Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
REBEKKA
Dessert seems to take forever to get through. The waiters make an entire spectacle of flambéing the baked Alaska at the table. The only thing I want to eat is Rian. My mouth is literally watering for him after our encounter in the hot tub earlier.
We were lucky we didn’t get caught, but as the minutes turn to hours, I find myself caring less and less.
Being here with Rian’s family is like starring in a fairytale. They’re all so lovely, so welcoming, so funny, and natural around each other.
I can’t remember the last time I felt so at ease, and that’s even with them joking about us in the hot tub. Adultery is not a laughing matter, and it’s not something that I’m committing lightly, but given my husband’s been at it for years, I don’t feel nearly as guilty as I should.
He’s had plenty of happy endings along the way.
I’m going to grab mine with both hands.
One more night, then I’ll go back to being the respectable banker’s wife, keeping my head down and my nose clean.
Finally, Mrs Beckett rises from the head of the table, smoothing the satin of her midnight-blue gown. ‘Let’s take a digestive through to the drawing room. The fire should be perfect by now. Champagne or brandy, everyone?’
‘Champagne, please,’ Scarlett and Avery chime together.
‘Whiskey, please,’ Ivy says.
‘Your wife has exceptional taste.’ Rian’s father beams at Caelon. Alexander’s father, Rian’s grandfather, was the original founder of Beckett’s Whiskey. Rian told me all about it on Christmas Day night.
‘I’d have to agree,’ Caelon says, smoothing a hand suavely over the front of his tuxedo. A titter of laughter follows as chairs scrape back and the Becketts rise. Rian pushes his own chair out and waits until I’ve gathered the folds of my dress before leaning close.
‘Fancy a quick tour of the house first?’ His voice is low, pitched with promise. ‘The others will be busy debating brandy measures for at least an hour.’
My pulse gives an unhelpful lurch. ‘Sure. A tour sounds… good.’ My tone is way too breezy, but somehow I manage not to squeak.
He offers an arm. I slip my hand through before I can overthink it. We leave the hum of voices behind, stepping into the wide corridor beyond the dining room. Candlelight gleams along the polished panels, catching on the ornate gilt frames and old family portraits.
‘This place is unreal,’ I murmur, taking in the sweep of the staircase and the glow of sconces against dark wood.
‘My father bought it years ago to escape the city. Claims the mountains keep him honest.’ He leads me along a passage lined with large windows.
A crescent moon hangs low in the sky. The snow is still falling outside, soft flakes lining the window frames and dancing over the glass.
I catch our reflection—his tux, my dress, we make quite the couple—in a parallel universe at least.
‘Let’s start with the library, given your love of literature.’ He pauses at a pair of dark wooden double doors, carved with curling ivy leaves. With a firm push, they swing inward.
I suck in a breath. Rows of shelves climb from floor to ceiling, crammed with leather spines in jewel colours.
A rolling ladder glides along one wall. An enormous hearth anchors the far end, flames throwing honeyed light across claret-coloured armchairs and a deep piled rug.
The scent of polished oak, leather, and old paper wraps around me like a spell.
I wander in, fingertips grazing the nearest shelf. ‘Wow.’ My voice comes out as a whisper. ‘This is straight-up Beauty and the Beast.’
Rian smiles, slow and wicked, but there’s softness there too. ‘No need to ask who is who in this scenario.’ He closes the doors behind us with an easy click, the noise muffled by velvet curtains.
‘I don’t know.’ I twist to face him. ‘You’re devastatingly beautiful, in that raw, masculine way.’
‘Is that right?’ He inches closer until his lips are millimetres from mine. The only sounds are my shaky breathing and the crackle of the open fire at the far side of the room.
‘Yes, though I hate giving you a big head, Baby Beckett.’
‘How about you let me give the head around here?’ His dark eyes catch the firelight, reflecting the same hunger that no amount of food will ever satiate.
I sweep my lips over his, unable to stop myself. ‘I thought I told you, you come in my mouth tonight.’
The corner of his mouth lifts, daring and inviting all at once. ‘On the rug. Now.’ It isn’t up for debate. Heat pools in my panties. This man. He might just be the death of me.
I stalk towards it with more confidence than I feel. If we’re really going to do what he suggested earlier, I have no idea how that works. On our sides maybe?
I slow to a stop when I feel the plush carpet beneath my feet. I turn to him uncertainly, ‘I’m not sure…’ I trail off.
‘It’s okay, baby. Let me show you.’ He drops to his knees on the floor in front of me and hitches up the layers of my dress. ‘So fucking perfect,’ he murmurs as his mouth runs over my thigh.
‘This wasn’t the deal,’ I remind him as his face drifts further between my legs.
‘Fine.’ He rocks back to a sitting position, then slowly lowers himself onto his back on the rug. The firelight throws shadows over his wicked smile. ‘Come, sit on my face.’
My core clenches. I’ve never done that before—obviously, given I’ve never had oral before him, but this feels... carnal… more depraved or something. Hot as fuck, but there’s a prudishness that’s holding me back.
