The heavy oak door rattled under the force of the knock.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Derek groaned, a low, frustrated sound that vibrated in his chest. He ignored the door. He ignored the world outside. He ignored the duty that was calling his name. His hands were busy fumbling with the fastenings of his trousers, trying to free himself, trying to stay in the moment with Marissa. He wanted to be back in the bed, back in the warmth, back in her arms.
"Your Grace," Ian's voice called again, muffled by the thick wood but clear enough to ruin the mood. "I am sorry if I am disturbing anything... but it is urgent."
Derek closed his eyes and hissed through his teeth. He rested his forehead against Marissa's, his breathing ragged and uneven.
He could feel her heart beating against his chest, a rhythm he wanted to get lost in.
"When he's tired," Derek muttered against her skin, his voice thick with desire and annoyance, "he'll leave. He knows better than to stand there all night."
