The Scoundrel Seeks a Wife: A Steamy Victorian Romance (The Garden Girls Book 3) by Jemma Frost

Author:Jemma Frost [Frost, Jemma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: steamy historical romance, victorian romance, opposites attract, arranged marriage, grumpy/sunshine, shy heroine, rake hero
Publisher: The Arrowed Heart
Published: 2022-11-02T18:30:00+00:00

CLARKE SHOVED THE SKIRT of her gown higher, his mouth falling to her stocking-covered knee, the heat of his breath sending a thrill through Iris. But she was tired of only receiving. She wanted to know her husband’s pleasure, as well.

“Wait, wait. Clarke.” Iris rapped on his shoulder, urging him back. A disgruntled expression highlighted his features, the fire of earlier barely banked in the depths of his dark eyes.

“What’s wrong? You don’t want this?”

“No. I want it very much, but I don’t want it alone. I want to touch you, too.” The quiet admission tumbled out in the jostling carriage, and her husband looked stunned. Was it so strange for a wife to desire such a thing? She doubted her sisters kept to themselves with as often as she’d caught a caress to a cheek here or a squeeze of a leg there.

Rocking back on his heels, Clarke mumbled something under his breath—an epithet, a prayer? —before sitting beside her. “You want to touch me?”

“Yes, if it’s alright...” His slow acceptance made her wary. Weren’t men supposed to be filled with animal spirits? Controlled by their lusts? Iris wanted him as eager for her attention as she was for his.

“We don’t have much time. Are you sure this is what you want?”

“I’m positive.” She’d dreamed of nothing else for weeks. Imagining the feel of him after witnessing his arousal encased in trim trousers upon several occasions. Only hours ago, she thought her wish might come true, and now here they were again, on the precipice.

Their heavy breathing filled the cabin, steaming the windows with the passion of its occupants, and Iris waited for Clarke’s instruction.

“Since we’ll be home any minute, this will be quick and dirty.” He paused as if she’d suddenly clam up like a nun in a brothel, but she just nodded, skin tingling with anticipation. Quick? Not ideal. But dirty? A wicked part of her looked forward to it.

“Undo my trousers and pull my cock out. You’re going to stroke it with those soft little hands of yours while I pump your cunt with my fingers. Understand?”

“I think so—” He didn’t let her finish the sentence, covering her mouth with his own in a savage kiss as his hand dove under her skirts again, unerringly finding the slit of her drawers to immediately circle the budding pearl of her sex. Gasping at the abrupt attack, Iris fumbled with the buttons of Clarke’s trousers, intent on not being left behind.

I’ll prove that I can please him.

The engorged stalk of his arousal leapt into her palm, scalding her with its heat. Thick and long, it matched its owner’s enormous size, and for the first time, Iris wondered if perhaps Clarke didn’t have a point about going slow with her. It seemed outrageous that he’d fit inside her. His massive cock and her tiny body—they appeared incompatible.

I’ll concern myself with logistics later.

For now, they were on borrowed time as Jimmy drove them down a deserted street, and Iris hesitantly began stroking Clarke.

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