Oaklyn.

Chapter 69.

Caiden

Oaklyn had panicked all morning about meeting my grandmother, despite my reassurance that she didn't need to.

She had chosed a simple pleated dress, the material greys and creams. The dress highlighted her mouthwatering features, but didn't flaunt them.

"What if she thinks I'm a slut?" She questioned, cracking her knuckles as she paced in front of me.

I tried to hide my grin, my eyes skipping over her once more.
God, she looked so fucking good.

Her perfume smelt as good as she looked, the bottle pink and identified as Miss Dior.

"She knows you're my girlfriend, Amore, (love). If she thought I was bringing a measly whore to her, I'd lose my head," I chuckled, making her shoot me a foul look.

"Was that supposed to be comforting?" She questioned, sliding her hands over the skirt of her dress, falling to her midthigh before exposing the rest of her tanned legs.

"You look so pretty," I commented, not meaning to even say it outloud as I lost myself to her.

She hesitated, glancing over at me in the mirror.

"Promise?" She questioned, biting her plump lip nervously.

I stood, wrapping my arms around her waist and dragged her into me. Pressing my mouth to hers, my tongue slid into her mouth, my left hand rubbing over her plump ass, earning a soft whine of pleasure to escape her.

Eventually, I pulled back, resting my forehead to hers and stared into her eyes.
"I'd never lie to you. I promise, it will go well."

It took her a few moments before she nodded, pressing another kiss to my mouth before pulling away completely and began picking out her shoes.

***

The size of my Grandmother's château probably did not help ease Oaklyn's nerves upon arrival. My grandmother lived outside of Paris, despite loving the Capital, she had an appreciation for nature.

The building itself was tall and old fashioned, the grounds surrounding were green and well kept, flowers blooming in the heat of Summer.

You were hit with the sweet smell of lavander and roses almost immediately, which seemed to calm Oaklyn slightly as she graciously took the arm I offered her, mainly to steady her.
"Just remember to breathe, be yourself, and you'll be fine," I muttered into her ear, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. In return, she shot me a warm smile and a quick nod, her eyes scanning all over the flowers and beautiful exterior.

I didn't even have to knock before the large doors opened, the housekeeper, whose name I came to learn was Yvette, welcomed us with a large smile.

"Mr Fulton, Miss Santidore! Miss Fulton is expecting you in the conservatory," She quickly explained, her French accent strong despite speaking in English. I shot a quick glance at Oaklyn, who looked ready to melt into the floor rather than be led by the woman infront of us.

"Thank you, Yvette," I answered smoothly, a flush creeping up her neck as she quickly scanned over me before she nodded, gesturing for us to come inside.

I carefully led Oaklyn through the halls as she looked over the interior of the old house, mesmerised by pretty much everything.
With good reason.

Everything was a work of art in the house, down to the detailed, marble flooring, to the carvings into the stone pillars and staircase railings, the grand chandeliers and ceiling paintings.

I watched Oaklyn's face twist with happiness as we ventured further into the house, eventually pulling her to a stop as Yvette announced our presence to my grandmother.