“You’re fucking perfection,” I rasped, looking down at her. She truly was. Long dark hair spread out around her, petite yet curvy and hazel eyes that were more green than brown looking back at me. I’d never seen anything more beautiful in my life.
Bending down, I used my thumbs to open her to me and took the first swipe with my tongue.
“Oh god,” she groaned as her pelvis twisted slightly. I wasn’t sure if she was trying to get closer to me or further away from me, but I adjusted my hands, so I was holding her hips whilst keeping her open for my tongue.
The sweetness hit me on the second swipe and I moaned as I caught her clit between my lips and gave it the same treatment that I’d given her nipples moments earlier. I could hear her gasping and moaning as I licked and sucked, and it spurred me on.
Moving further down, I carefully licked into her opening as my thumb slowly rubbed her clit. The taste of her was out of this world and I just knew I was going to become an addict.
Carefully pushing the tip of my finger into her, I moved it gently into her and continued to flick my tongue at the same time. My finger butting up against her innocence confirmed my suspicions, but also made me beyond relieved that I’d had the presence of mind to go slowly instead of just pushing into her like I wanted to.
Her body started to tremble harder, so I moved my mouth back up to her clit as I continued to move my finger in and out of her. It was too much for her, and on my next hard suck, her back arched and she came in my mouth with a cry.
Once she started to come down, I gave her one last long lick and slowly kissed my way back up her stomach, moving my hands gently up and down her sides. Once I reached her face, I gave her a soft peck on the lips and waited for her to open her eyes. When she did, the soft look that she gave me as she reached up and gently stroked the side of my face tipped me further over the hill I’d been teetering on.
I was well and truly gone for this beautiful woman.
Chapter Six
William
Walking up toward the door to my parent’s house, I took a deep breath. I didn’t think they’d be angry or upset by my news, far from it, but I did know they’d ask a million questions and arrange a family meal as soon as possible. Fortunately, my grandparents were backpacking around Sri Lanka. Their version of backpacking included a rental car, lots of suitcases and hotels. However, they both used backpacks and explored away from the typical tourist areas, so they argued it counted as backpacking. I missed them; they were hilarious and outrageous, and I couldn’t wait to introduce Wilhelmina to them.
Double checking that I still had the keys to my princess’s new locks in my pocket, I opened the door and walked into the foyer of my parent’s home. I was lucky, my parents had inherited a lot of what we had and although we worked hard, we had grown up surrounded by beauty.
Dad had received a KBE, an honour given by the Queen, for his work over the years and dedication to promoting British business interests overseas. Whilst we owned the Renton Hotel company, he’d also formed an international British business person’s association to assist other British companies with interests overseas. It currently had over eight thousand members and they were moving on to introducing educational activities like the Duke of Edinburgh’s Award so that students could take part in it internationally. His Knighthood gave him the title of Sir, but he tended to be a bit bashful when it came to using it. I loved that about him and would have been the same in his shoes.
The Association’s latest project involved a literacy charity that assisted with eradicating illiteracy. They were currently working on joining with existing literacy charities and organisations all over the world to help them get the funding and support that they needed to achieve their end goal. Wilhelmina’s father, Henry, had been trying to join the association claiming that his import and export business was eligible for membership, but so far it had been a unanimous no from all the members. Her mother Maud had offered on numerous occasions to hold parties or plan events, but my mother and the wives of the other members had gently and diplomatically turned her down. After all of this, they had then come up with the idea of me and Portia, hoping that it would open the doors further into the high society world of London. It had been an epic fail all round.
My dad was my hero. He had always juggled being a father, husband, and businessman flawlessly and I hoped one day to be able to do the same with Mina and our kids. The mental image of her pregnant and playing with our children made me trip over my own feet just as our butler, Richard Grieves, came toward me.
“Master William,” he made a point of bowing down and spinning his arm as he did it. If people didn’t know Dicky (as my brother, sister and I called him), they’d assume it was done seriously, but as he stood up the sarcastic smile that was always on his face when he did this gave it all away. “And how are we today?”
“Not bad, Dicky, not bad. And how are you, old man?”
Looking around him to make sure we were alone, he leaned in toward me and said, “Me farmer giles are giving me grief.”
Bursting out laughing, I held onto the side table for support. He always spoke so properly, but as soon as he was alone with one of us, he would revert to his normal London accent. Him talking about his farmer giles i.e. his haemorrhoids or piles, was typical of him.
“That must be a pain in the arse, Dicky,” I chuckled as I patted his shoulder. “Where are the others?”
“Your parents are in the downstairs living room with Ruby,” he turned and walked in the direction of the room.
Walking in, I grinned at Ruby sitting on the floor typing on her phone while my parents Great Dane, Winston, lay with half of his body on her lap. Mum and Dad were sitting on the couch with their huge mugs of coffee. Most people expected to find antique furniture in the house, but Mum was modern and hated ‘chintz and all of that fussy bollocks’. Mum had even ordered one-pint mugs from Emma Bridgewater for family use because she hated small cups of coffee and tea, so her and Dad were drinking out of those this morning as was Ruby.
