The Prize

by Vanessa Fewings

  “Come on.” He took my hand and pulled me down the stairs and along the hallway, retracing the steps Coops had taken. “In here.”

  We burst into the living room. He let go and went inside a cupboard. He pointed to the large painting wrapped in white. “This is what you saw?”

  “What is it?” My throat was sore from tension.

  He rolled his eyes. “Zara.” He lifted it and carried it over to the far end of the room and rested it upright against the table. “My wedding present to you.” He rested his fisted palms on his hips. “I wasn’t expecting to give it to you like this. I had this day planned out. Me dressed as your groom and you in your wedding dress while we sipped champagne as husband and wife. Still, you and I will never follow the rules or live by tradition to such an extent that it comes before our feelings.”

  Staring at the wrapping paper, my thoughts raced with what was beneath the white luxury wrapping.

  “Do you want to do the honors?” He gestured to it.

  Wary still, I shook my head.

  “Allow me, then.” He stepped toward it and yanked at a corner and pulled. “Coops collected it from the framer. He was meant to get it into the house without you seeing it. This was meant to be a surprise.” Ripping farther he revealed a canvas and the faint image of a woman’s red gown. I recognized those strappy black shoes as the paper tore away. This was no Benjamin West; those colors and tones weren’t his style, though I did recognize the masterful strokes of the sfumato technique—

  The painting was of me wearing a red gown and red-and-golden bodice that hugged my curves. Though I’d never posed for this, I had been photographed in this very pose with my auburn locks tumbling over naked shoulders, and my smile was the same one I’d held for Tobias when he’d snapped this shot at a gala at The Wilder two months ago.

  “Recognize his work?” Tobias beamed at me.

  “Brother Bay?”

  “It took me a lot to persuade him to paint from a photo but I twisted his arm in the end.” His gaze swept over the canvas. “You are sublime, Zara.”

  My voice was still shaky. “This was why you didn’t want me in New York?”

  He came toward me and gently eased my hand from my face. “Feel better?”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “That’s because it’s you.”

  I waved that off as I held back tears. “No, I meant it’s an incredible gift. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Remind me to thank Coops for his suspicious behavior that sent you into a spin.”

  “It was my fault. I’m sorry, I—”

  “Doubted me.” He pulled me into a hug and squeezed me into him. “I have a lifetime of proving my honesty to you. You’re about to marry the man who was... I deserve your doubt. Don’t be hard on yourself.”

  I reached for his face and read forgiveness in his eyes.

  “Still, I’m going to need to punish you.” He picked me up and carried me out of there and up the stairs fast and all the way to our bedroom, where he flung me onto the bed.

  He pulled off his towel in the style of a matador as though trying to break the tension, and he made me laugh as he climbed onto the end of the bed like a prowling panther. He leaned low to kiss the inside of my ankle and trailed kisses up toward my inner thigh, teasing, kissing and licking close to my sex but not there yet and making me writhe for his touch.

  He grazed his lips over mine and then pulled back and stared into my eyes, seemingly reading something, his expression changing, his frown deepening.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I know what you need. I always did and I always will.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Let’s play,” he cooed close to my ear.

  Pushing myself up onto my elbows, I watched his well-toned naked suntanned body saunter across the room, his skin shimmering from the light streaming in from the late afternoon sun. He slid open a drawer and removed red silk ties and gave them a tug to test their strength. He returned to my side, where he dipped the mattress as his knee pressed in. Reaching up for my wrists and holding them tight, he brought them above my head, and several knots later he’d tied me to the bedpost. Those same ribbons were used to secure my feet, only he spread them wide, leaving me exposed and vulnerable. Tobias brought another one of the red silk ties and lifted my head to wrap it around, pulling it around my mouth and gagging me.

  Looming over me, he admired his handiwork. “You’re my addiction, Zara. Erotic and exquisite and everything a man desires. There is one trait, though, that we need to work on. And that is trusting me implicitly.”

  Raising my head off the pillow I tried to read him and made an indecipherable moan.

  He raised a finger to silence me. “Hold that thought.”

  My body was chilled from the breeze finding its way in through the door that Tobias was exiting.

  “Wait for me.” He flashed a smile. “Not that you have any choice.”

  What the hell?

  Pulling the cords, I squirmed to escape my bindings, and when that didn’t work I gave a yank, trying to pull up my legs but it was no use. They were secured too tightly and I strained against the binds frantically, my heart thundering, my panic rising.

