I sit back into the limo, my head reeling despite having endured sixty fucking minutes with that idiot Kensington after seeing Felicity.
For fifteen years I’ve been the head of the Brent mafia. I’ve quietly pulled it from obscurity compared to our famous London neighbours, first to acknowledgement, then discomfort, and finally respect and pure dark fear. In all that time, I’ve focused on my work and making a team I can rely on to carry out my orders. I’ve built an empire. But no one tells you the price. I don’t think even I noticed until it was too late.
Being at the top of the pyramid, however solidly you’ve built it, is lonely. No one can touch me. That feeling has been my only constant companion, a pane of glass between me and the world. Protective, yes, but isolated.
The moment I saw Felicity, it shattered. I could feel her vibrancy, her determination, and the heat of her lush body. She’s the sun revealing itself in a glorious rainbow after a long drizzly day.
Brave as well as gorgeous, such an angel, trying to warn me about her father. Unnecessary, since I was only there to assess the extent of the financial problems at Kensington. I was never going to invest, but though I suspected Westminster’s dirty tricks were involved, she saved me some questions by confirming that. My girl already knew where her loyalty lay: with me. But she’s far gutsier than most women would be with a vindictive dickhead like Kensington, taking a risk talking back to him and putting her safety at risk to help me. And that trick with using the gold cupcakes to warn me off investing? Amazing. Subtle and witty and intelligent.
A whip-smart mind and perfect beauty hidden in plain sight. Big grey eyes, the colour of smoke and just as mysterious. I can’t believe she’s been overlooked all this time, as though all the men in Kensington knew she was mine and left her alone, waiting for me. The Kensington mafia are clearly ignorant misogynists, unaware of how this woman will be a powerful ally. Nimble and strong enough to break all my defences. I’ve never been bothered by younger women before. I prefer more experience and fewer expectations.
Felicity broke that idea. Pulverised it. I want her to ask things of me, and I want to be the man to introduce her to everything she wants in the world.
I can’t believe it. After years of being alone, my heart demanded I claim her the instant our gazes met. Along with my cock it was the leader of a fuck coup against my brain, and they threaten to lead my whole body to do something animalistic. It took all my self-control not to just take her the moment I saw her.
Thankfully I managed to simply take a sip of tea, like a good British psychopath should, repressing all my Italian fire, and swear she’d be mine.
I’ve never believed in fate. I make my own luck, I don’t wait around for anything. But Felicity? I think maybe meeting her was some sort of magic. Destiny.
She felt it too, I’m certain. The only reason I’m leaving without her slung over my shoulder is because of that shake of her head.
I’ll have to wait. There will be hours and days until she’s by my side again. It makes my teeth ache.
Will she be as sweet as one of her cupcakes when I lick her out? I bet she’ll be even more delicious. Sweet and salt and moaning as I make her come.
There are a hundred ways I’m going to give her pleasure. On my fingers, my tongue, my cock. With her naked and grinding onto my face, using my mouth, and at my mercy, tied up while I pleasure her again and again until she begs me to make her mine.
My cock is so fucking hard, and I wish I had a photo of her to look at. CCTV. I’ll find footage. I’ll discover everything about her, and grant her every wish. But right now…
“Circle around for a bit,” I order the driver before flicking the switch to close the screen between us.
I barely wait until it’s shut before I fumble with my belt, the clink loud in my ears, and rip open my flies. My cock pokes up, and it’s half a second to shove my boxers down and expose it.
I close my eyes and think of Felicity as I grasp my cock and fist it hard. I can’t wait to see her dark hair spilling over my pillow. I wonder how far those cute freckles extend?
My cock is leaking with how much I need release, and although part of me wants to wait until I’m with her, I’ll go mad without relief.
I’ve never wanted kids before, but as soon as I think of being with Felicity naked, it’s right. I’ll breed her. She’ll be rounded with our child. Ripe and even more desirable.
My thoughts are soft, but my actions are rough. Brutal even. I hate that I need this, that it’s not her hand on my cock. Or her wet heat sheathing me and milking out my orgasm into her body as she comes on my cock. So I do what I have to in order to sate the bodily need I feel after seeing her.
“Felicity.” I choke out her name as I come, and the memory of her face makes the sharp wash of pleasure a release and an ache.
Cleaning up and tucking myself away, my skin prickles.
This was wrong. She should be here, with me. I should be licking her pussy and taking care of her, and I’m left with an overwhelming instinct to return to her.
I thought an orgasm thinking of my girl would take the edge off. Maybe make it easier to think rationally.
It hasn’t.
I’m worse. More obsessed. I don’t think I can do this again—touch myself—until we’re together. That pleasure was empty without her, a shell of the satisfaction I’d have sinking into her welcoming pussy. I scrape my hand over my face and through my hair, my frustration worse than it was before.
Feeling this dirty might have to be something I get used to.
At thirty-nine, I’m probably twice her age.
She’s tiny and pure, sweet and innocent. I’m amoral, scarred, and probably going to destroy her family.
She’s also strong and clever. The only reason a girl like her says she doesn’t need any help when she’s obviously in a shitty situation is because she’s cooking up a way out. I hope there are no men involved, because they’ll have an untimely death if they touch my girl.
I’ll be watching every moment, protecting her. Life has dealt her a poor hand so far, but from this point onwards, that changes. She’s about to become very lucky. I’ll discover all the things she wants most in the world, and give them to her along with all the love and orgasms she can take. That sadness I saw in her grey eyes? I’ll remove every cause, including her father.
I won’t stop until Felicity is happy.
From today, I have a new job. The whole of Brent’s considerable forces will be focused on one person. Felicity. And one task.
Operation Wife.
