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, lethelp 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 cdown 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.

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

A flicker of disappointment crossed Mary's face, but she masked it with a carefree smile.

"Look, Ferdinand, Briony's cback 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, she can't taste, and it's all your doing. How could you be so cruel?" Ferdinand pulled his arm free, his gaze cold. "This doesn't concern you. Go upstairs and rest." Mary's face clouded over. "Briony and I go way back. Why are you always so jealous?" Ferdinand fixed her with a look. "Be good. Don't makerepeat myself, alright?" His tone was gentle, but there was an unmistakable chill in his eyes.

With a huff, Mary turned and stomped up the stairs.

Briony listened to the retreating footsteps, her hands curling tightly into fists. It seemed Ferdinand hadn't made things difficult for Mary after she helped Briony escape or perhaps he was simply biding his time, mindful that Mary was carrying his child.

Ferdinand stepped closer, studying Briony's face.

"Just as I expected," he said quietly. "You've lost your sense of taste now too, haven't you?" Briony let out a bitter laugh. "Congratulations, Mr. Ellsworth. Your little experiment worked." He didn't respond. Instead, he reached for her wrist.

Briony flinched, instinctively trying to pull away, but Ferdinand spoke softly, "Hold still. I'm checking your pulse." othing but panties and a button-down shirt. And not a single one of the buttons are fastened, thanks to swork from my deft fingers back in the 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 and I can't help it. I can't help but think about how easily I could make her mine right now.

I wouldn't have to use force. She's addicted to skin on skin contact with me.

It makes her hot. A few minutes of making out with our shirts off and she'd be screaming forto put it 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 try and pushoff, briefly, but she's too horny to fightfor long. She'd letkiss her. I'd hump her through those threadbare panties and she'd start to crave the real thing. The way I do.

No, crave isn't the right word for how badly I want Stella.

I'm being eaten alive.

She stretches out to smooth a 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 me. Never. Nothing else even comes close. So the waiting, the torture, is something of an honor. The lust burns, but I fucking love it. It belongs to Stella. It's for her, so it's right.

I'm the man who gets to be with her. That's worth the pain.

But that doesn't mean I'm a saint.

I have to find a way to get srelief. Something. Anything. Or I'm worried I won't make it through the next two days without impressing my will upon her.

And that would disrespect her thoughtfulness, her determination to makea better man and football player. Can't do that to my future wife. I won't. I can be the good man she thinks I am.

Can't I? I swallow the rock in my throat and close my eyes, breathing deep. Don't think about how tight her pussy is going to be. Yeah right. Every other thought in my head consists of exactly that. How she'll stretch and clench and whimper and claw.

Relief. I need it. Smeasure of it. Somehow.

Already disgusted with myself, 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. But when she does, her double-take almost makeslaugh. Or groan. Or both. Her balance wanes and she starts to pitch sideways, so I reach out and steady her. "You all right, Stella?" "What, me? Yes." She's staring at my abs, so I flex them and listen to her intake of breath. "I just... just..." "You just what, honey?" "Didn't expect you to be shirtless." "Isn't that what we agreed on?" "Yes, but during the kissing parts only." The kissing parts. Oh my God, she's so fucking cute. How am I not tackling her onto the blanket right now? "You wantto put my shirt back on?" "No!" Her cheeks darken. "I mean, n-no." I nod with mock seriousness. "You should probably take yours off, too. Just so I don't feel self-conscious." She smirks 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 on." "Is that a compliment, Stella?" I wrap my hands around her waist and drag her toward me. "Ah, honey. You should seewith my pants off." I expect a snarky retort, but she chews her lip instead. "I'm nervous about sex, Gage." My heart drops to my stomach, cold prickles of sweat popping up and down my spine. Oh, this girl of mine. I don't like her anything but happy. I hate it.

Was I really contemplating using her need 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 you every day for the rest of your life." Curious blue eyes search mine. "What do you like?" "I like you, Stella." Just like every other tI remember my empty, meaningless track record with women before her, a pit forms in the center of my stomach. "Please, I don't want to think about when you weren't around." Nausea roils in my belly and I yank her closer, the magic of her presence keeping the distress at bay. "When we make love, it's going to be my first time, too. All right?" "Make love?" she repeats dazedly into my neck.

