The rain's light tapping at the windows had stopped by the time I woke the next morning, replaced by chirping birds and bright sunlight streaming into the room. In the hearth, the fire had burned down to ashes. I lay there, warm and comfortable in Chevalier’s arms, listening to his slow, steady breathing. He’d probably sleep a while longer, which meant I could take my time cleaning up the dirty dishes on the coffee table and in the kitchen, tidy up the bathroom, and then start breakfast.
Just a few more minutes, I thought.
I needed to plan how I’d surprise him with that red negligee, anyway, although the mere thought of that slinky silk garment brought a wave of embarrassment and a rush of heat to my face. Just seeing me wearing it would be surprising enough for him, wouldn’t it? But after my first tentative foray into teasing him yesterday, I wanted to go a little further this time. Maybe I could put it on before he got up, so when he walked into the kitchen for breakfast, he’d find me wearing it? He liked the chase, though. Maybe it would be better if I strung him along for a while, acting normally and waiting to spring it on him at the right moment.
Normally. What was normal behavior for me now? Every day of this honeymoon had been a new adventure into pleasures I’d never imagined before.
But Chevalier had agreed to let me plan everything today. Maybe I could talk him into reading for a while, and then, when I left to start lunch or dinner…I could make beignets instead.
A shiver ran down my spine. That was it. Ever since the day he’d teased me with a beignet when I was still his maid, just mentioning the pastry was enough to put a mischievous sparkle in his crystal blue eyes. Until now, I’d only made them on baking nights, so his brothers had always been around to keep him in line. But now…
The embarrassment vanished amidst a flurry of excited butterflies.
Now too eager to stay still, I tried to ease myself from his arms, but they immediately tightened and pulled me closer. He made a soft sound, something between a sigh and a groan, and nuzzled into my hair. I held my breath for a moment, unsure if he was still asleep, before I tried leaving again.
“Stop moving,” he mumbled.
Well, if those were his first words, he was too tired to make love. Maybe talking him into spending a day relaxing and reading would be easier than I thought.
“I’m just going to tidy up a bit and start breakfast,” I told him.
He sighed again, a burst of hot hair across my scalp. “Servants will clean after we leave.”
I rolled over to face him. His sleepy blue eyes were open and on me, a soft smile gracing his lips. I smiled, too, and brushed his messy blonde bangs back from his face to give me a better view. “You don’t like an untidy room any more than I do. Just go back to sleep and let me take care of it, okay?”
He made that sound again, a sigh and a groan blended together, and traced a light finger across my cheek. “Am I allowed to know your plans for today?”
“No,” I said teasingly. “All you need to know is that today is a day for relaxing.”
I gave him a quick kiss and slipped free from his embrace. His hand caught mine as I stood, a light hold, easily broken and hard to release. I gave it a squeeze and let it go, promising myself it would be worth it later.
The morning passed uneventfully. I hid the red negligee in the bread box, and Chevalier slept in, as I'd expected. After he awoke, he followed me around until midafternoon, when he finally retired to the sofa with a book at my suggestion. I sat down to read, too, knowing the next part was the trickiest. He would notice me leaving the room no matter what I did, so I read for a while, and then I got up, changed the sheets, and left, acting as casually as possible, hoping he would assume I was about to make dinner. He didn't follow me.
My heart was already racing when I pulled the negligee from its hiding place and slipped into it. I was wearing a wedding gift from Theresa, I reminded myself as I started making the beignets, so I could have as much confidence as she did. Still, every minute ticking by increased my nervousness. The smell of baking pastries permeated the air. I laid the fresh beignets across the counter, dusting them with powdered sugar, and then I heard a sharp intake of breath from the doorway.
Perfect timing.
I glanced over my shoulder and smiled, as if there was nothing strange about me standing in the kitchen in a slinky red negligee that barely covered my rear. His crystal blue eyes were possibly wider than I’d ever seen them. I turned back to the beignets, trembling with anticipation, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.
He swore.
My heart stuttered. I’d never heard him swear before.
He stormed up behind me and spun me to face him, his lips on mine before I could speak, his hands lifting me by the waist and seating me on the counter as one kiss came after another in rapid succession, and I realized I may have bitten off more than I could chew.
“Chevalier—the beignets—” I managed to gasp amidst his onslaught.
He paused his kisses, his chest heaving for breath. “What did I do to deserve this?” he asked, picking up a beignet and holding it in front of my mouth. There was none of the light-hearted frivolity of that afternoon in his library. He wasn’t interested in teasing. His eyes blazed with open desire.
I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. The plan was to tease him, and it was too early to give in. So, I picked up another beignet and held it out to him. “My plan, remember?” I reminded him sweetly, tilting my head to the side and smiling at him.
The corner of his lip turned up into a smirk. “Is there more?”
I shrugged, rolling my shoulders with exaggerated movement. “Maybe. Try it.”
