[A little note: This was my first ever fanfic for Drake and Robyn that was specifically nsfw.]
[Summary: The night before the coronation ball was MC’s (Robyn’s) last attempt at proving to herself and Drake that the moments in between which lead to their moment of passion from the Beaumont’s study meant more than a simple lapse of judgment.]
“The mind replays what the heart cannot delete.”
She knew where to find him even without looking.
The bar was near the bottom of the castle, tucked away and forgotten by most. It was the only place Drake had often wandered to late at night when he thought everyone else was asleep. When he wanted to be alone.
She toyed nervously with a strand of loose hair as she drifted closer, and with each step she took weighed heavily on her conscience, made her second guess if this was a good idea. It probably wasn’t a good idea.
She should be asleep, the coronation ball was tomorrow and she needed to place distance between them. That was what he wanted right? What she wanted? Distance.
They never spoke about their night in the Beaumont’s study again -not in so many words, and the guilt ate away at her. Prevented her from seeking him out. She had worked hard in convincing herself that this was the better option.
She was never the sort of woman to run after someone but ever since that night, that was all she had wanted to do.
Something had changed between them.
Though her eyes still sought his no matter the room, longed for his familiar face and sarcasm, his withering scowl – it always ended the same. With the other looking away first, pretending they were nothing more than strangers. And when they did happen to be inadvertently drawn together, their gestures and eyes echoed something different, distant reminders of being more than simple acquaintances, and yet more complicated than friendship.
It was supposed to be better this way, hurt less in the long run.
For her, nothing could have been further from the truth. It didn’t matter how much she tried to stay away. Her feet, her heart – they always lead back to him. Not Liam, him.
No one else had ever made it so readily easy for her to forget and ignore people’s expectations. To sink into delusions of wanting more without the fair assumption of asking for more. There was no one telling her what to think and how to feel around this time of night.
If Bertrand knew what she was thinking this very second, she could imagine him running down here to yank her away; reminding her of duties to the Beaumont family over her own desires. And the scandal it would cause for his house. It should make her think twice about this, but it doesn’t.
She braced herself before stepping inside, eyes casting hasty glances across the room until she spotted him; harboring a bottle of whiskey by a bar stool.
His shoulders were slightly slumped, and his hands were by his temple.
Her bravery of interrupting him halted at the sight. She was having second thoughts watching him.
The way he swigged his whiskey high in the air, and mumbled under his breath before placing it back on the smooth counter. His insistent tapping by his right foot.
He froze when he heard her footsteps, moving to close the door behind her.
Her breath caught inside her throat as their eyes locked.
Her stomach suddenly bunched, nerves that threatened to make her turn around. To run away and go back to pretending. It was the first time they had been left alone since that night. The first time that merely looking at him had been enough at convincing her it all had been real.
She saw the same reflection in his eyes she had begun feeling. A mixture of longing and pain all twisted together, as if he couldn’t believe she was really standing right in front of him.
She didn’t know what to say.
He didn’t appear inclined to say anything.
Then they changed. His eyes darkened and his jaw tightened in anger at the sight of her.
She had to say something – anything, but any semblance of what to say in order to break the nearly cutting tension was lost to her. Anything she thought of had come up empty, she didn’t know what was needed to stop the glass of pretense from shattering between them .
What could she say?
The ball was tomorrow, and gossip had spread like wildfire. The press liked her, the people of Cordonia seemed to admire her – she had done what the Beaumont brothers expected and made allies with the other women – all in all she had mass appeal. They thought she was the most likable candidate.
It should make her happy, she had wanted this at first. When they met, Liam had an indisputable charm and likeness that she couldn’t ascribe with Drake. But she knew Drake, understood him better, the more of himself he was willing to share. Late nights star-gazing and drinking had formed an unmistakable bond.
Then there was this attraction between them. The attraction that belonged inside her head until he had shown her otherwise. Now all she could think about was him, what it felt like to be with him. How happy they could make each other.
How could she explain that he was the one who captivated her heart and not Liam? How could wedge herself between the two of them, knowing that doing so would destroy them both? How could she even find the proper words to tell him, without the fear of seeing him recede back into himself?
