Red Awakening: (Red Knight #2) (6 page)

This whole BDSM thing takes a lot of prep work. I was all raring to go two minutes ago. Now I’m here like some frigging nude bed mechanic, jacking up Adrien’s arms. I wouldn’t be surprised if a squirt of wd40 came into play with all this hassle.

Okay done. His arms are now stretched to full capacity, showing off his shapely firm biceps.
Liz, go now and seduce.

I swallow the lump in my neck and creep up the bed. I pass by his stiff erection, running my nose and bottom lip between his breast. I arrive at my first port of call, below his earlobe, and morsel. His ribcage swells and touches my sex, as he tilts his neck for me to bite, and I do. I pull a small section of his skin between my teeth, softly, making him groan deep.

My lips move to his cheek, then I see his affectionate eyes. I immediately stop. I can’t fucking do this. It’s so different than when he’s doing it to me. This feels criminal. I want his hands on me. I want him to pull at my hair, and position me wherever he wants. I want to be connected with him on all levels.

I rise on my knees and unfasten one of his wrists. He pants, losing his control, and grabs the back of my neck with force. He kisses me wholly, not bothered at all by my epic BDSM fail.

Breathlessly, I reach to the second cuff and undo, as his lips play with my nipple. As soon as he is free, his arms wrap tightly up my back.

“This is what I need Adrien,” I say in a strained hushed tone, as my sex welcomes his cock.

“Yes… I know.”

Liz

Bedroom. Bathroom. The wall in the hall. The kitchen work surface. All were a part of the night’s sexual antics. And now I have work in five hours and can’t get to sleep. Could you?

I’m on some crazy life changing path, and I’m determined to stay right on it. He is what he is, and I am what I am. He promised me normal, and us lying here like this, is just that.

My fingers route up his torso, winding around his soft neck to caress the tips of his hair. I love the feeling on my skin; it’s sensory and addictive. Rather like bubble wrap popping that ninety percent of the population cannot resist. I cannot resist the touch of my Knight. I’ve never been this happy, or felt such a belonging. Everything is marvellous, and I don’t want a single thing to change.

He cusps my hand and places it on his chest, as the moon shines through the nets and onto our bed.

“You really should sleep,” his slight voice reverberates through his chest.

“I can’t. Besides, I don’t really need to.” I angle my head to see him. “I can manage with just a few hours.”

“Yes you do, Elizabeth. Or you’ll be running on empty.”

“How can I sleep after everything…I mean this.” I slip my hand out from his and sit up. “This place. It’s going to be a long time before I’ll be able to get any shuteye.”

He sniggers, crossing his arms over his head. “Well you’re going to have to get used to it.” He swings his legs out of the bed to stand. “I have work to do, and can’t lie here any longer waiting for you to fall asleep.”

“Oh,” I huff. “I forgot about the whole sleep issue.”

“Elizabeth, it wouldn’t be an issue if you just closed your eyes.”

He walks toward the window. Wow, in this light he looks like some Grecian statue being blessed by moonbeams. I mischievously scan every inch of him as he makes his way into his closet. Would it be greedy of me to tell him he must come back to bed and pleasure me again?

He comes out in his navy joggers and white vest, scowling at me in disapproval.

“Don’t you look at me like that,” he grins. “I may not need sleep, and have a good sexual appetite, but you are seriously pushing your luck.” He tosses his pillow at me. “Now go to sleep.” He leaves the room and I fall back onto my lush comfy new bed.

                                                         ***

The orange glimmer of the morning sun sheds through the room as I strain to see. I sprawl out with a gaping yawn, then beam in morning glory. For the first time in since, well forever, I can’t wait to get out of bed.

I have nothing to wear, it’s all still packed up in my suitcase in the lounge, so I pull the white sheet from the bed, and wrap it around my body.

Adrien’s closet, they’ll be something in there I can put on until I sort out my things.

I squint up at the dark wood shelving. I’m not going to wear any of his shirts which are strategically hung. They all look so intimidating in their seamless military order. One missing, would definitely make the rail look chaotic.

I go to his more casual area. God, he has to have over twenty pairs of jeans in here, ranging from beige to black: Hugo Boss and Armani labels everywhere. And sweaters, consisting of the same brand: V-necks in every shade you could imagine. Now, the shelf above is definitely more me. I take a grey hoody, ease it over my head, and pull out my knotty hair. 