  Tobias reappeared and his expression was calm as he carried himself with that steely pride I’d seen on him that first day we met. “Zara.”

  I mumbled against this gag.

  “Good point.” He reached for the discarded throw over a high-backed chair and pulled it up to cover me. “I know your body better than you know it yourself.” His voice was low and seductive. “Every curve, every angle, every taste. I’ve journeyed over you a thousand times and mapped every inch and when you fail to give yourself to me completely, I know.”

  Swallowing nervously, I gave my wrist another pull.

  He whisked out his cell phone and pressed a number.

  I moaned my fear.

  Tobias pressed his index fingertip to his mouth to silence me. “Yes, Adley, it’s me again. Just checking in on that issue you’re having at the palace.” Tobias frowned as he listened. “Oh, I see. That is interesting.”

  My body trembled and my eyes widened as I tried to comprehend what he was doing and how crazy I’d been to let him tie me up. Tobias strolled closer and brushed away the blanket covering my foot and caressed it tenderly, pinching my toes and running a finger up my sole to cause a horrible tickle, only I couldn’t jerk away and his torment of my foot was maddening.

  He waggled his eyebrows, proving he was enjoying doing this to me. Tobias broke away and slid his thumb over his screen.

  Adley’s voice rose from the phone. “We can’t believe it, either,” he said. “Turns out the queen personally gifted the painting of Queen Charlotte to her grandson and forgot to report it. They literally stuffed it into the back of their Land Rover and drove off with it to Kensington Palace.”

  “The Benjamin West has been accounted for?” Tobias clarified and widened his eyes at me to make his point.

  “Yes, how did you hear about it going missing?” asked Adley.

  “A rumor found its way to us. We’re glad it turned up. Have a lovely day. Oh, and Adley, if you ever need any help with a case don’t hesitate to reach out to me. I may even be inclined to lend you Leighton. You know what a resource she is.” Tobias told Adley goodbye and hung up. “Someone has been very naughty. Notice I’m looking at you, Leighton.”

  My head crashed onto the pillow and I squeezed my eyes shut in embarrassment.

  “As I told you earlier.” He pulled off the blanket. “I’m going to have to chastise you.” His mouth closed over my big toe and sucked. “This is what I have in mind. You’re not allowed to come until I say. Sound fair?”

  I gave a reluctant nod.

  He slipped into a grin. “You weren’t relaxed. This is our day. Ours—you
rs and mine—and I want it to be everything you dreamed of.” He reached over and pulled down the gag.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Accepted.” He gave a roguish smile.

  It was all okay and I swooned as uncertainty left me.

  Sighing contentedly as his hand cupped my sex, I raised my head to watch the way his fingers trailed over me and then slowly circled my clit. He dipped his fingers into my wetness to use it to lubricate me further and then played with that little bud tingling beneath his touch.

  “You like this?” he asked huskily.

  “Oh, yes,” I moaned.

  He rose off the bed. “No more sex until we’re married.”

  “What!”

  He turned and came at me fast. “I can’t even follow my own rules anymore. You’ve destroyed my willpower completely.”

  My back arched when he leaned low between my thighs and plunged his tongue inside me, fucking wildly in the most delicious way and then lapping and circling my folds until he had me shuddering violently through a blinding orgasm as his tongue lavished me with attention. He rose and came to rest over me, and he controlled his hardness, dipping the tip by sliding his cock along my sex. The need for him was too great and I cried out for him.

  He responded, plunging inside me deep and sure, rising on his elbows to peer down at me and hold my gaze as though trying to read me, seemingly needing to see I believed him, believed all of it and, most important, see there was no doubt left in me that he’d given up being Icon.

  Somehow, someway I’d tamed this amazing man.

  A jolt of pleasure surged through me as his pelvis brushed over my clit, and I wrapped my fingers around the headboard, gripped it with white knuckles for traction, and shuddered against the pleasure surging through me. I wanted to throw my legs around him and cross my heels to capture him against me but they were still bound by those silk ties. If he broke away now I’d die from this need, yearning with every cell for this connection that I never wanted to end. My soul soared with all the emotions that were dissipating after they’d ravaged me day after day since knowing him.

  His mouth was on mine, hungry and unforgiving, his tongue owning every corner as he savagely kissed. And with the same force I kissed him back, nipping at his lower lip, and biting down on the flesh of his right shoulder when the pleasure became overwhelming and I could no longer hold back, no matter my promise to control my release. “Please,” I begged.

