Vane had Ren pinned against the mahogany paneling of the main corridor, just a few feet from the grand staircase. His hands were tangled in the gossamer silk of Ren's wedding cape, pulling the younger man so close there wasn't a breath of air between them. The kiss was desperate and messy, fueled by the twenty-four hours of forced separation and the adrenaline of the ceremony.
Vane's mouth moved over Ren's with a hunger that was almost feral, his fingers tracing the line of Ren's jaw as if to reassure himself that this was real—that the masterpiece was finally, legally, his.
"Vane... the car... we're going to be late," Ren gasped against Vane's lips, though his own hands were busy bunching up the fabric of Vane's suit jacket, pulling him tighter.
"Let them wait," Vane growled, his teeth grazing Ren's lower lip. "The world waits for us now, Ren. Not the other way around."
"Ahem."
The sharp, dry sound of a throat clearing broke the heavy tension.
Ren jumped, his face instantly turning a shade of red that rivaled the roses in the ballroom. He tried to push Vane away, but Vane didn't budge. He simply turned his head, his arm still locked around Ren's waist, to glare at Julian, who was standing at the top of the stairs with his arms crossed.
"Don't you guys feel for the single?" Julian asked, a crooked, teasing smirk on his face.
"Do I really have to see this in my own house? I'm trying to go to the kitchen for a sandwich, not witness a sequel to the honeymoon."
Ren hid his face in Vane's shoulder, his ears burning. "Julian! We were just... leaving."
"Clearly," Julian chuckled, leaning against the railing. "Go. Before my father decides to mark you right here in the hallway and I have to call the decorators again."
Vane didn't look embarrassed in the slightest. He looked Julian dead in the eye and gave a sharp, proprietary peck to Ren's swollen lips, loud enough for it to echo.
"Get your own Consort, Julian," Vane remarked, his voice smooth and unapologetic. He turned back to Ren, his expression softening into that terrifyingly tender look he reserved only for him. "Come, my darling. Let's go on our beautiful honeymoon. I don't want to let you rest—you're all mine now."
Ren let out a soft, breathless laugh as Vane led him toward the door, his hand never leaving the small of Ren's back. "Have you ever let me rest, Vane?" Ren countered, his sass returning as he regained his composure. "I think 'rest' was removed from my vocabulary the day I met you."
"Good," Vane whispered, leaning down to nip at Ren's ear. "Because I have plans for every hour of the next fourteen days."
Elias stood by the heavy oak doors, holding them open as the couple passed through into the cool night air. He watched as Vane personally opened the car door for Ren—a gesture of chivalry that would have been unthinkable for the Vane Blackwood of a year ago. He watched the way Vane's eyes never strayed from Ren, even as he climbed in beside him.
As the taillights of the SUV disappeared down the long, winding drive, Elias let out a slow, measured breath. He smoothed the front of his vest and shook his head, a ghost of a smile touching his professional mask.
"My boss is now a whipped man," Elias said softly to the empty hall, his voice filled with a rare, quiet wonder. "Unbelievable what love can do to a monster."
Inside the car, the glass partition was already up, and Vane was already reaching for Ren in the dark, his heart beating with the rhythm of a man who had finally found his home.