Page 53 of Queen's Ransom

“This is already my family. We lost Chris for ten years. Not letting that happen again.”

Hands on her waist, Helena tugged her closer even as she offered her a final out. “But you don’t have to be this close.”

Celia closed the rest of the distance between them and draped her arms over Helena’s shoulders. “I don’t have to be, but I want to be. But, Helena, no more pushing me away. My mental health can’t handle that, not after Dex, and frankly, I shouldn’t have to, not if this is going to be a real partnership.”

“I want that too, and I’m willing to work for it, including therapy if we need it. Hell, I probably need it.” She flitted a hand in the general direction of her head. “There’s a lot up here I’ve ignored for too long.” Her parents’ death, her grandmother’s and Amelia’s betrayals, the mounting stress of her everyday juggling act. Oak had a point the other day, though Helena suspected some of her stress might ease with Celia to come home to at night.

Celia softly kissed her forehead. “I’ll get you the name of someone.”

“Thank you, and I am sorry for icing you out, Cee.” She glanced up through her lashes. “I tried to apologize yesterday, but someone hauled off and kissed me.”

“I’m not sorry about that,” Celia said with a shrug.

“Figured not, but I am about the way I treated you. I was just trying to protect you, but I realize that’s your call. I’m sorry for not letting you make it.”

“The safest place for me and my family is right here with you and yours. You and your brothers have made sure of that in a dozen different ways. Don’t throw all that work away. And trust that you’ve made me strong enough to protect myself too.”

Helena clasped her hands behind Celia’s waist, holding tight. “Might take a little practice.”

Celia chuckled and pecked her lips. “Expected it might. I want to keep practicing too.”

“Count on it.” Helena drew her in for a longer, lingering kiss. “More practicing this too. You all done in here?”

Celia smiled against her lips. “Yep.”

Helena slid off the stool, flush against Celia’s body, exactly where she’d wanted to be the past twenty-four hours. Longer than that. And she was done waiting, the building ache between her legs demanding relief. “Let’s go practice.”

They wandered out of the kitchen, hand in hand, but when Celia moved to go upstairs, Helena directed her the opposite direction. “Somewhere else I’ve been fantasizing about.”

An even brighter blush streaked across Celia’s cheeks. “But there’s no door. Anyone could—”

Helena smirked. “There are still some tricks to this house you Perris don’t know yet.” She shooed the cats toward the living room to harass the guys and led Celia down the stairs to the home gym. They rounded the corner, and Celia gasped.

“Helena, what—

“My fantasy and your fantasy.” And totally worth the effort of squirreling away sheets and votive candles, and keeping everyone out of the gym today, so she could see the soft candlelight reflected off Celia’s enchanted and surprised face. She jostled Celia loose from her shock, moved her fully inside the room, and flipped up the light panel, revealing the keypad underneath. She entered the test code—not wanting the rest of the house to lockdown—and the crenellations on either side of the open doorway folded back. A steel pocket door slid out, completely blocking the entrance.

Celia stumbled back. “What the hell?”

“Panic room.”

Celia surveyed the space anew, as if looking past the two dozen candles and cotton-sheet covered mats. A smile spread across her face, realization dawning. “A panic room with all your weapons.”

“Precisely.” Helena closed the panel and guided Celia onto the mats. “We’re also at least a floor below our family, in what amounts to an insulated bunker.” She grabbed the hem of her own shirt and removed it, tossing it into the corner. Celia’s hot stare raked across her chest, and Helena hoped she liked how the spreading blush looked against the lavender shelf bra she’d put on for the occasion. She moved into Celia’s space, wanting her to feel the radiating heat and desire, wanting her to know how much she was wanted. Helena swept her hands under the back of Celia’s shirt and kissed a path up her neck to her ear. “I want to hear you scream.”

Celia shivered in her arms but recovered quickly, dipping her hands inside the back of Helena’s pants and over her satin underwear, the cool fabric and light friction delicious against Helena’s skin. “Thank you for this,” Celia said. “In case I’m too hoarse from screaming to tell you later.”

“Fuck, Cee, now you’ve gone and done it.” She nipped Celia’s ear then drew back, stripping the shirt off over Celia’s head and revealing a sexy red lace number. Her dark hair fell around her shoulders, tousled and wild, stealing Helena’s breath. She was so fucking beautiful, body and soul, and Helena was so fucking lucky to get a shot with her. She lowered onto her knees, ready to worship, and as she pulled Celia’s pajama bottoms down, exposing a matching red lace thong, Helena’s mouth watered. She hooked her thumbs in either side of Celia’s barely there underwear. “You always wear such sexy things under your clothes.”

“Just ’cause there’s grease under my fingernails doesn’t mean I don’t also like pretty things.” She trailed a finger over the lacy edge of one of her bra cups. “Dex thought lingerie was a waste of money, but it was something for me.”

Helena leaned forward, nuzzling the baby soft skin below Celia’s belly button. “You’re next birthday…” She nipped along the top lacy edge of the thong. “We’ll fly to London and Paris. Buy you a whole fucking trunkful.”

“I’d like that,” Celia said, breathy and rough, and Helena couldn’t resist dragging her thumbs down the outer edges of the thong, swiping them under the narrowing fabric, finding Celia wet for her. A hand tangled in Helena’s hair. “Would also like to see the rest of what you put on for me.”

She swiped her thumbs over Celia’s damp lips once more, barely resisting the urge to pull them apart and torture Celia’s clit with her tongue through the lace. That would come, so would Celia, but first, she’d do whatever Celia asked. She stood, peeled her pants off, and righted herself to find Celia’s gaze positively ravenous. “Are they all pastels?” she asked as she trailed her fingers over the swells of Helena’s tits.

“I needed to keep something light close to me,” she confessed. She had to be smarter and deadlier than everyone, but this part of her could be soft without giving away any weakness. Except to Celia. “But now I have you.”

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