"That's what said." I can't stop my hands from creeping up underneath the tail of her button-down shirt, delving down the back of her panties to massage her ass cheeks. "You think it's crazy to love you 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 I have already, somewhat, but she doesn't know how deep this obsession runs. I'm not sure I even know yet. I don't want to show Stella too much intensity and scare her away, though. So I harness every iota of my willpower and ease her out of my embrace. "We better get studying," I rasp.

"Y-yes," she responds, shaking herself.

My hands curl into fists to keep from reaching for her as she picks up the textbook and her notes, settling both in her lap. "We should start with Ancient Greece and Hellenistic Civilization..."

For the next hour, Stella tutors me.

And I memorize every single word.

There is no way to forget a single in gets thing that passes through her beautiful lips. The sun sets argund her in pinks and golds as she goes through her notes, so intelligent and studious, my heart is in my throat the whole fucking time. I don't forget for a single second that we have a deal, either. For every answer I get correct, she's going to kisssomewhere on my body. She's going to do it topless, too. Jesus, if every man was lucky enough to study this way, there wouldn't be a single failed test for the rest of time.

Jealousy tightens my gut. She's never tutoring anyone else but me. I hadn't even on't like it and it's not considered the possibility uptilnow but happening. "Medieval history doesn't seem to agree with you," she muses. "You're scowling." "Am I the first guy you've tutored?" She nods. Calmly. As if I didn't just shout that question at her.

Relief rushes throughso swiftly, I get dizzy. "You can tutor other females if you absolutely have to, but I'm still coming with you." "Sure." She giggles-making a significant dent in my irritation. "That won't be distracting at all." "Distracting how?" "The entire tI've been going through my notes, you've looked like...I don't know. Like you're ready to pounce on me." "I am." She tilts her head, exasperated, and it's almost as hot as the eye rolling.

"Have you paid attention to a single word I'd said?" "Every fucking line, honey. Quiz me." I beat my chest with a fist. "Let's do this." "Very well, we'll start easy. Who fought in the Peloponnesian War?" "Athens and Sparta. Kiss my neck." I crook my finger, beckoning her closer.

There has been way too much space between us for way too long. "Might as well stay right here in front of me, because I'm getting them all right." "You're so confident." "Your mouth is on the line, Stella." Slowly, I tip my head to the right, watching her gaze slip to my neck and heat. "Kiss it. Take your time. We never decided the kisses had to be quick."

She sets down her book, notes, rising up on her knees and coming toward me, the breeze almost blowing open her unbuttoned shir Just enough to see the center curves of her tits. My cock has been solid as fuck this entire time, but my balls start to hum and clench now, needing to spend. Wanting to do it inside of her. All over her. For her. When Stella reaches me, she chews her bottom lip a moment, then slowly peels off the dress shirt, putting her in a thin pair of panties and nothing else.

And my sweet lord, those tits. Perky fucking peaches. I want to worship and defile them. I want to put them in expensive bras encrusted with diamonds- and just watch me, I will. I'll spoil her so rotten, every day will seem like Christmas for her.

Her delicate hands perch on my shoulders and I make a hoarse, involuntary sound, my dick stretching in my briefs. I hold my breath as she leans in and presses her lips to the area beneath my ear. Kissing me. Inhalingshyly.

Losing her breath againstwhen her hips meet mine. She feels what she's done. What she'll always do to this cock.

"Next question, Stella," I grit out, my hands shaking with the need to crush her hips closer, where I can grind out srelief. "I need to earn another kiss." "Right." She wets her lips, still so close to my neck, it's the best kind of torture. "Which battle ended the war and how?" "The Battle of Aegospotami. It ended in the destruction of Athens' fleet of ships." I'm not going to lie, when she cutsan impressed glance, I almost ejaculate then and there. Who knew I would like to please my tutor so much? "You were listening," she says.

"I'll never forget a single word you say." My fingers climb the nape of her neck, sliding into her hair to cradle the back of her head. "Kiss my mouth now." There's an eager quality to her expression now. She's a horny girl. Fuck the football field, the best moments of my life are going to be spent making her come. I live for her. It's killingnot to pin her down on the blanket right now and thrust home. The pain in my stomach is nearly unbearable, but the way her nipples drag up my pecs? The way her mouth meets mine from below in a feather-light kiss, slow, slow, slow, makes the torture worth it. She's so motherfucking sweet.

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