Wicked Again (The Wickeds #7) - Kathleen Ayers Page 0,29

most bare of leaves, as his carriage neared the park. Marissa was bound to be surprised when she saw that he had accompanied his daughter today. She wouldn’t be expecting him.

Good. Marissa could do with a few surprises now and again.

Stubborn.

She was testing the limits of Trent’s patience, and considering he had four daughters, that was considerable indeed.

Challenging.

Trent had known the moment he took her in his arms and danced with her at Brushbriar, lifting her chin as if daring him to charm her, that they would be lovers. He’d sensed her vulnerability, well-hidden behind a sparkling wit, concealed nearly as well as the ruthlessness flickering in her sapphire eyes.

Clever.

The conversation between them had never lagged. Much to his surprise, Marissa was not only well-informed on a variety of subjects, but her opinions were her own. His late wife had barely ever expressed an independent thought, nor had any of his previous lovers ever espoused their views. Marissa was an intelligent woman. One who, given her family’s reputation, would be unwise to cross.

She was the most fascinating creature Trent had ever encountered. And his determination to have her, as evidenced by the hardening of his cock before he’d even kissed her that night, had only increased tenfold.

Shy.

When at last he’d pressed Marissa down on the bed in her room at Brushbriar, Trent’s heart had ached at the sight of her. She’d been so lovely with all her dark hair spilling about the coverlet like a halo. Marissa had blushed as he’d untied the robe she'd worn, begging him, with no small amount of embarrassment, to please douse the candle.

Her inhibition had surprised him, as had the unexpected rush of protectiveness for her filling his chest.

Trent had taken the greatest care, wanting Marissa to weep his name as he bedded her, as he knew he would hers. This was no mere tryst, as the shaking of his fingers when he touched her had informed him. He’d traced the small lines radiating from her navel, proof she’d borne her two sons, then bent and trailed his tongue along each one, despite her protests.

Battle-scarred.

Nibbling at her warm, vanilla-scented skin, feeling her surprise as she climaxed at the mere brush of his thumb, Trent had breathed in Marissa. When he had finally settled between her thighs and thrust deep inside her, she’d cried out, her inner muscles clasping him so tightly, Trent had felt his heart stop.

“I’m sorry,” she had whispered. “I’m—well, I haven’t—it has been some time. Several years at least.” A small laugh had escaped her. “I don’t make this a habit.”

“I don’t either,” he’d confessed, pressing a kiss to her open mouth, stopping her protests. Trent hadn’t been with a woman in nearly two years before Marissa. Sex had ceased to be important to him, as meaningless as the act had become.

It was frustrating as hell she refused to acknowledge what was between them.

Which was why Haddon had been forced to use Jordana to keep Marissa close. She had offered to help his daughter, though Haddon had barely heard her at the time. He had been too entertained with running his tongue up the underside of one of Marissa’s breasts.

The woman had a magnificent bosom.

Just the thought resulted in his cock thickening. He hoped he could get through their walk in the park without pulling her behind a tree to ravish her as he was sorely tempted to do. Overwhelming Marissa with sex would be far too easy.

I want all of her.

“I don’t want to be late, Papa. Lady Cupps-Foster doesn’t tolerate tardiness, especially since she kindly made time for me after rearranging her schedule. I promised to meet her at the spot where the path begins along the river.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll be right on time.”

“I’m not sure why you’ve come.” Jordana eyed him with suspicion. “Don’t make her angry as you did the other day.”

“I thought I would take a moment to assure Lady Cupps-Foster that she must send any bills for your outings and purchases to me. She is my friend as well. And I fail to see how I made her angry the other day.”

“She wasn’t happy you left me to take tea with her alone even after I told her you’d a previous appointment which could not be avoided.” His daughter gave him an innocent look.

Trent was, it seemed, surrounded by clever females.

“I’m glad you two have got on so well.” He’d known they would. Marissa had wanted to refuse him, but she was far too kind