  “Not yet,” he ordered, lowering his head to catch a nipple between his lips and dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin, sending ripples of bliss through it. That sensation tugged at my clit to torture me more.

  “Oh, God,” I yelled. “I can’t.”

  “You can and you will.” His voice was demanding as he plunged into me with powerful thrusts that went deeper than he’d ever gone, his hips working me like a powerful piston, his hard chest striking mine. His mastery was gentle and then savage as he collided his heat-soaked body against me.

  His firm chest pressed me into the mattress and then he pulled back and stilled, holding my gaze. “I’m giving you my oath now, Zara. My vow to you is my loyalty and my love, and I will spend every day making you happy.”

  “I love you,” I managed through this rising orgasm, my channel owning him fiercely and pulsing around his full length until ripples of pleasure snatched the air from me and I gasped my next breaths until he spoke the words that would save me—

  “Come together, Zara.”

  I screamed, convulsing with his name on my tongue, caught in the quake of this climax, finally allowing myself to surrender, giving myself over and opening like a flower in full bloom, no holding back, no selfish desire to keep anything for myself. Instead, I let him in entirely, trembling through the devastating sensations surging like a tsunami to sweep me away without the chance of ever going back and drowning in the pleasure of him as we merged as one.

  We collapsed in each other’s arms and I slipped into nothing but peace.

  Afterward, we bathed in his enormous marble bath with bubbles and soapsuds pouring over the side in abundance and soaking the floor as we neared the time we’d soon have to separate, though briefly, to prepare for the rest of our lives.

  Within an hour, I had been pampered and prepared with my makeup flawless and my hair a mass of spiraling waves over my shoulder, and as I stared at myself in the bedroom mirror I saw someone new. I’d never felt more right about anything and becoming Mrs. Wilder filled me with joy. Soon, I’d be joining Tobias on the beach of this sanctuary that had become our home, and with these daisies in my hair and happily barefoot, I would say my vows and become his wife. There’d be no guests today, it would be just us, promising to love and to cherish.

  Lifting my bouquet off the side table, I brought them to my nose and breathed in the sweet scent of red roses filling the air with their perfume and reminding me of the flowers Tobias had first given me. Nostalgia carried on the breeze and found me, and though my mum wasn’t here to cheer me on or my father to give me away, I was content with the thought they were with me in spirit nonetheless.

  Making my way down and out of the house, I drew the ocean breeze into my lungs and spoke a quiet prayer, thanking God for delivering me.

  From the end of the garden, I savored the sea view stretching out in a glorious deep blue with the promise of a sunset on the horizon. I turned my gaze, wanting to remember this moment forever, wanting it fused onto my consciousness. I inhaled a sharp breath at the way the lush roses twisted around the wedding arch and there standing beneath it was Tobias, wearing a white shirt and beige trousers and he was barefoot too.

  With the soft sand melting beneath my feet I headed toward him, greeted by his wide grin and eyes brimming with elation as he admired my dress from afar.

  “You look stunning, Zara,” he called over and padded toward me.

  I was vaguely aware of the officiant standing a little way back and past her, the woman sitting not that far away holding a paintbrush with an easel before her, ready to capture our service in a painting. The dreamy idea, all Tobias’s, of us being immortalized in watercolors.

  He closed the gap between us, reached out for my hand and kissed my wrist, and then wrapped his arm around my waist and dipped me. “Tell me you want me,” he purred into my ear.

  As my hair tumbled beneath me I felt safer than I ever had. “I want you.” I whispered it, feeling like a beloved damsel in his strong arms.

  “Tell me I make you happy.”

  “You make me happy.”

  “Tell me you are mine forever.”

  “Yours forever.”

  “I love you, Zara.” He let out a long sigh and nuzzled into my neck and lifted me up before him. “Let’s go have our happy-ever-after.”

  “I love you, Tobias.” I followed him toward the scent of roses.

  He beamed back as he reached the shade of the trellis.

  My heart fluttered as I walked beneath the arch of flowers and I turned toward him—my love, my future, the man who made me giddy with happiness.

  In the depths of my soul I had discovered within me an invisible strength, and as I spoke my first sacred vow to him, my heart soared as this truth became my reality—love is the greatest art of all.

  * * * * *

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  ISBN: 9781489252302

  TITLE: THE PRIZE

  First Australian Publication 2018

  Copyright © 2018 Vanessa Fewings

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-excl
usive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises (Australia) Pty Ltd, Level 13, 201 Elizabeth Street, Sydney, N.S.W., Australia 2000.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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