“It’s pretty,” he says with a long exhale.
The red isn’t too dissimilar to the dress I wore that night. There’s no lace or tulle. This dress is sleeker with its sumptuous velvet and gold crystal-embellished ropes that will hold it in place across my shoulder blades. The straight neckline and long sleeves give to a backless, deep plunge that will curve at the small of my back.
It’s plain and simple really. But the ruched bustle at the back gives the pencil cut some movement and elegance.
Turning to face away from Christopher, I slip the robe off. His scorching breaths trail down my back as he crouches behind me and helps me step into the dress. I shiver as they slowly work their way back up with the soft, cool fabric.
My nipples bead at the sensation. Goose bumps cover me from top to toe as he carefully clips the chain across my shoulder blades, securing the dress.
“Fuck me, precious girl,” he sings softly, running his nose up the curve of my neck as he straightens. Our eyes meet in the mirror before he says, “I don’t want to share you with anyone, let alone the world.”
Chin resting on my head, his hands squeeze down the curve of my waist to my hips, rounding to the small of my back as he grinds his solid dick into me.
I swear, I’m so wet that my thighs feel slick when I rub them together.
His hand traces up my front, flattening on my belly before rising to the curve of my bust. It moulds to my body like heated steel as it continues up to my jaw.
“You need to stop looking at me like that.” He groans, pulling my bottom lip from between my teeth.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m the big bad wolf and you want me to eat you all up.”
“I don’t want to be eaten by a wolf.” I lean back onto him, squirming on his groin. “I want to be devoured by a king.”
Brusquely, he walks me over to the mirror. My hands slap to the cool surface as my hips hit the edge of the vanity.
Christopher’s raspy breaths bathe my nape, his chest heaving over my back as my breasts ache. My nipples burn with the weight of gravity and the give of the supple fabric.
“You want me to devour you?” Christopher’s deep growl vibrates through me as his hand closes around my throat. The squeeze of it over my jugular sends my pulse into overdrive, and my head hazes. I imagine this is what an astronaut feels like when they break the thermosphere.
I’m breathless, dizzy, and exhilarated all at once. My body is vibrating, aching, and tensing with all the want, need, and heat buzzing through me.
“It’s what I asked for.”
The hand at my hip lowers, the friction of his body over mine excruciating. I want more. I want to revel in it.
Gripping the fabric at the middle of my thigh, he pulls the moulded skirt up, over the curve of my hips. With my skin bared, he claws and pinches at the slippery flesh of my thighs.
The bite makes my feet press onto my tiptoes. But nothing undoes me like the feel of him rubbing my pussy over my thong. Pulling my underwear to the side, he parts my lips with a gravelly groan.
My face heats and flushes with the assault of pleasure. Holy shit.
As he presses two fingers inside me, his thumb spreading my wetness to my clit, his other hand tightens on my throat for a moment, before he slaps it over mine on the mirror.
Hard cock grinding into the small of my back, he pumps his fingers in time with the circling of his groin.
“Christopher…”
“I’ll devour you. I’ll consume every inch of you. Every cell. Until there’s nothing left.” His guttural promise is punctuated by the thrust of his fingers.
“Fuck,” I cry out as he pulls out slightly and adds another finger. “Yes.”
God, I’m shaking as fire unfurls in the pit of my belly, so deep inside me that it feels like I’m being burnished from the inside out by his touch.
“I’m not a greedy eater. I like to take my time…to savour.” He pumps twice more before slipping his fingers out of my clenching cunt. I was so ready. So close. “You’re worth savouring.” Bringing his glistening fingers to my lips, he spreads my arousal over my ruby-tinged skin. “Every fucking bit of you,” he says, spinning me to face him.
I’m still discombobulated as he licks across my lips with a dragged-out moan of pure pleasure and satisfaction.
