with my wife was the ultimate fantasy.
And I wasn’t finished with her yet.
Chapter Thirteen
SULLY STAYED TRUE TO his word.
He had the perfect playground. The entire jungle was his domain and dynasty. Taking me by the hand, he led me from the treehouse, down animal tracks in dense foliage, through a crystal clear stream complete with tadpoles and a family of leopard cubs playing in the grasses, to a cave almost entirely covered by lichen and low hanging jasmine vines.
Keeping our fingers entwined, we explored the dark tomb and travelled deeper into the earth’s belly until no natural light encroached and the fairy-tale sparkle of glow-worms pinpricked the blackness.
There, he took me over a moss-covered rock.
Got on his knees and spread me over his lap.
And kissed me for hours as we slowly grew drowsy from our lovemaking.
I had no idea how much time had passed—whether it was dawn in Hawksridge Hall or if we still had hours before the Hawks expected us to join them for breakfast, but our time in this place would always be remembered as one of the best times in Euphoria we’d shared.
Not because it’d been the most erotic but because we were both so at home here.
So at peace watching parrots of all colours, monkeys of all shapes, and the shadows of elephants slinking on the horizon as we left the cave and strolled under stars that mimicked the glow-worms we’d just left behind.
So much life all around us—the reminder that no matter where we were or what form we currently inhabited, we were all connected in some way—virtual or real.
Sully stopped me as we broke the jungle and stood on a savannah with giraffes in the distance and a pride of lions growling at the crescent moon. I looked at my husband as he slowly stroked my wrist, his fingers hovering over the patch of skin that would terminate this illusion.
After his previous renditions of Euphoria, with the absolute entrapment of a person’s mental faculties until they fell asleep, he’d updated the code and added a way out without having to be unconscious.
I shivered as he brought my hand up and kissed the area on my wrist. “Ready to go back?”
“Not really.”
His head tipped up, a lazy smile on his gorgeous face. “Aren’t you tired?” He chuckled. “I admit, I need to rest so I’m not a grumpy bastard at breakfast or a gloating asshole for having the best wife a man could hope for.”
“I’m pretty sure Jethro would argue that he has the best wife. Everyone thinks they have the best.”
“And they do. Because it’s true...to them.” He straightened, pressing a simple kiss to my cheek. “But you’re still the best out of anyone.”
I laughed quietly, freezing as a giraffe stopped munching on a tree and threw a spooked look our way. “You’re such a charmer.”
“And you’re a witch. There’s no other explanation for how much I adore you.” Pinching the skin of my wrist, he smiled gently. “See you back at Hawksridge Hall, Eleanor.”
I held my breath as the illusion switched from solid and true, to hazy and obscured by smoke. The firmness of soil beneath my bare feet faded. The wonder of a tropical jungle was suddenly gone. Everything vanished, leaving me in a world of white before a quick hiss of static and the sharp bump of reality deposited me back into England and the impressive history-rich suite we’d been given.
I gasped as embroidered carpets replaced dirt and an instant chill found me as I stood naked at the foot of the bed, the bathrobe belt still latched around my ankle, keeping me tied to the four-poster.
Sully stood beside me, his fingers pinching his own wrist. His eyes still saw the virtual world I’d just left, but a few breaths later with a full-body jolt, he joined me in England. Blinking away our fantasy and giving me a sexy smirk, he murmured, “At least we’re still in the room and not on the lawn.”
I smiled. “I can imagine that would’ve earned a few side-eyes at breakfast.”
Stepping into me, he wrapped his arms tight around me, granting me much-needed body heat. “You’re cold. Let’s get into bed.” Kissing me, he let me go before ducking to untie me. His eyes feasted on my nakedness as he freed me. “You have bruises.” Touching the finger shadows on my hips, he bit his bottom lip. “I didn’t mean—”
“Bruises are a symbol of a great night together.” I captured his hand, holding it against my