She wet her lips once then a second time, finding the intention to speak. Nothing came out.
“If you’re looking for Liam’s room, you’ve taken too many wrong steps.” His words were cutting. It felt as if he had slapped her.
She flinched and balled her hands into fists. “I’m not an idiot Drake,” she began crisply, “I know exactly where his room is.”
“If you’re not an idiot, then what are you doing here?” He didn’t wait for her to respond, rather turned swiftly back to face the liquor cabinet. He hastily chugged a large portion of his drink. “The ball is tomorrow.”
“I know that.” She swallowed the lump inside her throat. “I couldn’t sleep,” she itched to move closer, longed to close the distance between them but he was holding himself back. His walls were up and this time she was left uncertain in tearing them down again. “And you left dinner so suddenly, I wanted to make sure you were okay-”
“Don’t make this about me.” He interjected thinly.
She froze for a moment, collecting her bearings before speaking again. “But it is about you.” She insisted, “about us –”
“Do I look okay?” His tone was sarcastic, brazen. He whirled back around to gesture angrily at himself, and the bottle of whiskey inside his hand. “Do I look okay to you, Tinsley?” He lifted one sardonic brow, daring her to say otherwise.
She winced at the harshness inside his tone. It was a rhetorical question, but one she intended on answering anyway. She wasn’t giving him the chance to shut her out, not this time. “You look like you had a bad night.” She softened her gaze, “you look like you need someone to talk to.”
The crease between his brow disappeared. “Maybe.” He seemed to be considering his next words carefully, “but I don’t think that someone should be you.”
His words hurt. “Drake,” she had expected him to be angry, to shut her out – she thought she had prepared herself for it. His stubbornness was nothing short of her own. She wasn’t going to leave him when he was obviously hurting, even if she had been apart of the reason for it. “Who else would you talk to about it all?”
He didn’t answer at first. “There’s no one else worth talking to over this.” His tone was soft, biting the surface of what she thought he felt. “Liam is out of the question,” his hands clenched. “And you don’t seem to take the hint.”
“Oh I understand your hints of wanting to be alone, but I refuse to be ignored knowing that I can do something, anything to help.” She didn’t utter the rest of what she felt out loud. Her fleeting feelings for Liam had never turned into more. Her conflicted feelings for him had never wavered, even albeit she tried to forget them.
When he didn’t answer, she shifted on her feet. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until we talk.” She found her courage again, and trudged closer even as he bristled by the distance she was rapidly closing between them. “What kind of a person would I be, if I did?”
He whirled on her then, eyes blazing so fast that stopped her in her tracks. Without another word, he advanced on her.
“Drake?” She was taken aback by the sudden shift. It wasn’t just his expression, it was the way he stalked over to her. With purpose. With a slight edge of obsession.
Just how much exactly did he drink before she had gotten here? Her eyes left his to stare at the bottle; more than half empty and the glasses of alcohol beside it.
When his hand circled her wrist, her pulse jumped. “You want to know what’s really bothering me, Riley?” He yanked her to his chest. “Why I’m here nursing whiskey instead of sleeping?”
Her pulse raced. She ignored it to jut her chin out and stared at him. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t’ want to know. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care to know.” Her voice trembled a little as he dragged a hand through her hair, loosening it’s bun until he could run his fingers freely through it.
“You. It’s you,” his eyes weren’t all angry anymore. They were amidst of things she felt.
Anger. Desire. Longing. Tenderness. It was all of those at once.
“It doesn’t matter what I do, or how much distance I try to put between us,” his voice strained. “I can’t get you out of my head. Not since that night.” He sounded frustrated, as if he tried his hardest to. “And it’s ridiculous how much I’ve tried to but I can’t. I see you no matter where I go and I’m starting to wonder –”
“- if I’m just crazy,” She finished for him, her eyes searching his. “You think if you can just go a single day without being reminded, you can forget – simply put it behind you.” At his stillness, she found the courage to keep talking. “You think you’re the only one struggling since that night?”