“So you’ll wait until the evening is through, and I’ll fuck you through the night.” His whisky eyes are dark with his dilated pupils swallowing up the light. “I’ll fuck you until you beg me to stop, and even then, I might fuck you through your pleas and your screams. Isn’t that what you want?”
I’m terrified and excited by the wanton fire in his promise. My body curves into his as he cups my face hard. Hands grabbing on to his wrists, I nod as he bites my lips, sucking and licking until I’m sure he’s made a mess of my make-up. His tongue presses into my mouth, and not only can I smell myself on my lips, but I can taste my need on his tongue.
Holy fuck, I swear he could make me come with the way he’s plundering my mouth. Moans and groans steal my breaths and ability hold myself up.
Christopher pulls away without warning. His body heaves like mine as we stare at one another.
Oddly, there isn’t a single mark on his lips. Their redness is all natural. They’re swollen a deep raspberry from our kiss. I love the way his face is flushed. His nostrils flare with the clench of his jaw. He looks on the verge of complete obliteration.
“We need to go.”
Sitting me on the edge of the vanity, he grabs the shoes set to the side with the gold, pearl, and diamond cuffs and matching earrings, the only jewellery that will accompany my wedding bands. All are meant to draw the eyes to my hands with a squeeze of his arm or a tuck of my hair.
Every little thing is calculated.
No necklace to detract from them. The red velvet clutch is as plain as the dress. Again, the perfect backdrop to the rings.
Crouching in front of me, Christopher slips the gold Tom Ford stilettos on my feet. Grabbing the cuffs, he clasps them around my wrists in turn.
Handing me the earrings, he takes a step back. There’s a trepid look on his face as he reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“I had something made for you a while back.” A small red box rests in his hand, a neat bow sitting on top in Cartier-branded ribbon. Taking my left hand, he thumbs my rings. “I hope you like it.”
“You didn’t have to…I mean…I…” I don’t know what to say because the look on his face indicates that whatever in that box is precious beyond its material worth.
“I never got to give it to you before.” Shaking his head, he turns my hand and places the box in my palm.
“Thank you.” I’m sure it’s the silliest thing to say. Those words don’t seem to be the right ones even though I have no idea what’s inside.
I have this feeling, however, and it makes my hands tremble as I go about opening his present.
“I was going to save it for Christmas. With everything that’s happened, I didn’t want to put it on you, but today feels like the right time.”
He comes closer as I discard the top of the gift box and ribbon on the vanity, beside me. A leather box sits inside, and as I open it, he stiffens with a deep inhale.
I hold his gaze as the top flips open.
“Don’t be nervous.” I press a light kiss to his lips. “I’m going to love it, as I’ve loved everything you’ve ever given me.” Most of all him. I love him. I love that he’s given me himself so fully. Everything else is a bonus.
Glancing down at the box, I pause. Silence stills me. My heart races. My mouth dries. Tears fill my eyes.
I’m shaking, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
“I’m sorry,” he says quickly as he steps back again.
Wide, terrified eyes greet me as I look up at him.
“It’s beautiful.” Taking the eternity ring out of the box, I hold it between us.
There’s a lone yellow stone
in the midst of the all the translucent diamonds. It was the colour I’d chosen over pink, because I hate pink even though Christopher was all for it when it came to our daughter.
“No pink, huh?” I try to lighten the atmosphere with my chuckle.
“No pink.”
The gold trellis-like band wraps around the stones in never-ending infinity swoops and swirls. Much like my wedding band, it’s not over-the-top or ostentatious. But it’s the most gorgeous thing he’s given me. And the fact that he was so nervous of giving it to me makes me the luckiest person in the world, because beyond love, care, and worship…Christopher respects me enough to be aware of my feelings.
“Are you going to put it on me?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Yes, I do,” I whisper as he draws closer.
Taking the ring from me, he holds on to my hand. Using his free hand, he threads the eternity ring onto his pinkie before he slips off my engagement ring, slotting it between his lips as he takes the eternity ring and threads it onto my finger, sitting it over my wedding band. They’re noticeably different, but they look stunning beside each other. The wedding band is marginally thinner with smaller diamonds. It’s plainer in design, but together they’re luminous.
