All the Secret Pleasures [I Love Rogues Anthology] by Thea Devine

Author:Thea Devine [Devine, Thea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Now he knew everything, he knew her weakness and her desire, and every part of her body that was open to him, he knew.

Corinna stared at her reflection in the mirror the next morning and wondered if she looked any different. It didn't seem to her that there was a change, but deep inside, in all the secret pleasurable places he had touched her body, she knew there was.

She rubbed her chest where he had spilled his seed. Her skin felt softer, did it not? She was softer, like tallow--thick and malleable with this burgeoning lust she couldn't seem to contain.

She had taken a lover and given him everything, in the dark, and she was melting for him already between her legs not hours after he finger-fucked her so thoroughly.

What kind of woman was she?

The kind of woman who had a lover and no commitments, no constraints, and utter sensual freedom. The kind of woman she had long ago determined she would be.

And counting the hours until her shadow lover would return?

She understood her impatience--it had been far too long since she had had a paramour, and his expert use of her body was too new, too delicious; she wanted to savor it and she wanted more of it, and more. Even the thought of it aroused her to a fever pitch.

It had not been like that with the others...

But she had not given over her body so freely and fluidly before. Ever. Not even to Woodholme...

No!--never say so...

Yes--that was the truth of it. And that the idea of a shadow lover excited her beyond coherence.

But there was yet another day to get through--and still he might not come.

"What shall we do today?" she asked Fanny the next morning over a of pot of hot chocolate and a plate of scones.

"I do believe my lady needs to refresh her wardrobe. The invitations are coming thick and fast, and while you bought enough dresses in Paris to outfit an army, they might just be a little too avant for some occasions. If you take my meaning."

"You want to go to the dressmaker," Corinna translated dryly. "So, who is the modiste of the moment?"

Fanny wriggled her eyebrows. "Miss Wytch--and only a favored few are among her clients. She is as selective as a patroness, and no less haughty. Suffice to say, I cannot tell you how I came by her name--or any of this information. There is even a secret word."

"Oh, my word..." Corinna murmured. "Well then, of course we are obligated to go." At least it would be a distraction. It would take her mind off of the night, the feelings, the sex.

"Exactly, my lady."

They set off an hour later, and had not a little trouble locating Miss Wytch's establishment in Mayfair, which proved finally to be on the upper level of a highly unobtrusive building, with no signage or anything to indicate that a dressmaker was in business there.

Fanny not only delighted in her knowledge of this, but also

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