Page 21 of Parker

Chapter sixteen

Knox Castle, The Scottish Highlands

Nicky

As his body presses against mine, I can’t help but wonder when I will wake up from this dream. Can someone like me truly belong in a castle with a man like Joel? Is this a window into my future, or are we merely pretending?

His lips trail over my skin, his breath hot against my neck. I feel the weight of his gaze before I even open my eyes, and when I do, I meet the familiar green of his—intense, focused, full of affection.

His mouth moves to my chest, and his hands, gentle but insistent, coax me into a state of heightened awareness.

I feel every shift of his body, the way he hovers over me, the way he takes his time, teasing and worshiping.

Running my fingers through his unruly curls, I pull gently, and a smile tugs at the corner of my lips.

“Joel,” I whisper, my voice husky with desire. Meeting my gaze, his grin masks eyes that hold something more profound than our physical connection. He’s not just taking me; he’s cherishing me. It feels like a dream.

“I’ve never felt about anyone the way I do about you. You make me whole.” Warm lips press on my collarbone. “You’re my future, Nicky. I know it.”

I can hardly believe this is my life now. The castle, the luxury, the constant attention from the man I love. It all feels surreal. I’ve spent so much time hiding from the world, from my past, and yet here, with him, I feel safe, desired, worthy. But... I still wonder. Do I belong here?

The contrast between this life and the one I left behind feels sharper every time I look at him. The wealth, the perfection. It seems too good to be true. And I’m here, living in it.

My lids close, and I let the sensations wash over me. This isn’t just about pleasure. It’s about him showing me he sees me, truly sees me, and he’s not going anywhere.

It’s our second and final night at Knox Castle.

The four-poster bed, the brocade curtains, the grand windows—everything is far beyond my wildest dreams. We’ve spent our days in our private world, and each moment feels like something from a storybook.

But I can’t forget where I came from. I can’t shake the feeling that this life is something I don’t deserve. I’m not sure I’m ready for all of it.

“Are you getting hungry, baby?” Joel’s voice cuts through my thoughts. I bite my lip. “I was talking about food, you filthy girl, but I’ll be taking my fill of you later.” His words are a promise, and I feel the heat in them, even as he pulls back, glancing at me with that wicked grin.

The man is limitless. He has been going down on me for hours, despite that, he’s not satisfied. A girl could get used to this. And he’s all mine.

I run my hands over his strong back, feeling the muscles beneath my fingertips. This is my happy place. His skin beneath mine, the safe, steady rhythm of his breathing. A life I feel like I shouldn’t be living.

“Hey,” Joel says, as my mind wanders. “We should get up for a while. Maybe go see the castle we’re staying in.

Or didn’t you notice?” I chuckle softly.

“My mother paid a small fortune for the place. I don’t want to just be able to describe the bedsheets to her.

” He rolls his eyes, but there’s affection in his gaze.

“Trust me, she’ll want a report. We need to have something to tell her. ”

I sigh, defeated. “Okay, let’s go.”

Our clothes are still in our cases at the door.

Nothing has been unpacked. Wheeling my case over to the bed, I lift it onto the comforter.

Digging through my options, I decide on a soft blue wool sweater, cut-off jeans, and simple black ballet pumps.

I twist my hair into a knot, and we head off to explore the castle.

Joel wraps his arm around my waist as we wander the halls. Banners and portraits hang on the walls. Suits of armor sit proudly in every corridor, surrounded by artifacts from past residents. I half expect a young boy with a wand to pop out from a hidden archway.

Silence encircles us. We don’t speak, merely absorb our surroundings as we stroll through the past. We pass a door ajar.

I pull Joel’s hand and lead him into the mysterious room, gasping in surprise.

The walls are lined with books, thousands of them.

A rickety-looking ladder on wheels is resting in the corner.

“You like to read?” he asks, and I nod enthusiastically. “What sort of books?”

“Nothing you would like.” I giggle. “Fiction mainly, romance, and stories of a time long gone. The classics are my favorite. In prison…” I pause to collect my thoughts.

“In prison, reading gave me an escape. There was a library. Most of the books were old and in terrible shape. But when I wasn’t studying or working in the laundry, that’s where I was. ”

The library here is a far cry from the one I was familiar with in prison, but what they offer is the same. Escape, hope, and adventure, all contained as simple ink on paper. Perhaps I’m not so different from the people who walked these halls before me, if we can all appreciate the same escape.

“So, you’re a romantic then?” He smirks. “Must be, to marry a man you only met a few months ago.”

“I suppose I am.”

