In My Wildest Dreams (Gov 4) by Christina Dodd

Author:Christina Dodd [Dodd, Christina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-09-26T06:26:49.647000+00:00

Above her, Garrick breathed heavily, a rasp of ardor unfulfilled. His thumb brushed her again, and again, increasing the pressure with each pass. Passion seared her veins, coiled in her belly, rode between her legs. He released her arms; she didn’t fight, but grabbed at him, at the pillows, at anything which could connect her with the real world while this torturous pleasure built and built until she thought she would cleave from the force of her rapture.

She heard herself whimper. Clamped her lips shut in self-consciousness. Whimpered again.

“Let me hear you.” He was the bringer of the whirlwind, the center of the passion. “I want to know everything.”

She shook her head, trying to deny him one triumph, at least.

“Don’t tell meno. Not when I can’t . . . won’t . . .”

With force and precision, his finger swept inside her. He rode easily on the dampness he had called forth; he turned the heel of his hand to press against her. The surprise, the motion, the rightness brought her to sudden and shocking climax. She convulsed, her voice the high, incoherent cry of a girl turned woman.

Garrick Throckmorton led her all the way through. He held her in his embrace as she recovered. And when she dared open her eyes, and she saw his face, taut and still with craving, he said, “Don’t forget this. And don’t ever forget me.”

Stanhope drew back, bumping into the pot that held the ridiculous little orange tree, knocking a few of the tiny green fruit to the floor. He ground them into the carpet in his hurry to conceal himself, but he needn’t have bothered. The gardener’s daughter ran past him, clutching her open bodice in her hands, blind with embarrassment and residual passion.

He feared Throckmorton would surely catch him lurking. He debated between running after Celeste and hoping he wasn’t recognized, or standing here and acting as if he’d observed nothing, when in fact he’d seen Throckmorton giving the girl the kind of good time a man gives only to a girl he wants to impress.

Well, someone had been impressed, and that someone had been Stanhope. He hadn’t believed Throckmorton’s story yesterday. When he’d had time to think about it, he had decided it had all sounded likely—all except the part where Throckmorton, the inimitable spy master and ever-proper autocrat, trifling with the gardener’s daughter. And if he didn’t believe that, the whole story stank, and maybe it was time for him to get his savings from under the floorboards of his room and make run for it.

But that scene in the conservatory . . . that was confirmation that he could stay and make just a little more cash.

How could he use this to his advantage?

Stepping to the middle of the hall, he pretended he had been strolling past for no good reason, and waited to bump into Throckmorton as he left. But Throckmorton didn’t leave, and Stanhope glanced into the conservatory.

Throckmorton sat on the sofa, head on his hands.

Stanhope didn’t understand why Throckmorton held his head.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.