Chapter 6
Wesley
Wesley arrived at the Hasting residence just after eleven. He had slept merely three hours the night before, reeling from disbelief that Thea was finally his. It was like everything had changed in a moment, and he was still catching up.
Thea loved him, and they’d been intimate.
He had learned that it wasn’t her first time.
A part of him could admit that it irked him that she had been with William, but he couldn’t pretend he hadn’t closed his eyes and used other women’s bodies to curb his need for Thea.
It had been a long time since he had done so, but he understood why she had done the same.
And she was his now, which in truth, was all that mattered. No one but the two of them would ever know he wasn’t her first.
The butler showed him to the drawing room. Lady Hasting was already waiting with a curious expression. Thea sat beside her mother in a pale blue gown, and Wesley's chest tightened at the sight of her.
She looked tired. Beautiful, but tired, with shadows beneath her eyes that hadn't been there before. Apparently sleep had evaded her as well.
“Your Grace.” Lady Hasting rose. “We weren't expecting you to call today.”
“Forgive the intrusion. I have a matter of importance to discuss.”
What followed was brief. The wide grin didn’t leave Lady Hasting’s face as soon as she learned that Wesley wanted to marry her daughter and that Thea would accept. Through it all, Thea sat with a small smile fixed on her face that didn't reach her eyes.
“I see no reason to delay the wedding preparations.” Lady Hasting turned to Thea with a look that was almost triumphant. “I always knew you'd come to your senses eventually. And now you shall be a duchess.”
Thea's smile tightened. “Yes, Mama.”
“You'll need to curb some of your more . . . independent tendencies, of course. A duchess can't go traipsing about doing whatever she pleases. You’ll be expected to be a model for the ton.” Lady Hasting laughed as if she'd made a joke.
“But I'm sure His Grace will help you understand what's expected.”
Wesley watched Thea's face. She appeared as if she’d like to strangle her mother.
“Thea will make the perfect duchess,” he said, letting Thea know that he had zero doubt.
“You're kind to say so. I’ve done my best to prepare her.” Lady Hasting waved a hand. “I’ll write to your mother and we’ll begin the arrangements immediately.”
When her mother left to speak with the butler, Wesley crossed to sit beside Thea. He took her hand, threading his fingers through hers.
“Are you well? You appear as if something is amiss.”
“I'm fine.” She squeezed his hand, but her gaze slid away from his. “Just tired.”
“Your mother—”
“Is my mother.” Thea's voice was flat. “I've had years of practice ignoring her.” She paused, and her face was flushed. “Wesley, there's something I need to—”
The door opened. Lady Hasting swept back in with the butler in tow, already issuing instructions about announcements and wedding preparations.
Thea's mouth closed. Whatever she'd been about to say disappeared behind that careful smile.
Wesley watched her, waiting for her to try to speak again, but she didn't. She sat with her hand in his while her mother paid them no attention.
When he finally took his leave, he kissed her hand and murmured that he would see her soon.
“Wesley.” She caught his arm before he could step away. For a moment, he thought she might make one last attempt. “Tonight. Come to me tonight. Please.”
It wasn't what she'd been about to say before. He was certain of it.
“Of course,” he said. “Nothing could keep me away.”
It was the truth.
The Fox was crowded, and Wesley was almost finished with his glass of whiskey when he noticed Kit's usual table still sat empty.
“Where's Kit tonight?” he asked.
Louis shrugged. “Haven't seen the lad in days.”
Strange. But Wesley had more important things to think about—like the woman waiting for him across London.
Louis made a toast to the future Duchess of Greystone. Max offered dry commentary about wedding nights. Wesley laughed in the right places and won back some of the money he'd lost. By the time he climbed into his carriage, all he wanted was Thea.
The trellis behind the Hasting residence was sturdy, thick with climbing roses that tore at his coat as he climbed. The thorns bit into his palms and snagged his cravat, but he didn’t care. The love of his life was waiting for him on the other side of that window.
Her room was dark other than the glow from the fireplace. The window was unlatched. He eased it open and slipped inside.
Thea was sitting on the edge of her bed in her night rail and dressing robe, her hands clasped in her lap. She looked up when he climbed through and appeared almost nervous by his arrival.
“You came.”
“You asked me to.” He crossed the room to stand before her. “I told you nothing could keep me away.”
She rose to meet him, her hands coming up to his chest. The thin fabric of her night rail did nothing to hide the shape of her beneath it, and his body responded despite the worry in her eyes.
“Wesley.” She took a breath. “Before we—I need to tell you something. I should have told you before, but I didn't know how, and then everything happened so fast, and I—”
“Thea.” He covered her hands with his own. “Whatever it is, it can wait if you're not ready.”
“But that's just it. I don't think it can wait.” Her voice wavered. “You deserve to know who you're marrying. The real me. Not just—”
She stopped, her gaze dropping to where their hands were joined.
“I know who you are,” he said. “You're the woman I've wanted for years. The woman I love.”
“You don't know everything.” Her eyes met his again, and he saw fear there. “Wesley, I—”
She shook her head, and he watched her swallow whatever she'd been about to say.
“I'm trying,” she whispered. “I want to tell you. But every time I start, the words won't come.”
