“I’m glad you like them because they’re your friends now as well.” Drawing her close, he looked down into her incomparable eyes. “You can trust them, Garrity included. His bark is worse than his bite, and having known him for years, I can attest that he is a man of honor, albeit in his own fashion.”
“I can’t believe how generous everyone has been. How willing to help,” Bea mused. “The people you know…they are very different from the ones in my past.”
Seeing the shadows in her gaze, he tipped her chin up. “You’re safe, angel. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“Sometimes it scares me how easily I’ve let down my guard with you,” she said tremulously. “Being back here in London reminds me that I haven’t depended on anyone for a long time. Not since my accident.”
In her admission, he heard heartbreak and hope. He knew, then and there, that he would happily spend the rest of his life proving to her that he was worthy of her trust. That he was worthy ofher.
“Trusting someone and becoming dependent upon them are two different things.” He traced the slant of her cheekbone with his thumb, feeling her shiver when he grazed over her scar. “You can lean on someone without losing your independence. You can count on me and still be the strong, fearless lady of Camden Manor.”
As he spoke, he felt a tightening in his chest, a mounting unease about the difficulty of his quest. He was determined to protect Beatrice and her land; at the same time, he had his obligation to GLNR and his partners. Garrity could be a cutthroat bastard, but he was never a liar. Privately, Kent had filled Wick in on how rife with tension the meeting with the shareholders had been, increasing Wick’s concern…and guilt.
People had invested their life savings in GLNR. His partners had trusted him to negotiate the most important deal in their company’s history. Garrity, in particular, had taken a risk bringing Wick on as a partner, and Wick could not—wouldnot—repay the other’s faith and years of mentorship with failure.
“Your surveyor will be arriving at the estate soon, will he not?” Beatrice asked.
As usual, she showed an uncanny ability to read his thoughts.
“Norton’s latest missive said that he and his team should arrive by tomorrow.” Not wanting to add to her worries, he said, “Norton is an expert in the field; he’ll figure out a solution. We should direct our energies toward what we can accomplish here in London.”
“We do have a full day ahead of us,” she agreed. “Let’s enjoy ourselves for the rest of the evening.”
“What did you have in mind?”
She fiddled with the lapel of his dressing gown. “I wouldn’t mind a repeat of what you showed me in the carriage the other day.”
“I knew you’d like that position. And it’s even better with the absence of clothing.”
He casually removed his only garment, showing her the impact she had on him. His erection bobbed beneath its own weight, his stones taut and heavy with seed. He cocked a brow at her. Blushing but obviously game, she followed his lead, pulling the chemise over her head. Her femininity never failed to affect him. His cock surged even higher, aiming at her tender blonde furrow.
He fitted his hands to her narrow waist, lifting her onto his bed. Standing between her splayed thighs, he cupped her jaw with both hands and kissed her. He took his time, dipping his tongue into her sweetness, swirling inside. She answered him with dainty parries, the soft, silky strokes making his prick jerk with envy for that decadent caress.
“Last time when you rode me, I didn’t get to watch these pretty tits bounce.” He thumbed her budded nipples. “I’m looking forward to it this time.”
Her eyes turned smoky. “Shall we get on with it, then?”
“Greedy lass,” he said with appreciation. “All right, time for your next riding lesson.”
He climbed into bed, lying on his back with his head propped up on the pillows.
He crooked a finger at her. “Climb on.”
She did, with such eagerness that he had to smother a grin. He adored her honest, generous passion…as much as he adored showing her the many variations of desire.
He clamped his hands on her hips, and she almost seduced him from his purpose when she rubbed her cunny against his turgid shaft. At the kiss of her dewy cleft, he nearly abandoned his plan in favor of sheathing himself inside her ready little passage. Instead, he tightened his hold on her hips and dragged her upward along his body until he had her where he wanted her: with her knees clasping his head, her sex hovering over his mouth.
“What are you…oh heavens,” she gasped.
He finished running his tongue along her plump, pink seam. Christ, she was delicious.
“Hold onto the headboard,” he instructed. “Ride my mouth, angel.”
He steered her hips, moving her over his lips as he delved into her honeypot. Her sweetness coated his tongue. As was characteristic of his lass, once she lost her initial hesitation over a new activity, she threw herself in fully. Soon she was riding him like a contestant in the Derby, rocking herself over his lips, rubbing her bold little nub against his tongue. He ate her pussy until she came, her nectar pouring into his mouth, making him starved for more.
He pulled her off his face and over his cock. He fitted himself to her hole, watching her expression as he thrust his hips up while pulling hers down. He groaned at the decadent constriction.
“Oh, Wick, you’re so…big.” Since her gaze was sultry and her sheath clutching him with demanding insistence, he didn’t think she was complaining.
