The Scotch Series: The Complete Series (Scotch #1-3) - Penelope Sky Page 0,52

kept my cock inside her. I never wanted to leave the warmth of this woman. She was better than any lover I’d ever had, and that was saying something because I had experience with some of the most beautiful and confident women in the world. But there was something about London that satisfied my darkest urges.

I slowly pulled out of her and watched my come seep from her soaked pussy. I admired my handiwork, my claim. “On your hands and knees.”

Still breathless and sweaty, she stared at me in surprise.

“You think I’m finished?”

Ariel and I had dinner together at my favorite restaurant in Scotland, The Kitchin. French techniques on Scottish delicacies, it was one of my favorite places in Edinburgh. Ariel didn’t eat much of anything, so my choice made no difference to her. Her commitment to being thin baffled me because she was pretty enough to look however she wanted. Personally, I liked curves on a woman. London had the perfect hips, the nice curve in her waist, and gorgeous tits.

I ordered the scallops, and Ariel ordered the halibut. It was difficult not to order seafood when we were so close to the North Sea, the place where fishermen caught fresh fish just that morning.

She and I discussed work, like usual. We didn’t touch on topics about our personal lives very often. We had too many other things to discuss on a daily basis. Running two enormous companies, one criminal and one private, sucked the time from both of us.

We drank our wine and ate our entrees, discussing the new shipments of Scotch we sent out to America. They had their own form of scotch, known as bourbon, but most restaurants preferred to keep both selections on hand.

“Our little ploy with Joseph seemed to work.” She swirled her wine before she took a sip.

It more than worked. “Yes. She’s been very responsive.”

“So I hear.” Ariel gave me a knowing look, the corner of her mouth raised in a smile. Despite her dislike of London, she didn’t say anything harsh about her in my presence. “So, she’s finally under control?”

“Absolutely.” When I told her to do something, she did it. Sometimes that look came into her eyes, her pure annoyance at the situation she was in. But she obeyed me anyway. That struggle turned me on.

“Are you bringing her to the dinner this Saturday then?”

I stared into my wine before I answered. “Not sure.”

“Maybe you should take someone else. Josephine will be there.”

I drank the rest of my wine before I set the glass on the table. “I don’t care if she’s there. I’m not missing an opportunity to speak with Her Majesty. That woman means nothing to me.”

Ariel gave me a cold look that suggested she didn’t believe me. “I still think you should take someone. The lovelier, the better.”

London was the definition of lovely. Those beautiful green eyes would light up the room instantly. In a satin gown handmade by a designer, she would look ravishing. Everyone would see her on my arm and wonder where I found her. She looked like a queen, and she would make me look like a king. “I’ll take London. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

Ariel raised an eyebrow. “Are you certain of that?”

“Yes.” I had her under control.

“Because you have a line of women to choose from.”

I did—all of them beautiful, interesting, and smart. “She’s at the top of the list.”

Ariel cocked her head to the side. “Is she your plaything or something more, Crewe?”

“Plaything,” I answered immediately. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

She seemed to believe me because she looked away. “Good. Because she’s a terrible match. American trash. She doesn’t know a damn thing about etiquette, how to be a lady, and she certainly doesn’t have an ounce of Scottish blood within her.”

Ariel’s discrimination always amused me. “For a lady, you sure swear a lot.”

“Because I’m with you,” she reminded me.

“And I don’t look Scottish either. Who knows what she is.”

“You understood my point, Crewe.” She drank her wine again. “Don’t act like you didn’t. If you want children someday, you can’t just pick anyone. You’re carrying history in your blood. You’re carrying scotch in your blood. Don’t fall for an American whore.”

“I understand you don’t like her, but please don’t call her that.” I had no reason to defend London and it shouldn’t matter to me what Ariel called her, but since I was fucking her every night, I felt obligated to defend her honor. In truth, I