His eyes followed the motion to the low-cut neckline partially covering my chest, and then they snapped back up to my face. He pushed the beignets aside and placed his hands on the counter on either side of me, leaning forward to take a bite of the beignet in my fingers. I popped the rest in my mouth and studied my sugary fingers, slowly, deliberately licking the sugar away. He was nearly panting. I giggled and tilted my head to the side again.
“Do you want something, Chevalier?”
“You—” he ground out through gritted teeth.
“Oh, look, you missed a spot,” I interrupted, leaning forward and swiping a sugary finger across his lip. He seized my wrist and licked my finger clean.
I had forgotten I was ticklish there.
Suddenly, it was his game.
His tongue snaked across my fingers, rendering me completely at his mercy as I squirmed and writhed on the counter.
“Ch-chevalier—ha, ha—s-stop—he he—”
“This is what you get,” he teased, running his fingers lightly across a ticklish spot on my leg. I would have rolled off the counter if he hadn’t caught me. He threw me over his shoulder and carried me out of the kitchen, a hysterically laughing mess.
“No—wait—bedrooms are off limits!” I gasped out, pounding weakly on his back.
“Don’t you dare,” he growled. He threw me onto the bed in a poof of powdered sugar.
“We're making a mess!” I rolled onto my side and pulled at the fabric of my negligee to see the damage done to my rear. “Oh, look!”
I was laughing to the point of tears. There was a beignet stuck to my rear. Chevalier plucked it off and pushed my shoulder to put me on my back again, and then he pinned me beneath him, straddling my hips.
“Your turn,” he teased, holding the squished beignet in front of my lips.
I shook my head, covering my mouth with my hands. I was at serious risk of choking if I tried eating right now.
He was laughing, too, and he leaned in to whisper in my ear, “Should we wrap it in your negligee for later?”
He set the beignet on my shaking stomach and rolled the hem of my negligee up over it. I grabbed his shoulders and shoved as hard as I could, which wasn’t very hard at all, as I was still shaking with laughter. Fortunately, he knew what I wanted and rolled onto his back. I climbed on top of him and put my hands squarely in the center of his chest, but I was still laughing too hard to talk, so I hung my head for a moment, trying unsuccessfully to regain some sense of control.
“Sorry,” I wheezed, sitting back and covering my face with my hands. “I’ll get back to seducing you in a minute.”
“Whenever you’re ready,” he said smugly.
I peeked through my fingers at him. He lay there, his fingers interlaced behind his head, smirking up at me. I punched his shoulder and took a deep breath, pursing my lips together in an effort to stop the laughter bubbling out of me.
“It’s no use!” I finally said, leaning forward and resting my forehead on his chest. “Can you imagine if we did this at the palace?”
“It might raise a few questions, me carrying you down the hall with a beignet stuck to your rear.”
That sent me into another peal of giggles, intertwining in the air with his deep laughter as he and I lay tangled on the bed. This had not gone to plan, but I wouldn’t change a single thing about it.
“You can blame Theresa for this,” I finally said, only the occasional giggle slipping out this time as I sat upright and plucked at a strap of the negligee. “It was her wedding present to us.”
“She’s getting a raise.” He suddenly sat up, his blue eyes even with mine as I straddled his lap, and he grabbed the hem of my negligee. “And this needs to go.”
We had a late night and a huge mess to clean up in the morning. Neither of us cared.
And the next morning, when I was just praising myself silently for successfully slipping out of bed without waking him, my victory disappeared in another burst of laughter as soon as my feet hit the floor. I slammed my hand over my mouth, but it was too late.
“Mm,” he grumbled. “What is it?”
In answer, I picked up the red negligee, crumpled on the floor and covered in powdered sugar. A beignet fell out.
He propped himself up on his elbows and smirked at me. His eyes didn't hold the sleepy innocence of yesterday morning. “Did Theresa pack more of those in your luggage?”
I shook my head, unable to talk. Theresa had only packed the negligee, several nightgowns, and only one dress. Clearly, she had wanted me to spend my honeymoon doing exactly what I was doing.
When we got back to the palace, she would take one look at that negligee and start interrogating me.
Chevalier climbed out of bed and plucked the negligee from my fingers, tossing it in the corner with the growing pile of dirty sheets. I didn’t know which was more embarrassing, that pile, or standing here with him, the sunlight shining through the uncovered windows and highlighting every detail of our bodies. I stepped back quickly, shyly, but he pulled me flush against him with one arm and gave me a sugary sweet kiss. Or was I imagining that flavor?
“Chevalier, I—”
His tongue seized mine and erased the rest of that sentence from my mind. I moaned into his heated kisses, my hands naturally finding his firm chest and following his muscles up to his broad shoulders and around his neck, up into the fine strands of hair begging to tangle with my fingers. He grabbed me under my thighs, picking me up and wrapping my legs around his waist, startling me into breaking the kiss.
“Chevalier—”
“Before you insist on cleaning that mess up,” he purred, pressing me into the bed, “I want to mess you up.”
I’d heard that phrase before, I thought with a nervous thrill, but when he resumed stealing my breath and tracing my curves with his hands, the thought vanished in a rush of pleasurable sensations and melted sugar.21Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ84wMfOIlUl
