Red Awakening: (Red Knight #2) (12 page)

Chapter 12: His Terms

Liz

We said our goodbyes to everyone at the party. Mum was intoxicated, wilting over the chair next to long suffering Geoff. I kissed her head and received nothing but a drunken mumble. Cate and Dom were getting a bit too close, leaving Pete talking trains with a very interested Kim. And Nathan and Sara were the only ones left on the dancefloor, uninterested by our departure.

Now we’re travelling up the drive between the oak trees, toward Adrien’s home here in Killiecrankie. He once told me he plans to sell this place. But it’s so beautiful, I’m tempted to make him change his mind.

Ben cuts out the engine of the black Mercedes, which has been decorated tastefully with ivory ribbon. I lift my head from Adrien’s chest, glancing up at the building my love for him took my heart.

Ben gets out and opens the door for me with a sweet valiant bow. Poor Ben, he’s worked so hard today, catering to everyone’s whims on Adrien’s orders. Having his head bitten off due to the unwanted appearance of, Selene. I smile up to him as I step out onto the gravel.

“Ben.” I hold his forearm. “You’ve been a star today, thank you.” I rise up on my toes and peck his cheek.

“It’s his job,” Adrien jokes.

“No it is not, he’s family, and you should credit him more.”

“Elizabeth, getting a real thank you out of him, is like farting gold dust,” Ben laughs.

Adrien grabs hold of Ben and they do the macho patting on the back thing.

“See,” Ben pulls back. “That’s as good as it gets. Now you two, have work to do.” He winks cheekily, getting back into the Merc to drive away.

I take a breath and rotate, to suddenly find myself up in Adrien’s arms. I giggle, cherishing his warm eyes.

“Mrs Knight.” I laugh, because even though I love it, the name change is going to take some getting used to. “The first threshold of many.” I frown as he carries me toward the door. “We’ll only be here for one night. Then we move on.”

“Move on where?” I’m impatient to know.

“Ah,” he teases. “This is only our first port of call. I intended keeping it from you. But I know when tomorrow comes, you’ll give me a migraine, grilling me.” His pupils disappear under his lids, as he goes annoyingly quiet.

My belly flurries. “You have to tell me now.”

“It will be very private, with stunning scenery.” His lips seal with a cocky grin.

“Adrien,” I squeal.

“Tomorrow, we fly to Italy, and that’s all you are going to get out of me.”

Okay, I’m not going to let my quivering happy lips release this excited scream I’m holding inside, no matter how difficult it is. But jeez, Italy and stunning scenery. I’ve kind of got a tiny inkling we’re going to one of the lakes. I could just blurt it out and dance around the room, but I won’t. I’m going to be mature like Adrien.

“Hmm… and what clothes am I supposed to take with me?”

I haven’t packed a suitcase. All I brought here with me is my small overnight bag, and that is back at the hotel.

“It’s all been taken care of… thanks to Cate and Sara.”

Shit. Cate packing my clothes. Sara organising my underwear. God, I dread to think what kind of outfits they’ve conjured up for me. I’ll probably have several ultraviolet mini dresses to choose from, an array of uncomfortable cheese string thongs, and transparent bras.

“Stop worrying. I told them to purchase only what you would wear.” 

He sure knows how to throw a spanner into the works. My mind is now whizzing with eagerness. I must pull myself together, my giggling is not the greatest sultry look for him to witness on our wedding night. I tenderly nibble at his bottom lip. I have to do something, and imagining us consummating our marriage, is working very well.  

He places me down carefully and my breath is taken. The sofa and table have been removed. Now there’s a huge thick cream rug, with white scatter cushions and blankets set before the fire. Red and white rose petals are scattered beneath my satin shoes, which lead from the door to the rug. Candles are lit, warmly glinting all around our makeshift bed. And there’s a bottle of champagne with two flutes on the mantel. It reminds me of a scene from a woodland cabin on a winter’s night. 

He tugs my hand, waking me from my trance. “Elizabeth.” He kisses my outer ear, delicately. “I want to make love to my wife.” My chest flutters as I turn to him. “Go and freshen up.”

