Dark Descent into Desire by J. J. Sorel

Author:J. J. Sorel [Sorel, J. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: self
Published: 2020-04-25T16:00:00+00:00

46

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PENELOPE

RAVEN ABBEY LOOKED LIKE something out of Grimm’s Fairy Tales. I almost expected a scarf to float out of the turret’s window. It certainly was an artist’s playground, and I couldn’t wait to create some sketches.

I was so taken with the facade, climbing up the stairs to what was now a hotel, that I tripped, and Blake caught me in those strong arms of his.

“You lived here?” I asked, my mouth wide. The grand entrance with the double staircase that spiraled to the first floor captivated me.

Blake nodded.

“Hello, Mr. Sinclair,” said the woman at the desk.

“Morning, Claire. This is Penelope, my girlfriend. Just taking her for a tour.”

“Welcome,” she said in a broad Irish accent.

“There’s a fresh batch of scones being served.” She gave me a bright smile.

Blake looked at me, and I nodded keenly. The country air had stimulated my appetite.

We broke our journey by staying at Nottingham, which was like stepping back in time. I gasped in wonder as we wandered through the forest, imagining Robin Hood in a tree, about to pounce. We even stayed at a castle that was now a hotel. I was convinced there were ghosts, given the creaking doors and howling wind, but it made for an entertaining experience, although I couldn’t have done it alone.

Blake’s tanned features had a healthy, warm glow. He looked different. In London, he wore cosmopolitan sexiness with ease, but in the country, the light made his eyes bluer, and he looked ruggedly handsome amidst nature.

The visit was primarily to scatter Milly’s ashes, and after my emotionally challenging fortnight, the countryside was just what I needed. I was touched that Blake, a normally private person, wished to show me his birthplace.

There was no question—I did want to marry him. After that heart-wrenching break, I couldn’t imagine my life without Blake. I just needed to know that it wasn’t only lust, given that he couldn’t take his hands off me. I loved having them all over me. Our deep sexual connection was torrid and addictive.

But can we do forever?

We sat in a big sunny room converted into a restaurant. Butter melted all over the freshly baked scones. I added some raspberry jam and whipped cream, and after taking a bite, I sang, “Yum.”

Blake wiped his lips and nodded. “Mm… they’re terrific all right.” He smiled wickedly. “Even the simple act of eating scones and jam is erotic around you.” He pointed at my cleavage.

I looked down and saw that some jam had slid down my front. “Ah… damn.” I grabbed a napkin to wipe it.

He shook his head. “No. Don’t. Leave it, and I’ll lick it off. With pleasure. In fact, this jam is so damn delicious I can imagine it spread all over you.”

I giggled and heated up at the same time. But I ended up cleaning it up anyway after noticing an elderly couple entering the room.

“This was once the ballroom,” said Blake, pointing up at the chandeliers.

I was in awe of the stained glass windows.

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