Slipping the engagement ring back on, he smiles, faint lines bracketing either side of his mouth. They’re his happy lines. He only gets them when he really smiles, and it makes me beyond joyful to see them.
Kissing my hand, he threads his fingers through mine before picking me off the counter. I wrap my arms around his neck, and as he puts me down, I whisper, “I still want you to devour me.”
There’s no laughter on his part; in fact, his narrowed stare bores into mine with far more intensity than any person should ever have thrust on them. My insides scorch and with a shudder my skin prickles with awareness and pull. A pull I can feel tug deep between us.
“Move before you lose the ability to walk. Wouldn’t want to give the rags more juice to soak up.”
There’s something about the way he says that, that makes every sordid part of me clench. And as he tugs me along, I almost trip over myself with how thin my heels are. The fishtail of my dress counts every step down to the hall. Everyone is there, waiting for us, with the exception of Francis and Penny.
They’re all holding champagne flutes, and the bubbles are still popping, which indicates they’re fresh.
“You’re just in time for the toast!” Freddie sings. I’m not quite sure if he’s happy or if he’s being a brat. With him it’s hard to tell, especially lately with all the shit with Lucy being an open subject.
“What’re we toasting?” Christopher takes the glasses Casper hands him. “Where’s Fleur?”
As he hands me one, Casper says, “Fleur’s still sick.”
“She needs to go back to the doctor.” He’s still pissed that Casper didn’t say anything about him and Fleur, but from what he has told me and what I’ve seen in the last week since it came to light, they’re more fuck buddies than anything else.
Although I can’t see her doing much fucking right now, which means they’re more friends than anything else.
I’m okay with that. Not that I wasn’t okay with him seeing her. It was a bit surprising that’s all. Casper’s not the kind to shit where he eats.
“She has.” The retort is short, even for Casper. I can tell that it annoys Christopher too.
“Okay, so…” Freddie sings above everyone. “Congratulations to you two.” He raises his glass at Leo and Cassie.
It’s only then I notice the ring on her finger. It’s beautiful and unique with its oval diamond and three smaller marquise-cut stones on either side like a buttercup cut down the middle or two crowns butting the centrepiece.
It’s very fitting, and I bet he took great pride and care in designing it.
“When you said tonight, I assumed you meant later. During the event or after…” Christopher says, pulling Cassie in for a hug. “Congratulations, Princess.”
“I said tonight. It’s tonight.” Leo pulls her gently back to him. “Besides, you know I don’t do any of that public shit.”
“Where’s Dad?” Christopher asks Cassie, and whilst they’re talking, I take advantage to give Leo my own congratulations.
When I pause in front of him, he looks at me expectantly. Before he can say anything that will make me want to throttle him, I hug him tight.
“Congratulations,” I whisper, squeezing him tighter. “Kit would’ve been so happy for you. He would’ve loved Cassie, and what you have with her.”
His audible swallow is the only sign that he’s an emotional wreck. It hurts that I can feel the space he’s put between us, and I don’t have it in me to keep it for the sake of pride.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about everything,” I tell him low enough that only he can hear. Casper would have a fucking field day with my apology.
Pulling back, Leo pins me with his gaze. “I want you to be sorry you went behind my back. That you betrayed my trust. I want you to be sorry for what you did, not what you didn’t say.”
I can’t say it. I’m not sorry.
“Leo…”
“Actions speak louder than words, Arabella. So be sorry for what you did. Don’t say you’re sorry for what you didn’t say.”
Silence falls between us. I step back.
“Well, shall we go?” Penny’s voice sounds from the end of the hallway. Wayne follows her. They both look flustered, irritation obvious on their faces.
“I thought Dad was with you?” Christopher asks her.
“Yes, he’s following behind.” Gesturing to the corridor that goes down to my father’s office, she adds, “Unfortunately.”