He was so close that she could feel his breath on her cheeks, feel his muscles stiffen and the grip on her wrist tightening. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wanted to see you,” she was rambling now, emptying all of her thoughts after realizing it was the same for him. “Struggled with wanting to see you, just to hear your voice and,” she bit her bottom lip. “To see that rare smile of yours, knowing I’m one of the few people to put it there.”
Staring into his eyes, she could see how torn he felt. His eyes weren’t being careful anymore, they were dangerously close to crossing that line. “Yet here you are,” he tucked his other hand under her chin.
“Here I am anyway.” She agreed, “I wanted to let you know I didn’t regret that night.” She took a deep breath to settle her nerves. She knew if she didn’t say what was on her mind now, she would never find another chance to. With the ball tomorrow, this was her last opportunity and maybe even regret if she never confessed, she would come to regret it for the rest of her life. “Not even a single kiss, or everywhere your hands touched. Everywhere your lips lingered.” Her cheeks grew hot, “I never wanted you to stop touching me.”
“You don’t know what your asking,” Drake’s voice had dropped on octave. His hands had traveled across her naked back, running endless circles until she shuddered.
He dipped his head low.
She inhaled his familiar scent, wanting so desperately to capture this moment. Freeze it in time. Staring inside his eyes, she watched the wheels turn. She knew without saying it, what was between them had grown. She knew when she brought her hands to gently cup his face that she was in love with this man.
The whiskey was on his breath, fanned over her flushed cheeks. She snaked her hands around his neck, her fingers scarcely touching the tiny baby hairs at the nape of his neck. “I’m sick of people telling me I don’t know what I want.” Her eyes refused to waver from his, “and I know I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want you Drake.”
He closed the distance then, lips crashing against hers with something she could only describe as raw need. She hadn’t hesitated in kissing back, only pressed herself firmly against him with absolute certainty. This was what she always wanted. What she always needed.
A moan left her throat as he scooped her up, his muscles flexing while she wrapped her legs around his waist. He wrenched his lips free, only to knock the bar counter clear of alcohol. As the bottles went flying, he sat her on the top of the smooth surface before she roughly yanked him back to her.
His lips grazed hers, darting in and out when she opened herself up to him. His name was on her tongue and with every gasp she took, he guided her lips to follow his. “Drake.” It was the only thing she could muster before his lips descended on hers again, and her hands clutched him desperately while his worked magic across her skin.
They slide under her dress, brushing the small bridge between her thighs. They grazed her lingerie, pressing firmly until she shuddered. “Oh god, lace.” He hummed in appreciation, rubbing his thumb over the smooth fabric.
“I take it you like lace?” She said between kisses. She felt a shiver of thrill wash over her as he grinned against her mouth.
“On you yes.”
Her smugness dissolved when she brought her hips to meet his wandering fingers, yearning for him to touch her.
Slowly and deliberately, he swept past the barriers of her lacey underwear. He circled two inside her, while his other hand kept her steady. “Mmmmf,” she could barely utter a semblance of anything when he touched her like this.
His lips dragged across her ear, nibbling her tender flesh before dropping by the side of neck. He left a trail of harsh kisses in his wake and suckled gently.
Her eyes slanted close and she slightly inclined her head to the opposing side, giving him better access as he bit down. He added two fingers in when she moaned. Rubbing herself against him, she wrapped her legs to keep up with his pacing. Tension built inside of her and she met his ardent fingers until he withdrew long enough to watch the pleasure unfold across her face.
She bit back a cry as she rode out her last wave, gripping the back of the counter when her toes curled up, tensing until it passed.
When she opened her eyes again, she noticed he was staring. Intently at her, and yet he hadn’t made any movements to touch her again. He kept quiet; just kept looking at her through half-hooded eyes. As if he was waiting for her to make the next move.
They could leave it here, this puzzle they have created between the two of them.
But she didn’t want to leave it here, and neither did he. Although he kept his hands off her, it was only done in confidence. He was giving her a chance to walk away. But she had no intention of walking away.
She couldn’t now that she had a better taste. Now that she craved for more. She wanted to see every part of him and finally erase all the little doubts inside her head. Without speaking, she dropped smoothly from the counter. Her dress soon followed.
