Chapter 14
She needs to rest. She needs to cool her eye.
But all I notice is her soft, smooth skin, her toned legs, that damn garter belt—and fuck, she’s not wearing any panties.
SHE’S WEARING FUCKING NOTHING UNDER THAT BATHROBE!
I’m so hard it hurts, and I can’t wait. I can’t help but climb onto the bed with her and let my hands glide up her legs while I stare at her wet center.
“You need to cool your eye,” I tell her like I’m hypnotized, but she just looks at me, and the pure desire in her eyes makes me swallow hard.
“Later. You wanted to take a closer look at the garter.” Her voice is no more than a soft breath, yet it pierces me, sending goosebumps all over my body.
“Hmmm, I did,” I murmur, fascinated, slowly stroking along her calf. I watch as the fine hairs on her skin stand up when I draw a delicate line upward until I finally reach the garter.
“Pretty nice, but I’d rather have what it’s attached to.”
Fuck, I want her.
Now.
Without warning, I grab her ankles and pull her toward me. She gasps, but her eyes glitter with eagerness. The knot of her bathrobe has loosened, letting the delicate fabric fall completely open, giving me a clear view of her beautiful, naked body.
“This will probably be quick. I’ll make it up to you later,” I apologize in advance and slide my sweatpants down.
I lean over her and can’t resist running my fingers over her stomach, up to her breasts, circling her nipples and giving them a light pinch.
Amelia leans into me and moans softly and shit, I’m going to die if I don’t get to be inside her right now.
“Nicolas… please,” she whines, wrapping her legs around my hips to pull me closer.
“Oh, your wish is my command, Goldilocks.” I brace myself on either side of her head and thrust hard into her. We both moan because she feels amazing wrapped around me.
Fuck.
I’ll never want to look at anyone else the way I look at her. And I certainly won’t want to fuck them. Princess Amelia of Harlington belongs to me. And I belong to her.
I start moving gently, but she shakes her head, lifting her hips even more.
“Not gentle… more… I want more,” she whispers hoarsely, and I give her what she wants. My hand slides under her ass, lifting it to press her even tighter against me.
“Hold on tight, Goldilocks,” I pant, and she does as I say, gripping the wood of the bedframe with her hands. I moan again as I move even deeper inside her. She takes every hard thrust I give, encouraging me by wrapping her legs even tighter around me.
Fuck, I’m in heaven.
I pull my hand back under her and clench it into a fist beside her head, pushing myself all the way on top of her. My lips crash onto hers, and I feel like I’m in a frenzy. Her tongue, her taste, her tightness, her complete surrender, kills me.
I belong to her.
Our rhythm gets faster, wilder. She whimpers and pants in my mouth until she almost explosively contracts around me.
“OHHH GOOODDD,” she moans, and that sound makes me come hard too. Breathing heavily, I collapse on top of her, unable to move. Automatically, her hand strokes my back, and I have to smile at this small but so meaningful gesture.
“You okay?” I ask hoarsely, lifting my head, then burst out laughing because Amelia lies there with such a self-satisfied expression on her face, even though her eye and cheek are a little swollen.
“Yesss, I’m fine,” she purrs contentedly and smiles. And I swear by all that’s holy that smile is going to kill me someday.
I gently stroke her injury, kiss it softly.
“Does it still hurt?”
She shakes her head and runs her fingers through my hair, and I shiver again because it feels so good.
“No. But I probably should cool it and…” She yawns deeply, and I laugh again because she’s just being herself, completely relaxed. And I like that.
“Someone’s a little tired… wonder why?” I tease, and she smacks my ass.
“Hey, today I had to deal with a not-so-enthusiastic crowd, get married, face a bunch of people who don’t like me, defend mine and Lizzy’s honor, and have sex.
Plus a million liters of alcohol are in me.
So yes, I’m tired. But what I really wanted to say is that I need to shower again and then cool my eye and sleep,” she scolds me, playfully offended, and I immediately get serious because she’s right. It was a hell of a day.
I pull out of her, and she grimaces, pushing herself up so I don’t crush her.
“You did great today, Goldilocks. And as for the mob and the press, we’ll deal with that when we’re back here.”
“When we’re back here?” She gives me a questioning look and gets up too, and again I admire her incredible body. But when my eyes linger on her back and I see those fine silver lines again, a strange feeling comes over me.
“Earth to Nicolas, hello? I asked you something.” Amelia stands in the bathroom doorway and looks at me impatiently.
Oops. I forgot to answer because I was too busy staring, lost in thought.
“Oh, uh, about our honeymoon. We’re leaving early tomorrow,” I say casually, as if we’re talking about the weather, and I’ve never seen a face light up like that.
“Honeymoon? We’re going away?” I nod, and her eyes start sparkling wildly, making me smile.
“I’ve never been anywhere else… I mean, I only know Harlington. My parents and my brother never allowed me to go. I…” She hesitates and comes back, wrapping her arms around my waist and resting her head on my chest.