“His Royal Highness, William of Arsehole, is here,” Richard announced as he stood in the doorway.
Walking past him, I saw Dad’s shoulders shaking as he laughed and Mum shaking her head.
“Really, Richard. One of these days you’ll slip up when we have company here, and then what will you do?” she asked, trying her hardest not to laugh.
“One shall declare that one’s age has caused a conflict with his brain to mouth filter and beg for forgiveness,” he muttered as he went to leave the room.
“Oh, bollocks would you,” Mum shouted after him. “More like you’d tell them you didn’t give a toss and that they should remove the stick from their backsides.”
She was right that’s what he would say as well. Richard had been with us for so many years that he was a member of the family as were our other staff. We were as protective of him as we were of each other, and his personality just added to how much we cared about him.
“I’d make sure to call you Ma’am as I did it,” he shouted back, making Mum gasp in disgust. Typically, it was only the Queen who was called that, and my parents were strong monarchists. So, being called what Mum always thought of as ‘the Queens right’ was like serving her coffee in a tiny mug – inexcusable.
She was about to yell something back to him but remembered that I was there and changed her focus onto me.
“Hello, love! How are you? What brings you here?” She had a twinkle in her eye, so I had no doubt that she knew part of what I was going to tell her. She’d been at the party for the Dubai opening, so she’d seen me talking to Wilhelmina. She also would have heard from Dad and all of her minions that princess was now working with me at the office. What else she’d heard was anyone’s guess.
Sitting down on the couch opposite them, I looked between the three members of my family looking back at me. Before I could open my mouth to tell them though, Dicky was back in the room followed by Digby and Guy.
; “The other two little gits are here as well,” he sighed as he did another dramatic bow, before backing out of the room still doing it.
“Has he lost it?” Guy asked as he watched Dicky walk away.
“Years ago, Master Pilchard, years ago,” was his faint response from the hallway.
I saw Ruby shift position out of the corner of my eye as she watched them settle in the armchairs.
“Hello, boys!” Mum clapped her hands and picked up her phone to text Beth in the kitchen, no doubt for tea and coffee. “What brings you round?”
Almost like magic, Beth walked in with a tray of huge mugs and biscuits which she placed on the table in front of us.
“Anyone want a dunky bicky?” she asked as she passed our mugs to us. We always had the same thing when we were here, so she was well prepared.
“Always, Beth,” Digby replied. “So long as they're your cookies,” he winked.
Beth was sixty-four and had known the boys since they were little, but she still blushed as he flirted with her.
“Ah, Diggy. I wouldn’t give you anything but my bicky’s. Shout if you lot want more,” she waved at the table before she walked back toward the kitchen.
“So, has Sir Loves-a-lot told you about his new girlfriend? In fact, is she here?” Guy asked as he checked around us.
“Girlfriend?”
“What?”
“I was just about to, you dopey git!” were the replies to his question. The last one coming from me as I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Oops, apologies,” he muttered around the biscuit in his gob.
“What girlfriend?” Mum asked, but she already knew. The look on her face gave her away.
“Wilhelmina,” I answered before taking a mouthful of my coffee.
“Oh, that’s wonderful, Will,” she clapped and immediately started up as I knew she would. “We’ll have to have her round for dinner one night. What night would suit you best?”
“Wait, Wilhelmina? What about Putrid Portia?” Ruby asked, walking over and sitting on the sofa beside me. Winston followed her and climbed up onto her lap, not caring if they were on the floor or the couch. He had big dog syndrome which was the opposite of little dog syndrome. He refused to believe that he wasn’t a lapdog, and he loved Ruby, so whenever she was here, it was her lap that he honoured with his big bum.
“Ugh, she really is a minger that one,” Dad mumbled as he took a gulp of his coffee.
“One that you were trying to set him up with,” Guy pointed out, reaching for another one of the biscuits. Thankfully, Beth had brought through the whole tin, so there was plenty to go around.
“Well, we weren’t actually setting him up. They kept harping on about them being the perfect couple and we made the mistake of nodding…” Mum explained before she was cut off by Dad.
“Because we weren’t listening,” he added, shaking his head.
“Well, really. They’d been talking about crap for about an hour by that point. I really don’t care who’s invited to what and how many rooms so and so has in their house. It’s like watching a real-life episode of Keeping up Appearances,” she snapped as she reached for a biscuit to dunk in her coffee.
Keeping up Appearances was a British sitcom from around twenty years ago featuring a lady called Hyacinth Bucket who was adamant that her surname was pronounced bouquet. She organised candlelight suppers and was fixated on status and appearances. That was all fair and well, but her family lived in a council house and were the opposite of what she wanted society to see her as. It was true British humour at its finest. And Mum wasn’t wrong – the Campbell’s really were like a real-life episode of the tv show.
“Well, the good news is that I have never had any interest in Portia,” I reassured Ruby. “It has only ever been Wilhelmina.”
That was true as well. Our paths crossed all the time growing up, and I’d always had a soft spot for her that had grown as she’d grown up. She was so quiet in comparison to her family though and rarely attended functions, so it had been a struggle until I saw her that day in Covent Garden and decided that enough was enough.