I tiptoe to the doors that lead into the lounge. Adrien is sitting at the dining table, reading the financial times. He’s wearing shades, which indicate he has a vampire migraine. These headaches of his are starting to worry me. With it being summer, they’re only going to get worse.

I bend over and unzip my suitcase, rummaging in a huff because I’ve basically just stuffed it full. Perfect, black leggings and my cream, meant to be creased, shirt.

I hear the newspaper crumple. I peer through my open arm, still bent over, to see Adrien staring at my butt with pleasantly shocked wide eyes.

“Good morning,” he almost sings.

I straighten up fast, holding my clothes in a ball to my chest. I really should have put some underwear on. My bare ass mooning directly at him from beneath his hoody, is not a good sight to see first thing. He may now know me inside out, but that doesn’t stop my embarrassment. I exhale and tug down his top.

“Morning.” Quickly, I dash back into the master bedroom.

I’m sitting on the small black leather buffet before my dressing table, brushing my hair over my shoulder. I gaze at my reflection, and my eyes swiftly shift as Adrien walks by me, seductively tucking a blue tie under the collar of his open shirt. Sexy, so very sexy. I gush at the sight of him.

He fiddles with his cuffs and notes me peering. So in an effort not to ogle, I begin to sluggishly pull the brush through my hair once more. He approaches my back with his naked flesh still enticing me from beneath the white cotton, and takes away my hairbrush. Oh my, he’s sweeping my hair from my shoulders, making sure the strands touch his firm abdomen. My eyes shut, enjoying the sensation of his slow strokes. I never thought that having my hair combed through would be so damn hot.

“Now, I have to go to work and so do you,” he says very calmly.

I’m not going nowhere in this state. “Do I now?”

My hair is still flush against his skin, and now his erection is touching my mid-back, trying to burst free from his zipper. I peer up at him in the reflection. His hands press down on my shoulders and clench. He’s waiting for my next move. I run my hand over his, and revolve on the leather. I face his belly and can smell his yummy cologne. I slide my hand down over his pubic hair, biting my lip. Screw work, this is much more important.

He unbuckles his black belt provocatively, and pulls down the zipper of his grey trousers. I purr out. He is so hard that his tight briefs fight to contain him. I take over and yank his trousers and briefs half way down his thighs, slipping my hands up over his fine backside as my lips part. I nibble his tip first, scraping my fingernails over the soft skin of his butt.

“Okay,” he grunts. “Elizabeth, bed now.”

As he moves to the bed, he strips off his clothing, wildly. All I have to do is remove my blouse, and it’s done in quick time. I crawl on the bed next to him, but fuck, he has a naughtier plan. He grabs my hips and positions me so we’re top to tail with my legs parted, and my sex only inches from his hungry mouth. Holy crap, please, please do not blow already.

“Hola…Hola.”

Who the fuck is that? I scuffle from Adrien and dive straight under the covers, my heart pounding hard.

Adrien jumps off the bed and scrabbles around the floor, giggling. He picks up his trousers, and quickly hops into them.

“Who the hell is that?” I hiss, heart going like the clappers.

“The cleaner,” he says, fastening his belt.

“The cleaner?” I squeak.

“We’ll have to pick this back up later.” His fingers flick up his shirt, fastening buttons.

“Hold on a second… the cleaner?”

He laughs. “Yes, Consuela,” he says, like I shouldn’t have a problem with it.

“And she has a key… can just waltz in here whenever she wants?”

“Elizabeth, what is wrong with you; of course she has a key.”

We have a cleaner. I don’t know whether I should feel privileged and like the idea, or hate it. I like my privacy. I don’t want someone I don’t know going through my stuff.

“You could have told me,” I sulk. “If I was alone, I could have bashed her over the head with something.”

He sits on the edge of the bed, slipping his black socks into his tanned leather shoes.

Am I being irrational about this? I saw myself looking after our new home. Rubber gloves, feather duster, the works. I want it to be our slice of paradise. Most people would love not having to do the dishes and laundry. But me, I kind of pictured myself washing Adrien’s smalls.

“Mr Knight,” she calls in a Spanish accent.

