Page 87 of Rook of Ruin
“Excuse me?” She turns and curtsies, her doe eyes looking at me in awe. “May I please have those?” She hands me the book and the paper.
I sigh in excitement—this is what it feels like to leave home. I do a quick walk through of my bedroom, bathroom, and sitting room.
“There you are.” The deep Bethalian voice has me turning, and I rush to Simon. He holds me in his arms, kisses the top of my head, and I sigh into him.
I turn and look at the room that holds so many memories. Simon lets me drift off into those memories, and when I’m ready, I take his hand, then reach up and push the rogue curl off his forehead. “I know we have to leave soon, but is there any chance we could see Ralin before we go?”
He smiles. “That is exactly where we are going next.”
We laugh all the way to Ralin’s room, but my face falls when we are denied entry since she started to labor. I’m happy for her but disappointed that I can’t see her or meet the new family member.
Simon places his arm over my shoulder. “I think now would be a good time for a surprise,” he says softly.
He leads me down the halls and back to the royal suite’s sitting room, where Finn stands next to a large painting of Artho, Sal, and Elliot. Their names are carved into the wooden frame.
I smile. “This is beautiful. Thank you.”
Simon looks down at me, “You’re welcome. I would like for you to pick a place in our home, wherever you would like, and I will hang it for you.” I clasp his hand, and Finn steps forward.
“Princess Caddel, it was a pleasure to know you. I will be staying behind with your blessing.” Finn kneels before me. “You will always have my . . . loyalty.”
Sadness creeps up my chest, and I gently lay my hand on his shoulder. “Of course. As you have mine, Finn.”
He stands with a wink.
“Finn.” Simon nods to dismiss him and sweeps me off my feet.
Back in our room, the bed has new linens, and the chaise was removed and replaced with a regular sofa. We made love in the shower and collapsed into each other’s arms on the bed.
Simon kisses the hand I have laid out on his chest. “O, we need to go.”
“I want just one more minute like this.” I kiss his cheek.
Simon sighs. “One minute. Wife, you will be the death of me.” His knuckle brings my chin up, and he kisses me. I easily open up for him and moan, and he slides his hands between my thighs.Wet. He growls. “O, I don’t think—fuck it.” Simon moves overtop of me and slides into me, not allowing any time to adjust to his long, thick length. He moves his body with sheer power and expertly hits my clit with each thrust.
“Simon!” I practically scream as I grip his back. We pant together as he pushes into me, hard and fast into pure bliss. This isn’t soft and gentle; this is pure, driven need and lust. This is pent-up desire that we both need to unleash. Simon throws his head back as he releases into me, and I moan out in pure satisfied joy.
He collapses on top of me. “You minx,” he jokes while kissing my nose, letting me know he is teasing. “I’m definitely going to have a difficult time doing anything other than being inside you.” The words are muffled as he nuzzles my neck.
“It’s not so bad being inside me though, is it?” My stomach growls, and I realize I haven’t had anything to eat.
“It’s so great that all I want to do is be inside you.” He kisses my nose again. “You haven’t eaten anything yet, have you?”
I give him a flirtatious smile. “I would like to eatsomething.”
“Hells, woman.” A wicked grin comes across his face. “Later,” he says, and I actually pout. “If you eat some food, I’ll satisfy you in the carriage all the way to Bethal.”
I crook my eyebrow. “All the way?”
“All the way.” He crosses his heart.
“It better be all the fucking way,” I whine, and he chuckles.
A knock at our bedroom door has Simon grabbing a towel we flung onto the floor and wrapping it around his waist. He mumbles something and takes a pile of clothes from whoever is at the door and makes his way back to me. “Food will be brought up soon.” A shy, almost nervous look crosses his face. “And I had these made for you.”
He produces black leathers with silver thread woven through. The leathers are clearly protective, and the chest plate is more like a Raven’s than a Rook’s, with built-in sheaths. Sleek, and I think even the Ravens would be jealous.
I beam at him. “Simon, these are beautiful. Thank you.” I give him a peck on the cheek. “What is the silver running through?”
