Royally Bounded

Chapter 137

Warning: This chapter contains 18+ scenes.

Hayden

"No wonder they say Paris is a romantic city," Clara smiled. Her eyes stared out at the city lights, and even in the dark, the blueness of her eyes shined the brightest. The dimness contrasted with the beauty of her face. Nothing could fucking be as beautiful as Clara was.

"I love you," I muttered, kissing her temple. My arms locked around her waist from behind, pulling her to my chest closely.

"I love you more."

Clara and I stood out in the balcony and watched the streets of Paris, hearing the cars passing by and the people talking. Standing here in front of the city was her dream, and mine was spending every minute with her. I didn't care what fucking view was in front of me.

The room service came, and we seated outside the balcony for dinner. She was across from me, swirling her glass wine before we clinked our glasses. I took a sip of my wine as my eyes drew over to her lips that were pressed to the edge of the glass. Her lipstick left a stain.

"Cheers to us," she said happily. "Our late honeymoon after six years."

I rolled my eyes at her comment, placing the glass down onto the table. "A honeymoon doesn't need to be right after a couple marries."

"That's true. We still have date nights after two kids."

I reached in for her plate, cutting the steak into pieces for her as she continued to talk.

"I wonder how Damien and Xander are doing. I miss them," she told me. Her arms rested on the surface of the table.

"Can you stop thinking about them for once?" I grumbled, annoyed at how she kept disrupting our time about our sons. "It's our honeymoon."

She laughed at my jealousy and shook her head. "Yes, King Hayden."

It's been a few days since we arrived in Paris. We were spending our final night here before we leave for Venice tomorrow. In the morning, Clara and I went out to visit the different places. When we came back, we were fucking like crazy in our hotel room.

"The Bridge of Sighs," Clara showed me a picture as I removed our plates. "I'm exciting to see what the city is like on the boat. I wish you can you row it instead."

"No, Clara," I snorted. "Unless you want to drown."

"You're not going to let me drown in the water. You can swim, remember?"

I narrowed my eyes at Clara, and she sent me a wink, seductively drinking her wine. I ran my tongue across my lips, allowing my eyes raking down from her neck to her chest. The sweet body in that tight little dress. She was killing me.

"Why are you smelling the wine?" I cocked my brow, staring at Clara who lowered her nose to the edge of the glass.

"I never understand how people can differentiate wine that easily," Clara replied. "I'm not an expert, but my father is really good at it. I see him take a smell before he drinks it. You like to swirl it instead."

"Your mother never taught you?"

"My mother pretends to be an expert. I remember when she almost embarrassed my father once when they were newly married. They were at a family gathering event, and when she heard my father said the wine is fruity, she thought they were must be made from fruits."

She giggled, and I let out a cold scoff. I held the base of the glass. "Wine tasting is about the four S. Swirl. Sniff. Sip. Spit or Swallow."

"Spit? Where do you spit the wine?"