Chapter 194

It had taken a few days to get everything at the Printing Press organised. Elain and made her decisions, and answered the questions of anyone working there who needed to know the answer to this or that, and then she had been free to leave the process up to those whose business it was. They were simply waiting for Amren's edited version of the book to be returned to Elain, who would go over it once more to check that everything was to her liking, and then the whole thing was to go to print.

She was both excited and nervous. During the course of putting the book together, Elain kind of thought that she had lost sight of the fact that others would be reading the book. It had become something she had done just for herself. If she were being honest, she might have completely forgotten that she had been writing it for anyone else. Each new Court she and Lucien had done to, she had found whatever flowers appealed to her, and she had gotten joy from trying to draw them, making notes on each. It had been a way to explore the exciting new places, a way to spend time with Lucien, and she hadn't really thought much beyond that in a while. She hoped that someone else would enjoy what she had put together.

It seemed strange to Elain that strangers would be reading what she had written, but also strangely thrilling. It felt almost as if she would be able to teach others about the beauty of the Courts she had seen, about the flowers which grew there. How bizarre, she thought, it was to be able to speak to so many people she may never actually lay eyes upon, and have them hear her words.

Eyeing the books on her nightstand, Elain wondered what it might be like to write other kinds of books, and have people read them. She had always enjoyed stories, she figured. What if she tried to write one? The idea filled Elain with excitement, and she felt a questioning tug down the bond. Lucien must have picked up on that excitement, and he wanted to know what had gotten her riled up. She sent him a brief flicker of reassurance, before reaching across to grab a blank notebook and something to write with.

Settling herself back against the pillows on her bed, and her headboard, Elain chewed her lip. What would she write about? Should it be an adventure? A mystery? A romance? What would the broader message be? What did she want to say to her audience? She wasn't sure, but she knew there should be something.

When Lucien sent her another questioning feeling, Elain bit her lip, picturing her mate in her mind. Perhaps it should be a romance…

"Hmm…" She murmured, remembering the way that Lucien had very much enjoyed reading that book that Nesta had leant her out loud. If Elain were to write something similar, she would just bet that her mate would be all too thrilled to read it… "Hmm…" biting her lower lip, Elain tapped the pencil against her chin. Lucien, she was certain, would very much enjoy reading something like that, especially if Elain had written it.

Smoothing the notepad, even though it was brand new and unused, Elain tried to think. She didn't think she would begin with a huge epic tale, but rather just a simple scene. It seemed the best way to try and gauge if she even had any talent for this type of thing. She also suspected that she didn't have all that much time before Lucien returned to the suite and she wouldn't be able to continue without him reading over her shoulder. She didn't want to show him what she was writing, at least not until she was complete and he could have it all in a single go.

Casting her eyes around the room, Elain thought about everything that she and her mate had done in here. Her eyes caught on the kitchen table, and she remembered the way that he had bent her over that. She had spoken to him on several occasions about unleashing himself, and not allowing others to dictate to him who he was, and who he ought to be. Perhaps something of that nature.

Looking down at her blank paper, Elain let out a sigh and began to write.

She panted when his hands took hold of her shoulders, sliding down to her wrists, and then he had turned her, spinning her around until her back was pressed to his firm chest. He gave her only a moment to adjust to this new position, with him at her back, and then his hands had moved back up to her shoulders and he had bent her over the kitchen bench. She let out a wanton moan, letting him know that she was enjoying this, and that she was keen for more from him.

"Are you ready?" he asked her, and she could feel him pressed up against her, long and hot. Nodding she looked over her shoulder, wanting to see his eyes as he looked at her, wanting to see just how much he desired her.

"Yes…" she breathed, seeing that desire burning hot and bright within him, and the sight of it tightened something within her. He didn't reply, but rather slid his hands down her back and up the outside of her thighs, taking the skirts of her dress with them. She let her head fall forward, her eyes closing as she adjusted her stance, moving her feet wider apart as he pressed up against her once more. When he had bunched her dress up over her hips, she felt him adjusting himself, heard him kick his pants away, and she opened her eyes. Bracing herself against her forearms, she bit her lip when his hands slid down between her thighs, and he pressed a finger into her. "Mmm…" trying to steady herself, she bit down harder on her lip, wanting to be ready for what came next as he pulled that finger out of her.

"Already drenched…" his lips were at her ear as he bent over her, and she nodded. She had been since his hands had first taken hold of her. She wanted him, so very much.

"Yes…" she panted, her eyes half closing, as she tried to force herself to breath, "Yes… please…"

Again, he didn't reply. She wasn't too concerned about that however, as his hands went to her hips, his hold almost bruising, as he swiftly positioned himself correctly, and then slid purposefully inside of her. Squeezing her eyes shut, she gripped the bench tightly in her hands, widening her stance even more for him, wanting to give him space to really move, and th-"

Elain snapped her notebook shut when the door opened and Lucien strolled in, one hand in his hair, and looking entirely unconcerned, and unaware of the fact that her eyes followed him as he moved across the room.

"Petal…" he greeted, noticing her watching him a moment later.

"Hello…" She surreptitiously slid the notebook under the covers, crossing her legs in an attempt to look as if she had simply been lounging casually.

"What have you been up to?" he asked, and she saw him tilt his head, his chin lifting slightly. With a jolt, she realised that he was scenting the air, and an instant later, she realised that she had worked herself into a bit of a state, and that Lucien could smell her arousal.

"N-nothing much…" she breathed, crossing her legs even more firmly. The smirk that he gave her told her that he didn't believe her, but she tried to keep her face neutral all the same. He had no cause to realise that she had been writing smut.

"Nothing, you say?" he moved toward the bed, and Elain recognised that same feline grace that Helion possessed. "Nothing sure smells delicious…"

"Does it?" she asked, her eyes unable to leave his. Elain saw no problem with Lucien thinking that she had been touching herself, if that was the conclusion he had come to. The look he was giving her suggested that he did indeed think something of that sort and, when he knelt on the bed, still moving toward her, Elain rather thought that she would let him touch her instead.