“Then don't force it.” He cupped her face in his hands. “Tell me tomorrow. Tell me next week. Tell me whenever you're ready. I'm not going anywhere.”
“You say that now.” Her voice was so quiet he almost didn't hear it. “But what if—”
“There is no 'what if.' I love you, Thea. Whatever you're afraid of, it can’t change how I feel. Nothing could change that.”
She closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were bright with unshed tears.
“Make love to me,” she said. “Please. I need to feel you.”
He didn't understand what she was so afraid of. But if she needed him tonight, there wasn’t a thing that would hold him back.
He would give her anything.
He kissed her—soft at first, then deeper when her mouth opened beneath his. Her fingers worked at his cravat, his coat, pushing away layers until her palms pressed flat against his chest. She trembled beneath his touch.
“We can take this slow,” he murmured against her lips.
“I don't want slow.” She pulled back to meet his eyes. “I want you. All of you. Now.”
He untied her dressing robe and pushed it off her shoulders, then gathered the hem of her night rail and lifted it over her head. When she stood bare before him, he let his gaze travel down her body. The swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the dark curls between her thighs.
“Don't just tell me I’m beautiful,” she teased.
“I was going to remind you that you are mine.” He stripped off his own clothes and watched her eyes drop to his cock, already hard and aching for her. “Lie down on the bed, sweetheart.”
She obeyed, stretching out on the sheets. He climbed over her and kissed her—long and deep—his hands exploring her body. He cupped her breasts, rolling her nipples between his fingers until she gasped against his mouth.
“I love you,” he said, kissing down her neck, her collarbone. “Every inch of your body.” He closed his mouth over her nipple and sucked. She arched into him with a moan. “I can’t wait to have you in our bed.” He moved to her other breast, teasing with his tongue. “Making you beg for more.”
“Wesley—”
“Not yet.” He kissed down her stomach, her hip, the crease of her thigh. “I've thought about this. Having you spread out beneath me.” He settled between her legs and pressed a kiss to her inner thigh. “I’ve tortured myself wondering how sweet you would taste.”
He licked along her seam and groaned at finally having his tongue there. She tasted as perfect as he always knew she would. And she was already wet, her body ready for him.
He circled her sensitive bud with his tongue, making her hips jerk. His tongue worked in long, slow strokes. She moaned. Then he slid two fingers inside her, curving them upward while he sucked, making her cry out his name.
“That's it,” he murmured against her thigh. “But do be careful not to wake the house.”
He worked her with his mouth and fingers, building her pleasure with deliberate patience. Her thighs trembled around his head. Her hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer.
“Wesley—I'm going to—”
He slowed his pace, backing her away from the edge, and she whimpered in protest. “I want to watch you fall apart. Look at me, Thea.”
She opened her eyes. And there it was—that wall, the same distance from when he first arrived. Even now, with his mouth on her, she was holding something back.
He held her gaze and increased his pace, his tongue working her most sensitive spot while his fingers thrust inside her. “Come for me, sweetheart. I want to taste you when you come.”
She shattered, her back arching off the bed, her core tightening around his fingers. He licked her through it, keeping his gaze fixed on hers.
When he climbed back on top of her, she pulled him down into a fierce kiss, her tongue sliding against his, tasting herself. Her hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him, and he groaned into her mouth.
“I need you inside me,” she breathed. “Now, Wes.”
He positioned himself at her entrance and pushed in, inch by inch, watching her face as he stretched her open. Her lips parted, her eyes fluttered, and he had to stop himself from driving into her all at once.
“You feel so good.” He bottomed out and held himself still, savoring the tight heat of her around him. She felt even better than she had last night. “Nothing has ever been this perfect.”
Her hips rocked against him. “Wesley, please—”
He withdrew and thrust back in, setting a rhythm that was slow and deep. Each stroke stretched her and made her moan, and he then angled his hips to hit a spot that made her gasp.
Wesley watched her face, her eyes squeezed shut. “Thea. Look at me.”
She opened them, and there was a hint of sadness in her expression.
“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.” He drove into her harder, gripping her hip to hold her steady. “You have nothing to fear.”
Her eyes were wet with unshed tears, but she pulled him down and kissed him again, her tongue sliding against his, her body rising to meet his thrusts.
“I love you,” she said against his mouth. “I love you so much, Wesley. Please always remember that.”
“I love you too.”
Her hand slid between them, her fingers finding where they were joined, circling herself while he thrust into her. The sight of her touching herself while he took her nearly undid him.
“Christ, Thea.” He drove into her faster, harder, chasing the release that was building at the base of his spine. “I’m not going to last much longer.”
“Me neither.” She tightened around him, her fingers moving faster. “I’m so close.”
He felt her body clench, heard her cry out, and then he was following her over the edge—spilling deep inside her with a groan that felt like it was torn from somewhere deep in his chest. His hips jerked through the aftershocks as her body milked every last drop from him.
They lay tangled together afterward, both of them breathing hard. Wesley traced patterns on her shoulder, waiting for his heartbeat to slow.
She curled against him, and soon her breathing evened out. Wesley lay awake, staring at the ceiling, the knot in his chest tightening with every passing minute.
She was keeping something from him. But whatever it was, they would face it together.