‘Sit. On. My. Face. Sweetheart.’ He punctuates every word, beckoning me closer with his index finger. ‘I want to lick every single one of your tight little holes.’
Fuck. My lingerie is destroyed. Again. I lower myself to straddle his waist. His enormous erection digs into my backside, and fuck, now there’s a thought…
another thing I’ve never tried before, but I would try anything this man suggested because never in my life have I wanted anyone as much as I want him.
‘Higher,’ he commands, beckoning me again with his finger. ‘I’ve been dreaming about having my mouth on you again since I took it off you the last time.’
I shuffle upwards, feeling the hard planes of his chest between my thighs. It’s almost enough to get me off alone. I hover, hesitating an inch below his chin.
‘Pull your panties to the side and let me lick your pretty clit.’
‘Your filthy mouth might just be the undoing of me.’ I reach for the lace between my legs and pull it to the side. His eyes drop, desire swimming in his dark irises.
‘I could look at you all damn day,’ he hisses.
‘The feeling is mutual.’ I turn my head, eyeing the bulge at his crotch. ‘But I need to taste you.’
‘Turn around,’ he demands, placing his hands on my hips and guiding me.
I follow his lead, trying to forget the fact that my ass is right in his face.
I reach for the buckle on his belt, feeling like a kid on Christmas morning as I free his long, thick hard length and fuck me…
maybe I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.
He is actually enormous.
Before I have time to worry about it, he lifts my hips and guides me back onto his face. His hot mouth melds to my clit, and I wrap my mouth around the tip of his cock to stop myself crying out.
He moans against my sex as I take him deeper, swirling my tongue around his shaft, then savouring the precum he rewards me with. His tongue slides expertly over my slit, and I moan around his cock.
Pleasuring him while he’s pleasuring me is fucking transcendent. Worryingly, I’m going to need more.
His tongue drifts backwards—to somewhere no one has ever gone before.
I freeze, rigid, unsure what to expect, but the sensation is utterly fucking sublime.
Heat suffuses my skin, scorching me from the inside out.
The fact we’re on the floor of his parents’ library and anyone could walk in only adds to the excitement.
My clit pulses greedily. I’m so close. He sinks two fingers deep into my core while his tongue continues to explore elsewhere.
Fuck it’s so dirty. It’s so fucking delicious.
I reach between his legs and massage his balls with my hands, licking and sucking until his hips jerk and hot spurts of cum hit the back of my throat.
I swallow and swallow and swallow, devouring every drop of him.
His moan reverberates between my legs as his thumb hits my clit.
I’m a split second behind him, exploding on his face.
My orgasm wracks my entire body, ravaging me with pure primal pleasure.
My thighs shake so hard he has to hold them as the final waves of pleasure crash over me before slowly ebbing away.
His low laughter thrums against my sensitive sex. ‘Fucking hell, Remington. You are the sexiest fucking woman I’ve ever met. Can we do that again?’
I roll off his face—there was no ladylike way to get off. Or at least if there was, I couldn’t think of it. Mind you, my brain is a muddle of post orgasm mush.
Before I can feel self-conscious, he rolls on top of me, pinning my arms to the rug above my head. ‘If you were mine, I’d do that every fucking day.’
‘As well as waking me up with your head between my legs?’ I inhale the scent of skin, dragging it deep into my lungs. ‘You’re really selling the idea to me, Mr Beckett.’
His deep laughter rumbles into my hair as he presses a kiss to my temple. ‘Good. It’s all part of my wicked plan to steal you away and keep you forever.’
We lie entwined in each other’s arms for several minutes in silence. He lifts his head from my chest to meet my eye. ‘You know, this is what we should have done the first night we met, in the De Courcy library.’
Laughter bursts from my lips. ‘Yeah, because that would have solved all our problems.’
‘Not necessarily, but I guarantee we’d be facing a different set than what we’re facing today.’
‘We’re not facing any,’ I lie. I’m facing loads. My husband’s a pompous prick, and with every day that passes I’m falling harder for his best friend.
Falling?
Fuck. No… this can’t happen.
‘I am, Rebekka.’ His dark eyes bore into mine. ‘The biggest problem being how the fuck I’m going to let you walk out of here tomorrow. How am I going to let you walk away from me? Back to him.’
I cup his chin in my hands, smoothing a thumb over his square jawline. ‘Don’t ruin tonight with thoughts of tomorrow. We both know what this is. What it can only ever be.’ There’s no hiding the sorrow in my tone, but it is what it is.
In true Rian style, he flips back to his old friend humour. ‘In that case, fuck the fireworks, feign a headache, and meet me in my bed in ten minutes.’ He forces a wide smile, but there’s no missing the ache in his eyes.
‘How about we join your family for the fireworks, then feign we’re tired, because we’re the only couple who didn’t sleep earlier.’
Couple.
Ha. I wish…
‘Deal.’ He presses a kiss to the tip of my nose. ‘Now take that “fuck me” look off your face, or they’ll know what we were up to.’
‘I have a feeling they know already.’