SCANDAL | Andrei Dacre (ALT/REMAKE)

The heavy oak door to the master bedroom swung shut as Andrei stepped inside, fingers already tugging his necktie loose. His other hand was still clenched around his suit jacket that he tugged off the second he stepped foot into his estate, hadn’t even yet put it down on the sofa across the bed before the smell hit him. That familiar scent of jasmine that he knew all too well, cloying and overwhelming to the point it gave him a headache. Not her. Not right fucking now.

He’d already had a shit day at work, having been in a meeting with the king’s war council for the past 4 damn hours. He tossed his keys onto the dresser beside him, a small groan escaping his lips before some movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention. Her. Stepping out from the grande en-suite bathroom, Adalia was adorned in a lace-trimmed violet negligee and a black fluffy robe trailing behind her feet.

Great. Seems not even home is safe. He hissed internally, his jaw twitching at the sight of her attempting.. to what? Look hot? Pathetic. Everything about it screamed desperation; hair done way too “perfectly” for 9 pm, face painted with the similar effort she did for galas, and lighting hitting her silhouette with far too much planning to be accidental.

“Dre, I.. I thought we could, y’know, talk? Properly?” She suddenly spoke, her feet gliding across the wooden floor and coming far too close for comfort right now. “Don’t call me that.” Andrei suddenly spoke, voice icy and disinterested as he looked down at her with indifference, if anything with annoyance.

She froze, caught off guard for a moment before stepping closer, her hands hesitating before reaching out to grasp his wrist. An action he swiftly avoided by yanking his arm away, a glare finally forming in his eyes. “The fuck even is this?” He snapped, tugging his tie completely off before tossing it aside haphazardly next to his jacket. “You think target lingerie will make me change my mind or something?”

Her lips quivered, watching as he aggressively undid his cuff links with his back turned towards her. Her hands, unsure and nervous, fluttered over her outfit, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles. "I just thought...after your long day...we could-" Andrei cut her off with bark of laughter, malicious in nature as he turned his head to look over his shoulder at her.

“Thought what? That this get-up was enough to make me stay?” He hissed, turning completely to loom over her, arm reaching out to grab her bicep and shove her towards the walk-in closet.“Put some clothes on before the staff confuse you for a streetwalker that even they could afford.” He watched her face crumple, her gasp of hurt music to his ears yet his face remained irritated.

He scrubbed a hand down his face, callouses scratching against his skin before he turned and stalked out of the room. Rather be in any other place but near this woman. His fingers were swift, deftly finishing unbuttoning the first 2 buttons of his dress shirt by the time he reached his study, the door clicking shut behind him with a finality.

Andrei let out a heavy groan as he practically collapsed onto his chair, mahogany wood creaking under his weight. His eyes scanned the tidy paperwork stacked in front of him before drifting to the window across from him. Fuck it, hadn’t seen you in days. He reasoned as he fished his phone out of his back pocket, fingers instinctively tapping to your contact name.

He reminisced on the last hang out, the first thing that popped up when he clicked on your shared message dms was about how much fun you’d had horseback riding with him. A smirk cracked his lips, his free hand reaching over to the crystal decanter and poured himself 3 fingers of 18-year-old Macallan, the amber liquid trembling in the glass as he scrolled through the messages before inevitably deciding to send one.

9:47 PM.

Andrei: “You up?”

Andrei: “Got shit to vent about. This woman is gonna drive me bat shit insane.”

Andrei: “[Attachment: 1 Image - half-empty glass of Macallan 25 pressed against his lips, annoyed look on his face that is absolutely dramatized for your amusement.]

Andrei: “Think you’re free to come out? I’ll kick Adalia out of my place or we can go to any of my other estates. Your pick, sweetheart.”

The car was feeling heated, the air getting musky with the scent of two lovers doing shit they’re not supposed to be doing. Andrei couldn’t care less about the slow whirling sound of the partition window rolling up slowly but surely—oh, I feel bad for the poor bastard driving this fucking car.

His hands were everywhere he could get them; around your waist, gripping your thighs, in your hair, fuck, even down your pants. He couldn’t get enough. Not with the way your skin tasted on his lips, the way his ragged breaths muffling against your neck made it all the more intense.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to get you in my bed, sweetheart.” His words were like gravel, rough and heavy with every unsaid word he’d die to voice aloud. Andrei’s breath was hot against your ear, his teeth moving to nip at the cartilage in a teasing fashion, chuckling at the feel of your subtle flinch. “Been ages since I had you like this..”

His cock was hard against his black trousers, his deep blue shirt ruffled and halfway untucked. God, he even felt like a mess. Couldn’t bring himself to care though. Not with the way you looked with your flushed cheeks and the airy breaths you were taking alongside his were filling up every spot in his brain. Like a drug he couldn’t bring himself to stop taking—utterly addicted to the point it no longer terrified him like it did when he was just a kid.

The rest of the car ride to Andrei’s lakeside estate was filled with grabby hands and even needier lips. Gosh, he was on the brink of just saying fuck it and taking you right there in the backseat with how desperate he was getting. Brought here because there’s not a soul to interrupt him or you. Fuckin’ perfect..

He nearly stumbled over his own two feet when trying to get out of the car, his laughter deep and husky as he tugged you out along with him. He didn’t even want you fucking walking, his arms automatically moving to wrap around your waist and hike your legs over his hips. He fumbled with the key and the door with his free hand, pushing it open and walking through it the second it unlocked.

When the door slammed shut? Oh, your back was being pressed against the wall with his thigh between yours, rubbing upward against your crotch with a smirk wide on his lips. “Can’t wait to taste you, baby.” He murmured into your ear as he tugged off your top to grab at your bare skin.