“Ah, that’s lovely, Will,” Mum said smiling at me. “I’ve always liked her. She’s such a wonderful girl. She’s helped us out on a couple of your dad’s projects in the past and never minded giving up her free time.”
“It’s hard to believe she’s related to the rest of those twats,” Digby nodded, leaning back and shooting Ruby a quick glance. She blushed and looked back down at Winston who was snoring loudly.
“Portia is an overused trollop,” Ruby muttered as she stroked Winston’s paw.
“Her parents are just awful,” Mum said, wrinkling her nose. “I’m not a snob, but they really are complete and utter…” she stopped to think of the word.
“Twats?” Digby offered, repeating his earlier reference to them.
Nodding, she sat back and focused her attention on me. “So, how did it happen?”
Guy and Digby started laughing and helped me explain what had happened and how I’d orchestrated the whole thing. When we got to the part about Rory breaking in, I saw Dad’s jaw tense and Mum clench her hands into fists. Once I’d reassured them that we’d changed the locks and added another two to her door, Mum relaxed slightly, but Dad remained tense.
After another hour of conversation, during which I assured them I would bring her over for dinner one night, we looked at the clock and realised that it was almost time to meet the girls. Normally, I wouldn’t bother driving around London because it was so congested (hence why any vehicles driving into the city of London had to pay a congestion charge for the honour to get stuck in traffic jams and get cut up by rude arseholes) but today was an exception to the rule. I was just about to hug Ruby goodbye when Digby grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the door.
Looking at Guy I saw him shaking his head as he watched them walk away before he quickly shot a look in my direction.
“Anything I need to know there?”
His answering shrug didn’t put my mind at ease. I needed to have a word with Digby at some point.
Following him and Ruby out of the door, I burst out laughing at Dicky’s goodbye to us all.
“Fare thee well, bell ends!” he called as he gave a final bow and then closed the door behind us. I could still hear my parent’s laughter as I reached my car.
I couldn’t wait for my princess to be a part of this. After all the darkness that she’d grown up under with her own family, this was what she needed.
Chapter Seven
Wilhelmina
“How much longer until Big Ben starts donging again?” India asked as we walked toward the pub that Will had text me to meet him at in Covent Garden. “I miss the big buggers donging,” she muttered. India had a knack for making something innocent sound dirty, and this comment had us both laughing as we walked.
I loved this place. It was an eclectic yet tasteful mix of shops and areas that blew my mind every time I came here. And there was a massive Dr. Martens shop too that we were currently standing in front of.
“Should we go in?” I asked, waving at the door to the big glass-fronted building filled with the amazing boots.
“We need a couple of hours for this one,” India said, looking at some of the new boots in the window.
“This is true.” And it was. We’d once spent four hours choosing shoes in here. I owned three pairs of them, and that was only because I’d given six away to charity because I wasn’t brave enough to wear them. Every penny that I had I’d worked hard for. Even at university, I’d had a job during the day that I worked around my classes and a job in a pub at night. So, I didn’t feel guilty about making the odd extravagant purchase, especially when I donated them to someone who wouldn’t be able to afford them normally.
I was just about to suggest that we go and see another shop when I heard my name being called and turned around to see Will and his friends walking toward us.
I blushed remembering what we’d done e
arlier today and wondered again what was going on between us. I knew there was something, but I didn’t understand why. Portia had always been the one that got attention from people, that everyone was interested in, so to be in this situation was confusing. India and I had discussed it earlier today, and I’d decided to go with her advice and to enjoy it and hold on.
I never expected him to kiss me as soon as he got to me, but I was far from against it. When his tongue brushed my lip, I opened and met it with a soft touch of my own wondering if I was doing it right. I wasn’t sure what kissing etiquette was. Was it like when you danced, and the man led the way?
Pulling back from me, he gave me a soft peck on the tip of my nose and then rubbed his own down it gently and slowly.
“Did you have fun,” he asked softly.
Opening my eyes, I looked into his blue ones and lost focus for a second.
Tuning into the chatter coming from our friends beside us, I remembered what he’d just asked.
“I love high tea!” And I did. It had been flipping amazing. The tea was loose leaf and had been the best tea I’d ever tasted, and the cakes…I wasn’t poetic in any way shape or form, but even I was inspired to write poems about them. They were just lush! And then they’d brought over a plate with some of Fortnum and Mason’s champagne truffles. We’d gone shopping afterward, and I’d stocked up on my favourite chocolates and biscuits. My bank account would be screaming at me, but I couldn’t care less.
Grinning, he pecked me on the nose again. “We’ll make it a habit to go for high tea then.” It was as easy as that? He must have seen the shock on my face and read it correctly because he said, “Right now, I would give anything to be the one who made your face look the way it does. If high tea does that, then that’s what we’ll do.” Coming closer to me, he bent down again until his mouth was next to my ear. “I’m learning all of the things that you like and enjoy. All of them. And, I aim to keep your face looking just the way it does even if it means doing things again, and again, and again.”
Quids In: Covent Garden Series Page 5