“Give it a rest, Penelope,” Francis groans, fed up.
“You need to rest, Francis. You’re not listening to the doctors. You can barely move for God’s sake!”
“I’m fine.”
“You are not fine!” She’s right—his normally golden skin is pale. Although the bandages on his hands have come off the last couple of days, there are still some angry red burns on them. He’s covered them with large skin-coloured plasters, but his hands still look tender and swollen.
“This discussion is over. If you’re not happy, you can stay. Stay or go, that’s your only concern.”
Wayne clears his throat. Ryan stands beside him from behind Francis.
“No limos today. We have a convoy—stick to it. Please. Ryan is taking you two.” He points to me and Christopher before looking over at Leo and Cassie. “You’re coming with me. Freddie you’re with me too; Casper, you’re with Ryan.”
“No funny business. Any trouble and we’re out. I have the place crawling with security, but it doesn’t mean we’re clear.” Francis looks between each one of us. “You go nowhere without one of us.” Glancing between me, Cassie, and Penny, he makes sure he’s heard before leading us out of the door to the Ranges waiting for us.
Chapter 39
Christopher
The hotel is manic. Ryan stops right behind Mum and Dad’s Range. He’s got one of his security guys driving them for the night. Lucian is standing to the side talking to another guy I recognise from Dad’s preferred team. Another of Casper’s Army buddies.
After he came back, he made it his mission to make sure the men he served beside were given solid ground to stand on. I think it’s why Dad admires him so much. It’s not just about his loyalty; he’s a true hero.
“Don’t stress, beautiful.” Kissing Arabella’s temple, I lace my fingers through hers. She’s trembling. I feel panic and fear seep from her pores.
“I don’t want to do this, Christopher,” she murmurs, grasping my arm tightly with her other hand.
Pointing to the red carpet outside, I make sure she sees all the security lined up along the short, lined path to the art deco doors of one of London’s finest hotels. Claridge’s is lit up with large spruces twinkling above the doors, stars shining between each tree and garlands s
ashaying the cover over the doors.
It feels Christmassy and magical, and it makes me smile because I know how much Arabella loves the holidays.
“You see how many guys are out there?”
“I know, but…I…”
“There’s more than you think. Francis has people watching from the surrounding buildings. The entire area surrounding us is being monitored. The hotel has been swept through. We’ve taken care of everything.” Casper looks back at us before he steps out of the car. Fastening his jacket buttons, he sweeps the scene with a calm assessing gaze.
Ryan does the same as Casper rounds the back of our vehicle. Walking straight onto the red carpet behind Mum and Dad, he and Freddie meet in the middle of all the flashes. Freddie says something, and they both laugh—I’m not sure if they’re making a show for the sake of the cameras or whether they’re actually laughing. As soon as one of the newer security guys jumps in the driver’s seat, Ryan opens my door.
The noise is crazy. Loud voices, shutters, and flashes, music and the general bustle of the city. It’s a disconcerting whirlwind, and as I step out, I help Arabella down too. Her hand squeezes mine as we make our way down the carpet-lined path. The hand holding her clutch rests on the crook of my elbow.
“So…about the house…” I say, trying to make conversation to relax her. It’s normally her that has to walk me through these things.
“What about it?” Looking up at me with a wide stare, she licks her lips.
She’s fucking stunning. My heart does all sorts of crazy shit that makes me take a moment to get myself together before I carry on guiding her to the hotel entrance.
“The builders are almost done, but the decorators won’t be able to finish by Christmas.”
Chuckling, she says, “I know I said that’s what I’d love, but I knew it was going to be impossible.”
“I tried to push them harder, you know, offered them more money.”
“You keep doing all these things for me,” she breathes, glancing down at her ring hand and tightening her grip on mine with her other. “You don’t have to. You’re enough. You’re more than enough, Mr. Sinclair.”
Scorch (Virtues & Lies Book 2) Page 33