Regretting the Wife He Threw Away

Chapter 78

10: Gage.

Of all the atrocious shit I've done since my father died-vandalizing cars, getting into drunken brawls-the thoughts I'm having right now are by far the worst.

I stand above Stella while she spreads the blanket out on the sand. Her skirt is in tatters in my car, so she's wearing nChapter 611

Nortia, Marblecliff International Airport.

The private jet touched down, engines humming as it taxied to a stop. When the cabin door opened, a flight attendant carefully guided Briony Kensington down the steps.

Briony's eyes were sightless, taking in nothing of the bright, unfamiliar world

around her. All she could feel was the thick, humid air pressing against her skin- a reminder that days in this tropical country were always oppressively warm.

Waiting on the tarmac was Gifford, here on behalf of Ferdinand Ellsworth. He watched as the flight attendant helped Briony into the car, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Gifford slid behind the wheel. The drive began in silence-Briony was calm, her expression unreadable.

Every so often, Gifford glanced at her through the rearview mirror, half-expecting signs of distress or resistance. But Briony sat quietly, not a trace of fear or anger on her face. As Ferdinand's most trusted aide, Gifford knew exactly what his employer had put Briony through. Her composure surprised him.

The ride to Sanctonia Private Estate took nearly forty minutes. Briony, worn out and pale, gradually drifted off in the back seat, her head slumping gently against the upholstery.

They finally arrived. The car rolled through the gates and into the manicured grounds. Gifford parked, stepped out, and opened the door.

"We're here, Ms. Kensington," he announced.

Briony stirred, rubbing her temples as she woke. Her hands reached out, feeling for the edge of the door. She steadied herself and carefully stepped out, moving with the caution of someone who could no longer trust their own senses.

Gifford hovered nearby, his hands raised protectively, careful not to touch her. If Ferdinand saw him lay a hand on her, there would be hell to pay.

As soon as Briony found her balance, hurried footsteps approached from ahead.

"Ms. Kensington, let me help you!" Belinda's voice called out, warm but a little breathless.

Briony nodded, her tone reserved. "Thank you."

Belinda gently took her arm, guiding her inside the house.

They had barely crossed into the living room when Mary came down the stairs, her eyes wide in surprise.

"Briony!" she exclaimed, hurrying over to look her up and down. "What happened? Why are you back so soon?"

Briony's face was calm, almost numb. "I don't want to end up a cripple."

Mary froze at that. After a moment, she lowered her voice. "Isn't there anyone else who can help you?"

Briony shook her head, her

expression empty. "No. I've lost both my sight and my sense of taste. The doctors say I was poisoned-and it was Ferdinand's own concoction. Only he knows how to cure me."

Mary's breath caught in her throat.

Just then, the rumble of a car sounded from outside.

Ferdinand had returned.

"Mr. Ellsworth," Belinda greeted politely as he stepped inside, then quietly withdrew.

him closely. From the moment he entered, Ferdinand's eyes never left Briony. He didn't spare Mary a single

disappointment crossed Mary's face, but she masked it with a

come back of her own accord," she said, sidling up to him and taking his arm with a playful pout. "You got your way after all, but poor Briony she's suffered so much! She can't see,

his arm free, his gaze cold. "This doesn't concern you. Go

face clouded over. "Briony and I go way back. Why are

fixed her with a look. "Be good.

was

a huff, Mary turned and stomped up

It seemed Ferdinand hadn't made things difficult for Mary

stepped closer,

expected," he said quietly. "You've lost

haven't you?"

a bitter laugh. "Congratulations, Mr. Ellsworth. Your little experiment

didn't respond. Instead, he reached for

flinched, instinctively trying to pull away, but Ferdinand spoke softly, "Hold still.

truck. So she's on her knees, arranging the blanket and her tits are dangling there like forbidden fruit. My dick is stiffer than sin in my briefs, there is no one around for miles

have to use force. She's addicted to skin on skin contact with

in. I'm a bastard. I'm a terrible man for considering it. One flick up my wrist and she'd be on her back. She might

the right word for how

I'm being eaten alive.

corner of the blanket and the shirt rides up to the small of her back, displaying her ass. Those two tight buns that I'd crawl across a thousand miles of broken glass to sink my teeth into. I'm used to getting what I want, when I want it. And I've never wanted anything more than her heart, her body, her commitment to

man who gets to be with her. That's

that doesn't mean

way to get some relief. Something. Anything. Or I'm worried I won't make

a better man and football player. Can't do that to my future wife. I won't. I can be the good

Can't I?

her pussy is going to be. Yeah right. Every other thought in my head

it. Some measure of it.

I whip off my shirt and toss it into the sand, kneeling down beside Stella on the blanket. She's in the process of finding the right page of her notes, so it takes her a moment to look up.

She's staring at my abs, so I flex them and listen to

"You just what, honey?"

you

that what we

during the kissing

fucking cute. How am I not tackling her

Her cheeks darken. "I mean,

probably take yours off, too. Just so

adorably. "Nice try. You don't even know the meaning of self- conscious. Not when you've got all of this..." She wiggles her fingers near my chest. "Going

a compliment, Stella?" I wrap my hands around her waist and drag

she chews her lip instead.

sweat popping up and down my spine. Oh, this girl of mine. I don't

for skin-on-skin contact against her? Christ, I'm such a bastard. "You don't have to be nervous, Stella. When we have sex for the first time, I'm going to go nice and slow. I'm going to make sure your pussy is wet enough to fit me. We're going to find out what you like so I can give it to

search mine. "What do you

like every other time I remember my empty, meaningless track record with women before her, a pit forms in the center of my stomach. "Please, I don't

keeping the distress at bay. "When we make love, it's going to be my first

love?" she repeats dazedly

after one day, honey? You ain't seen nothing yet." I'm coming dangerously close to revealing what an absolute fanatic I am for her. Maybe

responds, shaking

from reaching

notes, settling both in her lap. "We should start with Ancient Greece and Hellenistic