She took three steps to stand in front of him. Without breaking eye contact, she reached for his shirt. Her hands quickly turned impatient, nearly tugging in desperation in getting it past his shoulders.
He kept still until he realized she was struggling with the fabric. “Let me,” he mumbled gently.
She stepped back, watching him carelessly toss it aside.
Her eyes greedily drank in the sight of him. She had seen him shirtless before, but this was different.
This was intimate, sexy – the sight alone drew a soft gasp from her.
When her fingers moved, the muscles of his abdomen quivered at her touch. She trailed kisses down his chest, taking her time in appreciating everywhere her lips touched. Every smooth plane of his skin, every soft shudder from her caresses. She stopped by the waistband of his jeans.
Watching his eyes cloud, she tugged at his pants until they fell and pooled by their feet.
She heard her name on his lips, heard him moan through clenched teeth when she took him inside her mouth. His hands went to her hair, stopping her for a moment before loosening hold as she continued her relentless torture. “Riley,” his breathing was haggard, strained.
Her tongue darted across his tip before sliding down gently along his shaft. Minutes passed like this with his hand resting inside her hair, and his thrust inside her wanton mouth.
Finally, she pulled away. A teasing smirk on her lips as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
He was breathing hard, struggling to catch his breath. She trailed kisses against his skin, up until their lips met again. Pressing his forehead against hers, he brought her into his arms.
His eyes were dark, filled with a fiery passion unbridled by her touch.
He guided her forward until her back slammed against the wall. She barely felt the contact, already too caught under his penetrating stare before he lowered his gaze to her lips. He peppered kisses along her jaw, across her lips and by the curve of her shoulders. When she brought her hands across his back, he dropped his by her waist before finally sinking into her.
Her head swam in pleasure. She swore she could hear explosions – fireworks igniting her veins and making every nerve of her come alive as they joined together.
His hands gripped her thighs until she wrapped them around his waist, pulling him closer – wanting him closer. Their hips met in quick flurry, rising to meet each other again and again with rapid need.
A desperate cry left her lips as he increased momentum. She surrendered to him, closing her eyes firmly shut as he slammed into her. Her own hips faltered until he took control, shifting to plunge deeper inside of her center.
He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the wall behind them. He bit back the sound of his moans.
Sweat glistened, slicking their bodies with heat.
The rest of him went tense as pressure built, soaking them both in pleasure. Her hands gripped him, raked across taut flesh before throwing her head back in ecstasy.
He doesn’t speak, as she came undone. Merely, tightened his grip on her hips, thrusting faster until he could join her. He bit into her shoulder, stifling his cry of pleasure when he finally grasped the blinding edge and tittered over, into an un-defining moment of bliss.
Their ragged breaths were the only sounds left inside the room as Drake braced his arms on either side of her. Their eyes met and lingered as they waited for their breathing to return normal.
Riley remained quiet as she tried to play catch up with the rest of her body, still tingling from moments ago. Suddenly she felt him shifting, until he was holding her tightly inside his arms.
Warmth blossomed her chest. His touch was soothing, familiar and she closed her eyes.
They stayed like this for awhile. She listened to the sound of their own hearts, beating in sync with one another as if they were a single entity.
Eventually, he spoke.
“Don’t go to the ball.” He whispered into her ear.
“Drake…” Her tone was soft, nearly breaking. “You know I have to.”
Pressing his lips, he planted a soft kiss before burying his face inside her neck. “I know,” his body stiffened until he regretfully dropped his hands to his sides. “It’s just for a moment -”
“- you forgot everything.” She finished for him, hugging herself and forcing a smile.
The competition hadn’t existed when they were alone like this. She hadn’t thought of it. Nothing else had really mattered. It was simply just the two of them, existing in an island of their own. A place of simplicity, where they could forget how complicated their lives were.
When she was in the safety of his arms, she simply forgot too.
She reached up on her toes then, brushing back his disheveled hair to give him a sad smile. She placed a small kiss by his lips, already realizing their time together was nearly at its end.
She still had so much to say, but for now this had been enough. “I forgot too.”
–