Shit, what must her parents and brother have done for her to get so excited about something so simple?
“Thank you,” she murmurs, touched, against my chest, and a warm feeling spreads inside me.
“We’ll leave pretty early. Considering your bruise, it’s better if no one sees us for now. And Eric will handle the press in the meantime.” She lifts her head slightly and looks up at me as I gently trace the purple under her eye.
“Go shower. Then we’ll sleep, okay?”
“Aye aye, Captain,” she agrees, stands on tiptoes and kisses me gently.
And I’m the happiest bastard in the world.
Waking up beside Amelia, or rather with her pressed tightly against me, feels unfamiliar, but it’s good, damn good actually.
She’s still fast asleep, and it’s incredibly hard to break away from the warmth and softness of her body against mine.
But I can’t wait any longer. We need to be gone before the press gets wind of this, that’s what I promised my mother.
No one knows where we’re going except Cedric and Lizzy. But they’ll keep their mouths shut.
Carefully, I slip out of my wife’s embrace. She murmurs something softly in her sleep, then curls into a little ball and doesn’t wake.
She looks so tiny and delicate, I can’t stop staring at her. This is actually only the second night we’ve spent together in our bedroom, but I never want it any other way.
I quietly make my way to the bathroom for a shower, then head to the dressing room to pack a few things. The rest I’ve already had sent ahead, so no one will find us easily.
I want to get to know Amelia. Alone, without all this circus around us. We only have a few days, but that’s better than nothing.
The backpack is quickly packed, and when I return to the bedroom, Amelia is sitting cross-legged on the bed, blinking sleepily at me. Her eye now shimmers in various shades of violet, but at least it’s not completely swollen shut.
“Hey, how are you feeling?” I sit down beside her on the edge of the bed and lean forward to place a gentle kiss on her. A dreamy smile appears on her face, and my heart jumps because she always manages to stun me like this.
“Surprisingly well, if you ignore that my face probably looks like it got run over,” she grimaces briefly before running her hand through her curls. “God, I really got into a fight, didn’t I?” She looks at me as if hoping I’ll deny it, and I can’t help but smile at her.
“Yep. You did. But hey, the other one looks worse,” I tell her and laugh out loud as she shoots me a deadly glare.
“That’s not funny. She’ll twist this against me or go to the press or…”
“Hey, hey, hey, take it easy, Goldilocks. Sarah won’t do any of that.
I’ll make sure of it. Besides, there are dozens of witnesses who can confirm she started it.
Including me, Cedric, and Damien. So just breathe.
She deserved it,” I reassure her and pull her into my arms. She’s better off there anyway.
“It still shouldn’t have happened. I’m making you look bad,” she mutters into my shirt, and I stroke her hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.
“You do know who you’re married to, right?
Prince Selfish Asshole. Nothing’s going to happen.
Now, Goldilocks, get dressed. We have to go.
Jeans and hoodie will do.” I push her gently away and shoo her off the bed.
She grumbles a bit but moves, and within the next twenty minutes, we quietly leave the castle together.
But when she realizes how we’ll be traveling, she stops abruptly.
“Don’t tell me we’re riding that?” She turns to me incredulously, and I laugh because her look is a mix of panic and fascination.
“Yes, exactly. That way, we can get away quickly and stay under the radar. Or were you planning to bring bodyguards and all that fuss with us?”
With a raised eyebrow and crossed arms, I size up my little wife and have to hold back a grin. You can clearly see the angel and devil wrestling inside her, but she finally snorts and nods resignedly.
“Alright, but if I don’t come back in one piece and alive, it’s on you, and if I throw up, that’s definitely your fault.
” She looks up at me with a defiant glare, and damn, I’m falling for this woman more with every second.
There she stands, in her black hoodie and tight black jeans, her curls casually tied back.
She tried to hide the bruise with makeup, not completely successful, but good enough.
“I promise on my life you’ll arrive everywhere alive and in one piece. As for the puking… well, no guarantees there. But please warn me in time.” I grin and give her a playful nudge on the nose, which she promptly wrinkles.
“HA HA, very funny, mister. Easy for you to say, you ride this beast every day. I’ve never even been close to one, aside from your machine,” she retorts with a playful pout, a captivated sparkle already gleaming in her eyes as she steps closer to me.
I’ve specially bought her a helmet in dark purple with a tinted visor, and a motorcycle jacket in her size.
“Put it on.” Her eyebrows shoot up at my command, but she takes the jacket and slips it on without a word. My mouth goes dry as she picks up the helmet—fuck, she looks hot.
Amelia inspects it briefly, shrugs, and puts it on. But she can’t manage to close the strap, so I step close and help her.
“You wanted freedom, Goldilocks… now you’re getting it,” I whisper as I pull down her visor.
“You don’t have to do much except hold on tight to me.
When we take a curve, just lean with me.
It’ll feel scary the first few times, but don’t worry, we won’t fall.
” After giving her this last instruction, I sling our backpack over her, and we climb on.