After a few moments of licks, bites, and kisses, he finally pulled back for just long enough to unbutton his trousers and shirt, yanking them off with a sense of impatience and urgency. Like he was frustrated by the simple barriers of clothing. He dropped onto his knees in front of you, in nothing but a white tank top and black boxers, his hands moving to grip your thighs.

He licked a trail up from the v-line of your crotch all the way up to your chest, grinning at the sensation of your shivers. “Bed? Or you fine with me taking you right here? Whatever you want, sweetheart, it’s all yours..” He murmured into your ear before nipping at it, his palms resting on your waist as he fought to rut against you like some untamed mutt.

Andrei leaned back against his leather office chair, the midday sun streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office, casting a warm glow that depicted his current mood. Just thinking about his later plans has kept his mind occupied, far from his usual irritated mood that he’s grown accustomed to. His polished boots rested atop his mahogany desk, scattering paperwork as he thumbs through equestrian magazines, already imagining how you’d look sitting tucked between him and the neck of his stallion. A half-smoked cigar rests in the crystal ashtray beside a paper photo of you tucked discreetly behind his gold-plated pen holder.

Hidden away from prying eyes, discreet yet noticeable to those that knew just where to look. Like him. His eyes kept flickering over to it, until he couldn’t resist grabbing it and running his thumb along the smooth image, biting his lip to cover up a smirk. The buzz of his work intercom startled him, him quickly tucking the image back in its rightful spot to check it.

He was swift to pick the magazine back up from off the desk, the words of his secretary nearly going in one ear and out the other. “General Dacre? Your 3pm with Colonel Varga just canceled." Thank fuck, those meetings go on far too long for a day like this. "Good." He feigned nonchalance, not looking up from circling a glossy photo of dressage saddles. "Hold all calls. And have the Mercedes ready to drive by 4."

He didn’t even make it 30 minutes without another interruption, the door to his office creaking open like a child checking to see if daddy was still angry and drinking away his rage. Adalia stood at the threshold, her fingers delicately gripping the doorframe as she poked her head inside, instantly irritating Andrei like clockwork due to her overly sweet perfume that he’s banned from the bedroom filling the room like mustard gas.

“Darling? The Winter Gala committee called—" She didn’t even get to say a full sentence before Andrei rudely cut her off, dismissive in all aspects now that you’ve come back into his life. "Not going." He doesn't glance up, sketching notes about trail routes in the margin of a classified operations report. Doodling. He was doodling on important documents like a choir boy writing out love ballads on the backs of their church homework.

"But your mother—" His pen snaps, irritation overriding logic, overriding the notion that he’s supposed to have some semblance of restraint and control towards women, especially the one who’s—albeit begrudgingly—his wife. "What part of 'not going' requires translation, Adalia?" He sighed, finally looking up at her, his pen bleeding out ink onto his fingers to which he quickly wiped off with a handkerchief, ice-blue eyes sharp enough to draw blood. "Wear the emerald necklace if you're so desperate to play dutiful wife. Now get out."

He could see the tremble of her hands from how hard they clutched the hem of her skirts, could see the faint quiver of Adalia’s lip, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Instead he turned his gaze back towards the half assed sketch of his planned trail, picking up a fresh pen to continue it as the door clicked shut as Adalia finally left his presence.

The next hour and a half waiting for the clock to strike 4 pm was like agony. He felt like a little boy who was promised to attend his favored theme park and see his favorite super hero after 4 years of being told ‘no’ but had to wait until he got out of school to finally head on down the road. He had to physically restrain himself multiple times from picking up his phone and spam texting you, too overeager to show off his prized collection of pure thorough breds.

2 hours later, Andrei was guiding his black Mercedes G-Wagon down a dirt road lined with white fences. His riding gloves were resting on the console between you and him, the scent of his expensive cologne mixing with your own scents. He drove one-handed, the other casually draped over the back of your seat, fingertips brushing your shoulder as if trying to play cool. As if his heart was pounding in his chest just from being close to you again like this.

Fuck, even after months of having you, I still couldn’t help myself but act like some middle schooler with a die hard crush..

"Remember that mangy pony at the county fair?" He chuckled, suddenly breaking the calm silence as he steered past rolling pastures where his prized thoroughbreds graze. "Fucker bit my jacket. Nearly got us banned for ‘messing with the horses’." He snorted, as if remembering just how absurd it was even now when he’s far older than before.

The car crested a hill revealing the main stable complex - sleek modern architecture contrasting with rustic charm. Stable hands snapped to attention as Andrei killed the engine, his gaze immediately turning back towards you the moment it was safe to do so.

"None of that half-starved carnival shit here," he murmured before popping open his car door, rounding the hood to open your own door. "Wait til you see Max." He smirked, hand outstretched to help you out before allowing his hand to linger at the small of your back as they approach the stables.

Inside the immaculate barn, a massive white Boulonnais stallion stamps in his stall, neighing and nickering in greeting to see his owner has returned. Andrei grabbed a sugar cube from a nearby stable hand, feeding it to the horse with a rough scratch behind its ears. "Meet Maximilian. Only creature on this planet I tolerate besides you." He smirks, holding back a laugh that was sure to prove just how boyish he could truly be when around you. He was already pulling down custom riding gear from the tack room; supple leather boots, a fitted riding jacket, when you got yourself distracted by Max.

“Bought stuff specifically just for you, y’know.” He revealed, holding out the equipment that was in colors he knew you liked. “Remembered your favorite color even after all these years.” He boyishly smiled, he looked less like a military general and more like some normal stable boy whenever he was like this. “Cmon, let me help you into it.”