In Pursuit of a Bluestocking by Renee Dahlia

Author:Renee Dahlia
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Escape Publishing

Chapter 13

The train hissed as it pulled into Gare du Nord. Dawn was still an hour away, and the first streaks of colour had yet to appear. Marie tucked the pillow over her head as the train came to a halt. The clang of carriages and jolts as the train stopped forced her out of her comfortable sleep. This tiny bed crammed in the side of the sleeper carriage was surprisingly comfortable. Or perhaps, she grinned slyly to herself, perhaps it was the unexpectedly wonderful sex with Gordon. She squirmed under the blanket, warmth between her legs as she remembered last night. She’d never imagined that the act could be so ferocious. Fast. Fabulous. Those frantic moments had smashed their way over her memories of Bertrand. She hugged herself and rolled onto her back. Bland Bertrand—Claire had been correct. Compared to last night, her previous experiences with Bertrand had been boring. Him quietly grunting over her under the cover of darkness and blankets. It did leave her with one problem though. She wanted Gordon again. She could get addicted to that power. Her body ached a little from the bruising experience. But that made her wet as she remembered. His strength, the weighty feel of his hair between her fingers, the glorious, overwhelming passion in the moment. The woodland smell of him surrounding her. A forest of sensation with hints of nutmeg.

She let a shiver of passion quiver over her body. Her fingers twitched, tempted to touch herself under the blanket. The bed below her shifted. A pair of heavily muscled, hairy legs slid over the edge. She felt her eyes widen as Gordon stood. Naked. It was such a shame that it was still mostly dark. She pressed the palm of her hand to her curls. Thrilled and amazed that such a thought could enter her brain. Yesterday’s experience with Gordon had changed her. Almost as though she’d gone from naïve virgin to seeing the full possibility of the human relationship. She shook her head. She’d gone crazy. She wasn’t a virgin before yesterday. Just naïve. Or ignorantly unaware of the full potential in the act.

Awareness. That’s what she felt now. She could hear Gordon moving around their tiny cabin. The pull of fabric as he got dressed. Every rustle of his clothes as he put them on seemed to touch her own skin. Little spears of desire rippled over her skin. Up her arms and down her front. Her nipples hardened as her whole body came alive. She traced her quim with her index finger and shivered as sensation burst through her.

‘Ow. Shit.’ Gordon swore in the dark and Marie pinched her lips together to stop an unconscious giggle. She reluctantly removed her hand from her explorations and rolled over to look at him.

‘Are you injured?’ she said.

‘Yes. I’m bloody injured.’ That giggle tried to escape again. Not because he was hurt, goodness no. Because his indignant tone spoke volumes in response to her obvious question.

‘Can I help?’

‘No. It’s not serious.

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