Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Mmm, the thought sends a delicious thrill right to my pussy. My sweet boys will place the attention on my body and won’t have time to be at each other’s throats. It’s a sweet sort of bedroom diplomacy that I’m so not above engaging in. The idea really turns me on, actually, and I hope that the next song will serve to cool me down some.
“Would you like to walk with me in your palace gardens tomorrow morning? I’d… like to see them,” Vincent says. I can tell that he’s looking to be honest with me, despite the fact that he wants to go to the gardens. Perhaps the fierce general is also into romantic strolls?
And I definitely have no problem with that. I take his hand and feel calmer just thinking about it. I want to be able to breathe in the air around us and not feel like everything is so heavy. The dancing calmed my nerves until it built them up again, and I remember Vincent’s nerves at being watched by Nathan.
“I’d like that, yes,” I say, taking Vincent’s hand he’s offering me. I squeeze it for a moment and release it. “I’m retiring for the night, but I’ll see you in the morning for that walk.”
Chapter Five
Vincent
I want to go to the garden. I dreamt about Isadora among the flowers that night but we both end up having to deal with phone calls, emails, and all that’s involved with running a nation for so long that we have to reschedule our walk for that evening. “No rest for the royal.” I laugh to myself. But these are the sacrifices we make to make sure our people are leading the best lives they can, and it is worth it. It makes me look forward to being in the gardens with Isadora even more, if that’s even possible.
It’s such a pleasant night, and I can imagine all the sweet smells of the orange and yellow gloriosas. They look like fire; they are gorgeous and smell so luscious. And then all the roses. I mean, roses are kind of generic, but they still need to be appreciated.
There’s also the smell of honeysuckle, and wet dirt, and it all combines to build the most heavenly scent. And you can’t just get that indoors.
I’m growing restless thinking about the garden.
I look at Isadora and try to determine what kind of flower she is. Her eyes are following my mouth like she just wants to kiss my lips. She keeps tracing her soft lips over mine, and then she glide her soft lips across my stubble. I haven’t shaved today. I feel I’m having a bit of an off day, but she seems to like that I haven’t shaved.
She wraps her arms around me and looks into my eyes with such adoration in hers that it grounds me, pulls me out of everything, and shakes me inside. I’ve never had anyone look at me like this my whole life, and I’ve never wanted anyone else to look at me the way that Isadora does. I have to have her. I know she’s to be my wife, but I need her to love me the way it will be so easy to love her.
She takes my square jaw into her hand and plants a hungry kiss on my mouth.
“Vincent.” She runs her hand through my hair.
She seems addicted. I won’t kiss her the way I usually kiss women. I’m not sure why. Because you care about her, because you want her to feel that when you kiss her.
My tongue won’t plummet into her sweet little mouth even though I know she wants it too. Her eyes might as well be two signs of lights that spell my name.
“Isadora,” I say her name out loud. I just want to. I love the fact that I’m with her tonight, and saying her name seems to celebrate that fact.
“Your voice is so deep,” she says, admirably. “If it were paint it would be black.”
So she’s comparing me to paint? I’m a little offended. She kisses me like she knows and wants to apologize.
She runs her hand over my knee. I want her to apply it to another part of me. I’m aching. I kiss her neck and breathe her in. She put on perfume today – I’m betting this morning, because it’s not overwhelming. The scent has faded somewhat, the way I want to fade into her.
“Let’s go to the garden, sweetheart,” I say. I stand up. My nice suit has come a bit undone. My shirt’s no longer in my pants. She unbuttoned one cuff around my wrist when she said, “You have such strong wrists.” Her dainty fingers circled them. My sweet Isadora seems to want to explore every part of me but that one part.