“I need you… to untie me,” I nearly moan out.

“Hmm.” His lips purse wickedly.

His fingers snake around my waist and turn me with force, so my hands land shoulder length apart on the wall. I peer beneath my arm to see him removing his jacket, rolling up his sleeves, gazing like he’s about to do some serious work on me. God, this dress, no matter how gorgeous it may be, is now a hindrance. I dig my fingernails into the wall, waiting on tenterhooks.

He sways side to side, lingering with predatory eyes. Then his finger, just one, winds down my neck softly. I angle my chin down with a silent gasp as he begins to unravel me, one button at a time. With each pluck, his touch creates a hypersensitive sensation all over my skin. I have to swallow the urge narrowing my throat, repeatedly. And I can sense the heat of the flaming candles on my bare flesh, as the back of my dress falls apart, like my whole being is doing right now. He stops, and I feel his eyes on me.

“Elizabeth,” his low voice and cool breath excite my pores. “You have a bag in the bathroom… I want this to be perfect.” He kisses the base of my neck. “I want you to please me, slowly, deeply, all night long.”

I turn to him in darkness, parting my eyelids to see his pleading expression, and wow, he’s so right. I want tonight to last; to be unadulterated and memorable in every way imaginable.

I approach the stairs, knowing that this is a big deal; knowing that this isn’t just about a quick fuck. It is as important as sliding the wedding ring onto his finger. It’s a loving ritual. A commitment. Flesh on flesh.

                                                          ***

I unzip the black leather bag on the grey marble bathroom counter. Jeez, there’s all-sorts in here: toothbrush, hair brushes, make-up, and deodorant. There is even a brand new bottle of Hugo Red; the perfume I haven’t used since that night at The Mill, when I nearly hurled all over him. I smile, feeling overwhelmed as I step out of my dress. Carefully, I retrieve it from the cream floor tiles, and lie it over the edge of the bathtub. I squirt a little of the Hugo Red under each ear and over my wrists, then give my teeth a quick brush.

Now I’m standing in my lingerie: lace ivory bra, lace hipster briefs, suspender belt, and stockings, but I’m unsure. It’s the belt and stockings that I don’t like. My feet just don’t look very sexy, and I feel like I’m wearing socks.

I hum and argh for a few second, then quickly remove the belt, and whip off the stockings. Much better. I grab the white fluffy bathrobe from the door, inhale, and make my way out onto the landing.

                                                           ***

As soon as my eyes find him, my heart quivers at what I class to be: hot as hell, sexy as sin, beauty. He’s lying naked on his side, with a blanket strewed over his perfect pale skin. His view is static on me standing here, wrapped up in this thick bathrobe. Oh god, I feel like I’m being judged.

Think sexy thoughts Liz. Okay, so you’ve never purposely modelled underwear for him. But he’s seen every inch of you. He’s tasted and touched you. Stop being so bloody uptight.

I breathe out and reach up to the pearl comb in my hair. Gently, I slide out the teeth and remove the clip to let down my locks. He watches as I position the loose curls over my shoulder, and place the comb on the mantel.  

“Ready?” His sultry eyes pull me in.

My bare feet move across the cool parquet floor. I stop with the tips of my toes delving into the edge of the soft downy rug. His bicep tenses as he manoeuvres up slightly to see me better. I pull on the towel belt, revealing my lace clad skin, and let the bathrobe fall to the floor. The moments overwrought; hot and sensual. My lungs fill with carnal anticipation as his desiring golden gaze soaks me up.

He swallows. “Elizabeth.” His jaw pulses. “Don’t make me wait.”

The candle light fluctuates as I lie down by his side. I curl my toes into the rug as he scoops his hand over my neck. He stares down at me, doesn’t say a word, and moves to my face. I cup his cheek with one hand and the other I trail over the curvature of his smooth hip. He progresses over my weakened desperate body, his lips caressing mine, so slow, so soft. This is completely different and wonderful. I’m emotionally stirred, not only by lust, but love.

