Chapter 127
Lysander’s pov
"Wake up, little bird." Drake whispered in my ear before he drifted away.
When I didn’t move, he blew a breath in my ear till it tickled.
I moaned, shifting away from him. I heard him chuckle and move away.
"If you don’t let me sleep for at least twelve hours, Drake, I am going to murder you."
My voice was a rough, pathetic rasp, barely audible, even to my own ears. I tried to roll over onto my stomach, but a sharp, throbbing ache in my lower back instantly killed the idea.
My thighs felt bruised, my joints felt like lead, and my entire body was humming with the lingering aftershocks of a man who didn’t know the meaning of the word moderation.
Drake let out a low, dark rumble of a laugh from the edge of the bed. I opened my eyes to see that he was already dressed in a dark shirt, and looking infuriatingly well-rested.
"You say that, little bird, yet your pulse spikes every time I touch you," he purred.
He set a silver tray with hot tea on the nightstand, leaning over to cup my jaw in his broad, cool palm. His thumb stroked over my cheekbone, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he took in the dark purple marks dusting my collarbones.
"Hmm," he made a satisfactory sound in his throat.
We had barely survived the week. Between the effects of the aphrodisiac and Drake’s relentless appetite and mine, we had practically torn the suite apart.
After the aphrodisiac wore off, I made him so horny that we continued even after the shower sex.
He had taken me against the marble counters, on the terrace under the stars, and deep into the mattress until I was hoarse from whimpering his name.
"I can’t walk," I grumbled, leaning my face into his cold palm anyway, my eyes fluttering shut. "I’m serious. My legs are broken."
"Drink your tea," he murmured, pressing a lingering, coffee-tasted kiss against my forehead. "The car is waiting downstairs. It’s time to go home."
I perked up when I heard that, as much as I enjoyed this time alone for us, I wanted to get back into the real world with him. We could always have a lot of sex there.
I took the tea and he urged me to go shower, I did and dressed up in the most casual thing I had.
We finished and went to the airport, the flight was short and he had a car ready to collect us
The car glided silently along the highway. I leaned my head against the glass of the passenger window, watching the ocean fade into thick, green pine forests as we drove north.
Beside me, Drake kept one large hand wrapped firmly around mine, his thumb tracing mindless, soothing circles over my knuckles while he read through his tablet.
I braced myself for the central city, and the familiar road of the compound. I sucked in a breath when I thought of everyone’s nose in our business.
Sure, they would be curious to know what happened between us and I wasn’t ready for that part yet.
The car swerved when the driver took an unexpected turn off the main highway, cutting down a private, winding cobblestone road that snaked deep into a secluded valley.
I immediately panicked, and my chest seized in an effort to sit up. I pulled my brows together and swung my gaze to a calm Drake.
"Drake?"
"Hmm," he gave me a noncommittal hum.
"Drake," I said more urgently.
He looked up at me, "Yeah?"
"This isn’t the way to the compound."
"I know," he said simply, setting his tablet aside.
The trees cleared, revealing a sprawling, breathtaking estate built directly into the side of a cliff face. Massive floor-to-ceiling glass walls glinted in the setting sun, framed by dark slate, teak wood, and manicured courtyard gardens. It was completely isolated, tucked away from the rest of the world.
The car stopped on the smooth gravel driveway. I stared out the window, my lips parted. "What is this place?"
"It’s ours," Drake said quietly, stepping out and holding his hand out for me. "I bought it three months ago. I had the entire property reinforced with double-layered security, but I wanted the interior designed specifically for you. A place where you can feel at home and safe."
My heart did a violent, soaring flip against my ribs.
"Come on, let’s go in."
Drake led me up the floating stone steps and through the massive front doors into a grand, open-concept living space with vaulted ceilings and panoramic views of the valley. He didn’t let me linger, guiding me straight down a quiet stone hallway to a set of double frosted-glass doors at the end.
When he pushed them open, I completely forgot how to breathe.
It was an art studio, massive, pristine, and bathed in perfect northern light from a solid glass wall. Custom teak shelves were stacked with imported cotton canvases, jars of raw pigment, sable brushes, and heavy sketchbooks. In the center stood a massive wooden easel, and off to the side, a private balcony overlooked a rushing mountain stream.
"You... you built this for me?" I whispered, my voice cracking as I touched the smooth wood of the easel.
Drake stepped up behind me, wrapping his broad arms around my waist and pulling me flush against his chest.
He rested his chin on my shoulder, his warm breath fanning against my ear. "Everything here was built to keep you safe, happy, and inspired, Lysander. This is your sanctuary."
A sudden wave of emotion hit me so hard my eyes stung. I turned in his arms, throwing my hands around his neck, and kissed him with everything I had.
Drake let out a low growl, his grip tightening like iron around my waist as he lifted me slightly off my feet, deepening the kiss until we were both breathless.
When we finally parted, our foreheads rested together, our breathing ragged.
Yet, as I looked into his glowing red eyes, an instinctual, ice-cold prickle suddenly flared across the back of my neck.
It lasted for only a microsecond, a faint, ghost-like shiver that made the hair on my arms stand up. It felt as though, someone was watching me.
I blinked hard, forcing the strange, paranoid sensation down into the darkest corner of my mind. It’s just trauma, I told myself fiercely, tightening my grip on the front of Drake’s shirt. The house is strong. I’m safe.
I forced a breathless, playful smile onto my lips, looking up at him, my hands slid down to his belt buckle.
"It’s a beautiful house, Drake," I whispered, my voice dipping into a low purr. "And especially the studio you built for me."
"I am glad you like it," he said as a flash of desire appeared in his eyes.
I rose on my tiptoes and whispered in his ears, "So... should we christen the house first?"