There’s a knock at the door. With a pat to my knee, Franny rises and opens it. And Simon Barrister gazes at her, not like she’s the prettiest girl in the world—but like she’s the center of his universe.
“Time to go, darling.” He grins.
Franny waves. “Goodnight, Olivia.”
“Thank you, Franny, for everything.”
As they walk through the door and down the hall, I hear Franny say, “I’m very drunk, Simon—you’re going to have to do all the work tonight.”
“Good by me, love. That’s one of my favorite ways to do it—along with all the others.”
I set my brandy glass on the table and close the door. Then I turn the lights down, slip off my robe, and get into bed.
The room is dark and still. Quiet enough to hear the scrape of the wall as it opens, and the footsteps that move steadily across the room. Nicholas appears beside my bed, kneeling like the stained-glass saints in the windows of his cathedral—gazing at me through the darkness with ravaged eyes.
“Forgive me.”
It’s hard not to feel bad for him, when his remorse is so raw and real.
“The night we met,” I tell him softly, “I heard your voice before I saw you, did you know that? It’s beautiful. Strong and deep and calming.” I swallow, tasting tears. “But now I keep hearing you say those awful things, in your lovely voice.”
“Forgive me,” he whispers, harsh and sad. “I was trying to protect you, I swear. Keep you…safe.”
I do forgive him. It’s just that easy. Because I understand now.
And because I love him.
My eyes have adjusted to the darkness and I see him clearly. The dim moonlight from the window highlights the angles of his face, the incline of his cheekbones, the arch of his stubborn chin, the sharp strength of his jaw, the swell of those full lips.
It’s the face of an angel. A fallen angel with secrets in his eyes.
“I don’t like it here, Nicholas.”
His brows pinch, like he’s in pain. “I know. I never should have brought you here. It’s the most selfish thing I’ve ever done. But…I can’t be sorry for it. Because you have come to mean everything to me.”
I lift the sheet, beckoning him, and he slides beneath it, our arms searching for each other in the darkness. Nicholas’s mouth covers mine, gentle but with an urgent press of desperation. I give him my tongue and he moans. The sound turns my limbs liquid and the sadness that lingered between us turns to need.
We need this.
With my heels, I push his pants off his hips, then I slide down his body, leaving kisses in my wake. His cock is already hard and beautiful. I didn’t think a penis could be…beautiful…but Nicholas’s is. It’s perfectly shaped, thick and hot in my hand, so smooth and glistening at the tip.
I take him fully in my mouth—beyond the ability to tease. And he sighs my name as I suckle him, my tongue tracing the silken skin and tight grooves.
With a gasp, Nicholas lifts me back up. Devouring my lips, he rolls us over, lifts my nightgown and slides inside me. And there’s still that stretch…that delicious feeling of being so perfectly full. He stops when he’s fully buried—when we’re as close and tied as two people could ever be.
His eyes shine in the darkness, and he strokes my cheek, just gazing down at me.
And I know I love him. It’s right there—on my lips—just waiting for breath to say the words out loud. He kisses me, and I give them over to him, but silently.
Because it’s all already so very complicated. And it feels like, once I say those words I’ll cross a threshold I won’t ever be able to turn back from. Walk away from.
Nicholas moves above me, inside me, deep and slow. Wringing out the pleasure from us both. My eyes close and I hold him, my arms around him, feeling the taut muscles in his back tighten with every thrust as my hands clutch his shoulder blades.
And I’m lost. Gone. Coasting in a stratosphere of searing bliss. It expands inside me, building, soaring…until I come with an opened-mouth cry. Pressing my lips against his neck, tasting him, breathing in the scent of his skin with every writhing gasp.
His thrusts quicken, becoming rougher as the intensity crests for him too. Until he pushes in deep one last time, and comes on a quiet gasp. I feel him inside me—hot and pulsing. And I clench around him so tight, wanting to keep him inside me forever.
Later, with my cheek on his warm chest and his strong arms heavy around me, I ask him, “What are we going to do?”
Nicholas kisses my forehead, holding on tighter.
“I don’t know.”
“PISS OFF, YOU BASTARD! I never liked you!”
“The best part of you leaked out of your mother to the wet spot on the bed, you tosser.”
“Sir Aloysius’s cock was the smartest thing that ever came out of your mouth!”
Welcome to Parliament. And you thought the Brits got rowdy.
Although, I admit, it’s not usually quite this bad.
“I’ll kill you! I’ll kill your family and I’ll eat your dog!”
Okay, then.
Normally, the Queen attends Parliament only to open and close out the year. But, given the state of Wessco’s economy, she called a special session. So both sides of the clearly drawn line could work out their differences.
It’s not going well. Mostly because there’s the royal family and the MPs who actually give a damn about the country on one side…and on the other is a great big bag of smelly dicks.
“Order!” I call out. “Ladies and gentlemen, for God’s sake—this is not a football stadium or a backstreet pub. Remember who you are. Where you are.”