He rests his head on mine and we gaze into each other. I swig away the growth choking me, and his breath I breathe in. He moves up over me. I shut my eyes as his hand sweeps down over my nipple and belly, his fingers coming to a stop over the damp lace, teasing me with slight strokes.

“My wife,” he says, brushing over my sex so damn slowly. “My lover.” I release a frustrated moan as he slips my panties down. “You will never want for anything.” He crawls up over my body, and I feel his erection touching my opening, faintly. “I’m nothing,” he almost growls into my mouth, coaxing my eyes to open. “Without you.”

He enters me with a gradual lunge. He’s savouring and staring into me like I am his mirror; our expectations of this night the same. My fingertips claw into his back as he moves me so we’re both sitting upright. My legs wind around him as we grind together, slow, deep, and hard. His hands scour up my spine to cradle me into his body tighter.  

“I love you,” I whisper, urgently.

His hips rise and his hands slam down onto the floor behind him. My clit swells and throbs, making me sigh out in delight as I thrust myself against him. He’s brought out my wildness; the sexual instinct that makes me forget who I am. I’m unable to contain the animalistic sounds, as my sex leaks onto his.

“That’s it… Come for me Elizabeth” he demands.

Sweat laces my top lip. I call out his name as his fingers pull at the roots of my hair.
Hell, this is so freaking hot.
Our hands are everywhere, gripping, squeezing, and frantic. We are one right now, but need so badly to be even closer, working hard to gage the ultimate bliss.

His knees bend into my back as he thrusts up into my body. His hand grasps my neck and he’s grunting as we love fuck. My body shudders as the most intense orgasm floods from me.

“Oh god!”

“That’s it, scream for me.” He clutches my waist so hard it hurts; a good kind of hurt. “SHIT!” he growls out, panting into my chest as he peaks passionately. “That was…was…” he can’t get his words out.

Greatly overwhelmed by the constant rush of feelings surging through my blood, I hold back a small tear in my eye as we relax against each other.

“Like the first time every time,” he says, guiding me back so he can look into my eyes. “You complete me.” His nose brushes against mine.

I close my eyes. This is so perfect, but a sudden unwanted doubt has crept into my mind. It isn’t caused by Adrien, but by meeting Selene for the first time today. Why did she have to turn up, acting all creepy and dark?

“What happens if we lose this?” I ask.

He frowns at me. “We won’t.”

“And how can you be sure?”

“Because I know everything,” he smiles. “Like I know you were put on this earth just for me.” I giggle at his cheesy comment. “I told you before, your unique scent had an impact on my soul. You and I are bound together in both light and dark. You were made for me by design. I cannot be without your touch, and you cannot be without mine. It is as simple as that, Elizabeth,” he states, clear cut.

I’m all for loving sentimental compliments, but my Adrien sure knows how to put a spin on words. I’m unable to hold back a giggle.

“Why the hell is that funny?” he laughs with me. “Oh, I forgot, you find me cheesy.”

“No I don’t,” I squeal.

He playfully slaps my ass so I elevate a little; my walls releasing his relaxed cock. I dismount and curl up beside him, with my head against his chest.

“I just find it hard to accept such nice comments.”

“They’re cold hard facts, so learn to accept them.”

I smile, running my fingers over his nipple. “Never.”

I watch the wax from one of the church size candles melt and drip, as my lips discharge a serene sigh.

“Are you not going to sleep?” he asks.

“I can sleep on the plane tomorrow.”

“Elizabeth, it is tomorrow.”

I blow out. “It’s fine for you. You can enjoy every minute of every day without needing repetitive mundane sleep.”

“You make it sound attractive,” he hums. “Believe me, it’s not.”

“Well sleep is overrated. Wasting all those hours in a day so you don’t feel like crap. Today has been wonderful, and it’s too valuable to spend sleeping.”

“Stubborn as always.”

I prop myself up on my elbow. “So, you really miss it then?”

“It’s the one thing that I miss the most.”

“Why?”

He tucks one of the cream scatter cushions under his head, as my eyes fall down onto his naked chest.