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I’m so lucky to have friends that have rallied round to support me in this endeavour, and of course, the unwavering support of the man I love.
Said man who is currently giving me a mischievous grin, green eyes twinkling with devilment.
“What?” I ask nervously.
“I was just thinking we should christen this place, Angel.”
“We did, remember?” I remind him, amusement colouring my tone, even as my core clenches at the memory. I can still remember the feel of the cool, wet wall against my back as Lycus pinned me there, his breath hot and heavy against my face.
Lycus had been watching me that whole time, his dark eyes following my every move. I was in the middle of inspecting the finishing touches on the bookshop, making sure everything was perfect for our grand opening. The smell of fresh paint hung in the air, a stark contrast to the intensity of Lycus’ lust-filled stare.
I never thought he would actually follow through with what he said. But there he was, towering over me in the small office, having captured me easily with my lacklustre effort at running from him, his hand gripping my arm, pulling me closer. His chest heaving, his breath a ragged whisper in my ear, “You know you want this, don’t you? You wouldn’t have made it so easy for me to catch you otherwise.”
I tried to resist, but it was no use. The seconds dragged on as he stripped me naked and positioned me against the paint-smeared wall, his body pressed against mine.
The paint was still wet and sticky, leaving a trail of colour down my back. It felt strange, but I couldn’t help the way my body reacted to his touch.
He whispered into my ear again, his voice strained and low. “Let’s make this place a little more personal, shall we?”
And then, he took me. His powerful body consuming mine, the wet wall the only thing separating us from the rest of the world. Every thrust, every gasp, every moan, it all felt like an eternity. And when he was done, I felt as if I had been claimed, branded by him, by the mark left behind on the wall.
I shake my head, snapping out of my filthy daydream.
“The paint was still wet on the walls and we had to get the decorator back to cover my ass print,” I grumble half-heartedly. Christening my office was actually one of my highlights of the whole build.
Lycus chuckles. “You should have left it and let me frame it.”
“You took a picture. That was more than enough,” I reply dryly.
Lycus winks at me playfully, his hand reaching out to intertwine our fingers. “I mean christen it in a different way, Angel,” he teases, his voice low and suggestive.
I feel a blush creep up my cheeks as I realise his insinuation. Despite the overwhelming to do list and the excitement of the night ahead, there’s a flicker of desire igniting between us.
Lycus always has a way of making me feel desired and cherished in equal measure, and even now, I’m drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
“Are you suggesting what I think you are…Sir?” I reply with a smirk, my heart pounding in anticipation.
His grin widens as he leans in closer, his lips barely grazing my ear. “Only if you’re up for some after-hours exploration of our new domain,” he whispers huskily.
My pulse quickens at his words, and I know that tonight is going to be even more amazing than I had anticipated. With a playful glint in my eye, I squeeze his hand and respond, “Later. Lead the way, Lycus. Let’s make some unforgettable memories in our little haven of books, wine, and love.”
“Don’t forget the cheese, Angel.”
“Oh, I never forget the cheese,” I reply with a wink, feeling a surge of excitement and anticipation coursing through my veins. We lock eyes for a moment, a silent promise passing between us, before we break into smiles and turn to face our guests eagerly awaiting the start of our grand opening night.
As the bookshop and wine bar fills with laughter and chatter, the clinking of glasses and the rustle of pages creating a symphony of joyous noise, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude.
This place, this dream made reality, is not just a business venture – it’s a sanctuary for kindred spirits to come together, to share stories and create new ones, to bask in the warmth of community and love.
Lycus squeezes my hand reassuringly, his gaze never wavering from mine as if to say, ‘You did it’. But it wasn’t just me.Wedid it. Together, we turned an old abandoned building into a – hopefully, soon to be – thriving hub of creativity and connection, a place where everyone is welcome and every story is celebrated.
As the night unfolds with wine flowing freely and books flying off the shelves, I steal a moment alone with Lycus amidst the bustle. We find ourselves in the heart of the bookshop, surrounded by towering shelves filled with literary wonders and cosy reading corners, beckoning visitors to get lost in their pages.
I link my arm through his, and we wander through the aisles, basking in the warm glow of the fairy lights strung overhead. The laughter and chatter of our guests swirl around us like music, a joyful backdrop to the contentment that fills my heart.
“Do you remember when this was just an empty space with peeling wallpaper and dust-covered floors?” Lycus asks softly, his eyes reflecting the flickering light of the candles scattered around us.
I nod, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “It feels like a lifetime ago, even though it’s only been a few crazy, hectic weeks. But now look at it – filled with life, love, and stories waiting to be read and told.”
