Hush (Black Lotus #3)(79)
“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?” Declan asks as we lie in bed, bodies naked and sticky with the smell of our sex in the air.
“Back to Brunswickhill.”
“Of all places, you choose our home in Scotland?”
“I love it there.”
Running his fingers lazily through my hair, he comments, “You love it that much?”
With my head tucked under his chin, I nod and then kiss his neck as I drape my leg over his hip. Declan grabs my ass and pulls me closer to him, forcing my * to grind against his hardening cock. Eager for him to fill me again, I reach down, take him in my hand, and guide him inside of me.
“Fuck me, baby,” he growls in need, and when he rolls onto his back, I reach my hands behind me to grab his thighs. Opening my body up to him even more in this position, I f*ck him as his hands touch every part of me—caressing, squeezing, pinching. He drives me wild, making me cum all over him, the whole time reaffirming my place in his world—in his heart.
“Let’s go there,” he says in a heavy breath as our hearts slow.
“Where?”
“Your fairytale castle.” He gives me a sexy smirk, and I release a soft laugh when excitement swells at the thought of going back to Scotland.
Something happens to me physically as we drive through the gates of Brunswickhill. I can’t fully explain it, but maybe this is what home feels like. It’s just the two of us, hand in hand, and for the first time in a very long time, my heart doesn’t feel so heavy.
When we get to the top of the winding drive, I hop out of the car, drop my head back, take in a deep breath, and smile.
“What are you doing?”
Declan wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me in close, and with my lips still painted in joy, I tell him, “It feels good to be back.”
“This house is your home now.”
“I’ve never had this before. I’ve never known home until right now—right here with you.”
“It’s a first for me too, darling, but I wouldn’t want this with anyone but you.”
His lips land on mine, taking me in a claiming kiss as my hands get lost in his hair. I taste his happiness when he dips his tongue inside my mouth and glides it along mine. This foreign feeling that swirls inside me takes me over and laughter slips out. He doesn’t stop dropping kisses on me though, and it’s only a matter of seconds when he begins to laugh too.
“What’s so funny?” he mumbles against my mouth.
I pull back and look up at him. “I’m just happy.”
Declan walks back to the Mercedes and pops open the hatchback to the SUV to grab our luggage, and as he does, I turn to look at the large, tiered fountain.
“Declan, look!” Amazed by the blooms, I walk over to the massive fountain and inhale the earthy scent.
“They’ve always bloomed in there,” he tells me as I look in wonderment at all the lotus flowers.
White mixed with every hue of pink, each one flawless despite the murky water they rose from. They glow as they bask in the sunshine.
“They’re so beautiful.”
“Come here,” he says. “I want to show you a part of the house you’ve never seen.”
We walk inside the double doors, and he drops our luggage in the foyer, taking my hand and leading me up the stairs all the way to the third floor and into his office.
“What are you doing?” I question as he runs his hand along the wall.
When he stops moving, he casts his eyes to me and, with a smile, gives the wall a push.
“Are you kidding me?” I laugh in surprise when it’s revealed that a portion of the wall is a hidden spring-loaded partition that opens up to a secret spiral staircase.
“Come on.”
I follow him up the narrow stairs, and when we reach the top, there’s another door that he opens. My eyes widen in amazement when I step out onto the rooftop, exposing a panoramic view of all of Galashiels. Declan reaches out for me, knowing my fear of heights, and walks me to the wall’s edge.
“You see that river?” he asks as he points out.
“Yes.”
“That’s the River Tweed. It divides Galashiels from Abbottsford. And you see that castle-like estate down there?”
“Yes.”
“That’s Sir Walter Scott’s home.”
“The poet?”
“Yes.”
“That’s no home,” I note as I look at the majestic estate that’s nestled down below from where Declan’s estate sits perched high on this hill. “That’s a palace!”
He chuckles. “It’s a museum now. There’s also a quaint restaurant that’s known for their shortcakes in there.”
We walk the border of the rooftop, and I look down to the grounds below, admiring all the colorful blooms that are coming to life as the weather warms. The past couple months of spring have done wonders, exposing more pebbled creeks that stream down various hills. There are too many flowers to count, along with a few stone benches—some that rest under trees and some that are out in the open. From up here, I can see the grassy paths that lead from one garden nook to the next, to the next, and to the next. A part of me feels like I’m cheating myself of the wanderlust of exploring and getting lost in the maze down there.