Not being able to wait any longer, my fingers itch to explore.

These books are long forgotten, many bound in leather, waiting to be read.

My husband watches me, his eyes intent. He wouldn’t know I have a love of literature.

We know so little about each other. The realization is unsettling. We’ve moved so damn fast.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” I gush.

“Yes, Nicky. Yes, you are.”

The first book I pick is a worn romance book. Annotations fill the margins when I open it. Although the ink is faded, I can just make out one line.

She loved him, even though he was beyond her.

I freeze, my heart stalling. Please don’t let this be my story, too.

A knock at the door interrupts my unease. Hamish enters the room. He nods to me before looking directly at Joel. “Apologies for interrupting, sir. Would you like dinner this evening in your room or the dining room?” Joel’s eyes come to mine before he answers, and I shrug.

“The dining room this evening, please, Hamish. At eight, if that’s suitable.”

“Very well, sir.”

***

Silver candlesticks burn in the center of the long wooden table.

The yellow flames cast a glow over the surface and glint off the silverware.

Trays piled high with roasted meat, vegetables, and bread sit before us, far too much for only two people.

It smells divine, and my stomach growls in appreciation.

Joel picks up the silver fork, cutting into the decadent food as if it’s an everyday meal. To him, I suppose it is. He’s grown up surrounded by wealth in stark contrast to me. This is his baseline. For me, it’s a reminder of how far apart our pasts are.

“Eat,” he says softly, glancing up. I hesitate, staring at the array of cutlery with no idea where to begin.

“Start from the outside,” he adds, his tone warm.

“You look good in here, with me. This is where you belong.” And it’s as if he can see all my fears rising inside in this perfect candlelit moment.

After finding the library, Joel dragged me back to our room, informing me we had to get ready for dinner.

We needed to dress up for the occasion, apparently.

Rolling my eyes and cursing him silently, I had done as I was told.

Luckily, it had been in my best interests, as for the next hour, he had worshiped my body, my evening starting in the most wonderful way.

As I laid in the huge roll-top bath, he had washed me gently, every part of me cleansed with a sponge and love.

Gliding the soapy surface over my body, he had me sitting between his legs with his lips on my neck and his hard cock snuggled between my butt cheeks.

I wriggled against him, trying to encourage him, but he nipped my neck, warning me to be patient.

He touches me as if I’m new, not the broken girl filled with trauma and anger he fell for, the one hardened by betrayal and years behind bars. I let him trace my skin, praying he never finds the cracks.

After our bath, he made love to me slowly, sensually, and exquisitely. Starting at my inner ankle, he trailed kisses over my body, skipping my private areas, his dancing fingers teasing my skin. Arousal coursed through me as my blood warmed. Closing my eyes, I moaned in pleasure.

“Joel,” I pleaded. “I need you inside me.”

“Patience,” he whispered.

“We’ll be late for dinner,” I said, wanting him to hurry.

He chuckled. “The staff are here to dance to our tune, baby. Not the other way around. You’ll be fucked when I say you can be.

” The exquisite torture continued until the tremor between my legs was unbearable.

He slid one finger inside, then brought it to his lips to taste me.

“So wet, so swollen, and so damn good.” His eyes dilated with excitement, his cock hard.

After dropping his lips to my ear, he whispered, “Now you’re ready for me. ”

I smile softly to myself as I recollect the past hour making love with my husband, and he gives me a knowing look. As I pop another piece of the delicious fare into my mouth, I chew slowly, and he runs his tongue over his bottom lip.

When we are in the same room, his eyes never leave my body. I’m always acutely aware of him. The feelings that pass between us are intense and honest.

“What’s going through that mind of yours?” he asks. “I would love an hour in there to understand you better. To give you everything you want.”

My heart swells with his words. This man has saved me. Without him, I fear my life would have spiraled out of control. With the limited support system around me, all my hard work would have come undone. Sophie wouldn’t be able to single-handedly assist with my reintroduction into society.

I stand and go to him, lowering myself onto his lap. With my arms around his neck, my lips take his urgently, trying to show him how much he means to me.

A tear rolls down my cheek. He’s offered me a life I could never have dreamed of, and I’m almost beginning to believe I deserve it.

“Joel Parker, you’re the single best thing that has ever happened to me. And I love you with all my heart.” He smiles as if I’ve just handed him world peace. I smile back, my fears of our mismatch receding into the corners of my mind. Please let this be real.

“We may have moved fast, but the feeling is mutual. Life without you just wouldn’t be worth living,” he whispers. And I pray again.