“Será un minute, Consuela.”
Hmm he speaks Spanish.
“Look,” he turns to me. “It’s a big place and I can tell your itching to do it yourself, but we’re both busy.” He stands, tightening his tie. “She does hours when we are supposed to be out at work. And if it pleases you I shall tell her that the master bedroom is off limits.” He stands up and arches to kiss my head. “I’ll see you this evening.”

                                                          ***

I made it to work just in the nick of time. I didn’t introduce myself to Consuela before I left. To be honest, I didn’t want to. So while she vacuumed the rug before the sofa, I snuck out, stealth like.

I pull my reading glasses out from my desk drawer as I bite into my ham salad sandwich. My head is banging. Causes: too much sex, and absolutely no sleep. I slip them up my nose and twiddle with my pen, listlessly going through my emails. I have four. One from Mary, wanting me to copy edit Jen’s article on wedding wear.
Great, weddings
. Maybe she’s given me this task on purpose, thinking I’ll enjoy it? I save the attachment in my docs and go back to my inbox. There are two emails advertising exotic holidays, which belong in the trash, and one from Adrien. I click on it to open.

From: Adrien Knight PLC

To: Elizabeth Lovell

Time: 11.54am

Subject: Wedding

Before I read any more, I remove my glasses and rub my eyes. Is it like national wedding week or something? God, I’m so frigging drained. I can’t think about fine details today. I put my glasses back on and read.

Dear Elizabeth

                         I am booking the venue, flights, and accommodation for all our guests. I have attached several information guides on suitable hotels we can use for everything, and I have reserved each one for June 28
th
. The first I have visited several times and has a wonderful service. So if you could browse through and get back to me ASAP, with the number of guest on your side, and preferred venue.

Regards Adrien

I’ve already gone through all this with Sara. She asked me for numbers last week. The only people I want there are my Mum, Geoff, Aunt Carol, Uncle Jim, Cate and Nathan. Quiet and personal, especially as I don’t know how many vampires will be attending. I was told not to worry about a thing because everything is being organised, which was fine by me. But now I’m in a tizzy over this. It’s only ten days away and only now he is ready to book the venue. Has Sara lost her touch? She usually plans things down to the last detail. This should have been done already.

I check out the first hotel, Fonab Castle Hotel. Okay, it’s a castle, blah-blah-blah. It looks more than suitable for a wedding. I open the second file but my instincts close it and have me studying Fonab Castle once more. My mind is made, and I want it done without having to think any harder about it. I begin to tap on the keys.

From: Liz

To: Adrien

Time: 13.05

Subject: Wedding Stuff

Adrien, I have already provided my guest list to Sara. She has all the information needed. Is there a problem? I thought with there only being a week left, this would have been done already.

PS: The first hotel is fine.

Liz x

I send and flop back into my swivel chair, then click on Jen’s wedding article. Mother of the bride. It reads fine, but maybe I should read it again later with a clear head.

My email flashes. I cross the article and open.

To: Elizabeth Lovell

From: Adrien Knight PLC

Time: 13.33

Subject: Guests

Miss Lovell

                  Do I detect a tone of antagonism in your reply? I told you that you needed to sleep. I have already consulted Sara, but I wanted to be sure. I shall book the Fonab and arrange flights immediately.

No arguments, you are going to dine with me tonight, then you are going to sleep.

Regards Adrien.

I slump back, wavering side to side in my chair. He’s right, like always. All the excitement over the last forty eight hours has now caught up with me, and I could literally fall asleep on my desk. I watch as Michael, our photographer, passes by me and a great hollow yawn emerges from my mouth. I hang my heavy head, tempted to have a secret power nap on my desk.

“Liz.” Mary sticks her head out from her office and gestures me in. “Can we talk.” She disappears back inside.

I sluggishly push myself up, and trudge my way toward her door.

She’s sitting at her desk, taking a bite out of a blueberry muffin, dropping crumbs all over stacks of paperwork and files.

“Sit down,” she says with her mouthful.

I perch my butt on the faux leather chair, as she brushes the crumbs off her hands. Her desk is so untidy. I hate my workstation cluttered. The sight of hers is making me want to straighten out her files, and go hunt down some anti-bacterial spray or something.

“Right.” She wipes the side of her mouth. “I know I said I wouldn’t do this; it’s completely absurd I’m even considering it.” I don’t like the look on her face. It’s cogent and formal. “But the big man upstairs has had intel that one of his employees is to be married next week. And with it being wedding season, well.”