.

His brow furrowed in frustration. Doesn’t she know how to kiss? Doesn’t she know how to respond? he thought, bewildered.

He pulled back slowly, studying her face, as if searching for a deeper answer.

Julie looked up at him, her face blotched with tears, eyes glossy and red.

For a moment, she thought—prayed—that he might stop. That maybe he’d come to his senses and release her.

But instead, he spoke again. The question hit her like a thunderclap.

"Don’t you know how to respond to a kiss?" he asked, his deep voice brushing her ear like a secret, thick with confusion, not malice.

His breath was warm against her skin. A shiver ran down her spine—not from fear, but from the weight of the moment.

Julie blinked. Once. Twice. Her mouth parted, but no words came. Then, slowly, she nodded.

It was the question. The question she’d always feared... and yet, somehow, longed to hear.

Not because it hurt—but because it recognized something in her that no one else had ever bothered to see.

All her life, people assumed. Assumed she was experienced. Assumed she was wild.

Assumed that being quiet meant being mysterious, being withdrawn meant being easy.

But no one had ever asked.

Until now.

Roman, of all people, had asked.

And though it embarrassed her to the core, though the shame made her want to vanish into the bed beneath her, she felt something else blooming inside her—something raw and honest.

She was ready to give the answer. Because this time, for the first time, someone had actually wanted to know.

Though it was embarrassing, Julie was a hundred percent willing to give that answer.

It was that no one had ever cared enough to ask—but Roman had. And that made all the difference.

She nodded slowly, her tears still fresh, her body trembling slightly. For a moment, Roman just stared at her, taking in her response.

Then, without a word, he sat up on the bed, the silence between them heavy, almost sacred.

He looked at her with a raised brow, surprise flickering in his expression. He still couldn’t quite believe it.

She really doesn’t know how to kiss? he thought, stunned. We’re in the 21st century...

He turned to face her fully, disbelief painted across his face.

"Come here," he said gently, reaching out a hand toward her.

Julie hesitated, unsure of what he wanted, but something in his tone—calmer now, softer—made her reach for his hand.

He helped her sit up on the bed, guiding her to settle comfortably in front of him.

For the first time, the tension in the room started to ease.

"Tell me something," Roman said, his voice still low but no longer forceful—just curious.

Julie looked at him with tear-filled eyes and gave a small nod. "Hmm?"

Roman held her gaze, his deep blue eyes as still and unreadable as the ocean before a storm.

"Are you a virgin?" he asked, his voice serious but not mocking—genuinely trying to understand.

His eyes searched hers, waiting.

Julie’s gaze dropped to the floor instantly, her hands tightening in her lap.

The question, though direct, pierced a very old fear. Her lips trembled.

"C’mon," Roman said, more gently this time.

He lifted her chin with a hooked finger beneath her jaw, coaxing her to look up at him. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, she met his eyes. And then, very slowly, she nodded.

A sharp breath left Roman’s chest. He closed his eyes, not out of frustration at her—but at himself. Regret began to burn in his stomach.

’ Why didn’t I ask her this from the beginning?’ he thought bitterly.

"I am," Julie finally whispered, giving voice to the truth she had always carried but never shared.

It was the answer he thought would make him feel better—righteous, even.

But instead, it struck him like a blade to the chest.

The weight of her innocence, her honesty, hit him harder than he expected. He felt... ashamed.

"What about all that stuff online? The trending posts?" he asked, needing to hear her side. He needed to know what was real.

Julie took a shaky breath and looked up at him, her voice trembling but clear. "That was all a lie."

Roman’s brow rose in surprise, his eyes narrowing slightly with doubt.

"I’ve never had a boyfriend," she said, holding his gaze with newfound strength. "I’ve never kissed anyone. Not even by accident. Sex? Never. And whoring around?" Her voice cracked, but she kept going, refusing to let shame silence her. "Not once. Not ever."

Her words hung in the air like shattered glass,raw, painful, and real.

Tears rolled down her cheeks again, but this time they carried the weight of memory—memories of being judged, misread, ridiculed.

She remembered the whispers behind her back, the way people looked at her like they knew her when they knew nothing at all.

Roman stared at her, quiet and still. For a long moment, he said nothing.

Then, slowly, he reached for her hand.

Julie flinched, unsure of what to expect, but his touch was warm—gentle.

"It’s okay," he said softly.

Julie looked up, startled by the sincerity in his voice.

His hand tightened slightly around hers, grounding her.

And in that moment, something shifted between them.

The fear was still there, but it was softer now. The hurt hadn’t vanished, but it had been seen.

For the first time, Julie felt like maybe—just maybe—she didn’t have to defend herself anymore.

"So... everything was a lie. You’re pure," Roman whispered to himself, almost in disbelief.

The words slipped from his lips like a realization he hadn’t expected to feel so deeply.

A strange excitement stirred quietly in his chest—something close to awe, but heavier. He hadn’t prepared for this.

Across from him, Julie’s tears flowed freely now, like a dam had been broken.

She sobbed, her small shoulders trembling with each breath, but she didn’t dare make a sound louder than a whisper.

Fear still lingered—fear of offending the man before her, fear that if she cried too loudly, the comfort might vanish.

Roman’s gaze was fixed on her, but something inside him twisted painfully as he watched her cry.

And then—without thinking, without planning—he moved.

Julie’s eyes widened in surprise as she suddenly found herself enveloped in strong arms.

Roman had pulled her gently but firmly into his embrace.

The warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart against her cheek, and the protective curve of his arms wrapped around her like a shield from everything she’d been hiding from.

He began patting her back, slowly and carefully. "It’s okay," he murmured, his voice so soft and low it melted the last of her resistance.

The gentleness in his tone was unexpected, and it wrapped around her like a blanket.

Her body trembled in his arms, the tears refusing to stop—as if they’d waited for this moment to finally be free.

They soaked the upper part of Roman’s shirt, but he didn’t seem to care.

His hand gently stroked her head, smoothing her hair in a rhythmic motion, as if he had done this before.

Roman didn’t know what came over him.

He had never embraced someone like this.

Never comforted anyone so intimately since she break him shattered.But in this moment, none of that mattered.

All that mattered was the fragile girl in his arms—crying like no one had ever let her before.

Time passed in quiet sobs and gentle touches.

Finally, when her breathing slowed and the shaking lessened, Julie gently pulled away, just enough to put a little space between them.

Her eyes remained low, her cheeks flushed with shyness.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. Her heart beat wildly in her chest.

This was the first time she’d ever been comforted in a man’s arms—held this close, this gently—and it felt overwhelming, but not wrong.

Roman didn’t say anything for a moment. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes remained fixed on her.

"Go wash your face," he said at last, his voice even but not cold.

Julie nodded quickly and stood. She disappeared into the bathroom.

Minutes passed.

When she returned, she looked freshly washed. The redness in her cheeks was gone, and her skin glowed softly under the bathroom light.

But her eyes—still puffy and tired—were proof of everything she had just released.

Roman was still seated on the bed, watching her.

"Come," he said, his voice low and magnetic—something in the way he said it made her feet move before she could think.

She walked toward him.

Not knowing what came next.

Not knowing what he wanted.

But somehow, no longer afraid.