Page 43 of Royally Drawn (Resplendent Royals #3)

Protection

INGRID

“ I don’t want to wait a minute more. I’ve waited long enough.”

I said it, desperate for Keir to take off all his clothes and join me in bed. Instead, he let out a sigh and shook his head. He’d come all this way, and I’d think of the most wonderful way to greet him. So, here I was, waiting up in bed naked, and there he was, still dressed and looking cross.

“We need to talk, Ingrid,” Keir said. Can you at least put on a dressing gown? You’re so distracting.”

I pulled the covers up to my collarbones and sat up. “What?”

“Let me preface this with the fact that I love you very much,” Keir said. “But I am also concerned.”

“Concerned?”

This came out of left field. We’d been tangled in the sheets two weeks ago, making love endlessly at his cottage on the Sandringham grounds. I didn’t think I even put on clothes for about ninety per cent of the weekend. I’d left there feeling so overwhelmingly in love with him. Now, he looked like he was about to end it all.

“The article was… Ingrid, you cannot… ”

“Spit it out,” I said, annoyed. “Just say what you want to say. Spare me any sugarcoating.”

“Don’t get upset with me.”

“I’m not,” I said. “But if you love me, you owe me honesty.”

Keir nodded, appearing understanding. “Everyone has to know it’s either me or Duncan. And given Duncan has been chasing tail for the past month and getting himself into loads of trouble, it’s not Duncan. So, it’s me. Your statement?—”

“I never named you.”

“That item was not blind, Ingrid. I don’t know if this whole thing excites you or if you care about us succeeding. Maybe you don’t know the rules. You’re just… inexperienced.”

I didn’t like anyone infantilising me. His words reduced me to a child who couldn’t handle the rules of engagement of royal dating.

“I am sorry I was cheeky, but I’m allowed to have feelings.”

“Oh, Ingrid, I know. Darling, I know.” Keir softened a bit, reaching for my hand.

I pulled it back. “No, you don’t know. And if I’m inexperienced, then aren’t you just some predator exploiting me?”

“I don’t mean it like that. I mean… I’ve been dancing around these questions a lot longer.”

“Maybe I don’t want to dance around them?” I demanded. “Maybe you’re just embarrassed by me?”

“Oh, Ingrid,” Keir sighed. “I don’t mean it like that. I love you.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“Tone it down.”

“Because you don’t want people to know.”

“No, my love. Because I don’t want people harassing you, I don’t want you getting hurt. It worries me.”

“I have lived this life my entire?—”

“You don’t understand the British press. I’ve told you this before. They raked my mother over the coals in ways I cannot describe.”

“I can handle it. I’m tough.”

“So is Mamma,” Keir said, voice sharp. “You aren’t listening. You think you know, but you cannot know.”

His tone didn’t upset me as much as it worried me. I relented, giving him a look. I wanted him to explain. I knew he needed to get this out.

“Mamma and Dad… they kept things under wraps. They dated in America and came to the UK once my father decided he’d marry her. They only went public upon their engagement.”

“That sounds fucking miserable,” I admitted.

“It was for her security. Things were different then. I don’t know if you know this, but my mother had two mothers. Her older mother—the one she called Mom—died when I was younger. The younger one—she called her Mamma—died only a few years back. She lived a very long life and was one of the most important people in my life. She held us together when Daddy died. Anyhow, two moms led to many questions—namely about my mother’s parentage.”

“Why would they care?”

“She and my Aunt Linnea are twins born to a lesbian couple. It was a big deal for their daughter to marry into our family in Britain.”

“Oh, Linnea is my niece’s name,” I said.

“I know,” Keir said. “It is a good name. But the press… they couldn’t drop the rope. They chased down leads and eventually found my mother’s sperm donor—a very famous British musician who was friends with my grandmother back when she was still modelling. And… he copped to it. He went on a publicity tour. The press ran story after story, and he kept trying to get the girls to meet him. My Aunt met with him, and the press tried to get her on record about it. Mamma never did. There was a rift there between them. This happened on the week of Mamma’s wedding. They did resolve it and still love one another, but the press nearly destroyed that bond and ruined my parents’ wedding.”

“I’m sorry for that. That’s unfair,” I said.

“This is why I am protective of you, baby.”

“Things have changed, though. Certainly, things are better?”

Keir shook his head. “Ask Leah sometime about them. Years before, her fathers confirmed her parentage to anyone in the family. It’s a sore spot with her. Uncle Patrick and Uncle George both had embryos. Uncle Patrick’s ended in a miscarriage. Uncle George’s survived. Leah never confirms or denies which is her biological father. We know, but no one else officially knows. Yet, they bring it up nonstop.”

“Is it not obvious?” I asked. “She could be a dead ringer for your Aunt Natalie.”

“I know,” Keir chuckled. “And yet they will not shut the fuck up. That’s my point.”

I backed down, feeling a bit bewildered by his words.

“I don’t want them to chase you. I am so protective, Ingrid. I don’t want to stifle you, but I want to ensure your safety. I must leave you in a few weeks. I only have that time with you before I will be a long, long way off. Okay?”

I nodded.

Keir scooted closer, taking my face in his hands. He slowly placed a kiss on my forehead as if he was soaking me up. I tried not to think about what things would look like when he was gone for good—when there weren’t weekends of us tangled in sheets and where he was halfway around the world. I wanted everything to be like this—me feeling inventive by waiting for him naked in bed and him telling me he loved me over and over. I wasn’t ready for the summer to end.

“I don’t want to talk about you leaving,” I said. “Not now. Not ever.”

“Ingrid, it will happen.”

“I know. But I want to be with you until then. Let’s not focus on it. I’m gutted thinking about it.”

Keir kissed me, running his fingers through my hair and sucking on my lower lip. The covers fell around me, but I didn’t pick them back up. I focused on how it felt to have him here, pulling tightly on the roots like he never wanted to let me go. It was delicious.

Keir pulled back and smiled at me.

“Get naked,” I said. “I want you in bed. And you’ve drawn it out long enough.”

“You think you get to be demanding, Ingrid?” Keir asked, pushing me back on the pillows.

“When you won’t cooperate, I can only make demands.”

“Who says I will follow through?” He bent down, kissing one nipple, then sucking and moving to the other .

That same electric feeling took over—like a clap of thunder and a bolt of lightning all at once. I used my whole body to tell him how badly I wanted this. I shuddered as he ran his hand between my legs, finding me already wet. Keir continued getting me closer and closer, alternating between sucking and licking my nipple, all while he thrust his fingers in and out of my pussy.

I moaned louder and louder, hoping that Odette wouldn’t hear me about to cum on the other side of the wall. After a while—having gotten so close to ecstasy—I didn’t care who heard me anymore. The sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of my wet centre and his palm slapping against my clit picked up as I reached my high.

“Oh God, Keir. Oh God!” I shrieked.

My body shuddered, and my legs felt like Jello. The sweetest part was how he looked at me—first, with deep satisfaction for what he’d done, then with love and affection.

“You still make the most beautiful sounds when you cum,” he said. “I live for it.”

“You make it sound like a symphony.”

“To me, it could be,” Keir said, kissing me.

I melted as he parted my legs and pressed me to the bed.

“Get naked,” I laughed. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Greedy, aren’t we?”

“I’m offering all of me. Are you turning me down, baby?”

“No,” Keir said. “Definitely not.”