Naughty Irish Heart by Abby Knox

Author:Abby Knox [Knox, Abby]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Author Abby Knox. LLC
Published: 2019-03-14T16:00:00+00:00

10

1871

Annie

It was the morning after her party and she could still feel Will’s lips against hers.

He was her first kiss.

Her first everything.

Annie rode Betsy in the early morning hours to get him out of her system. But a part of her knew that was impossible, because the moment she realized he was not in the stable this morning, her heart sank. And it wasn’t just because she wanted to revisit their embrace from last night.

She just wanted to be in his presence.

As much as he infuriated her, called her a princess, implied that she was spoiled and ungrateful, she knew he wasn’t completely wrong. Because even though he saw those things, he also saw the real her. The flesh and blood woman whose soul was dying, cooped up in that house.

He sees me, she thought.

This was the phrase that she heard in her head and matched to the sounds of Betsy’s galloping.

It was joyful and sad at the same time.

Annie knew Mother and Father would never approve the match.

We cannot be together, we are completely doomed, she thought.

But not even the happiness she experienced on the back of a horse could get her mind off of Will.

The innocent flirtation had become something else. Something else was happening. Opening up. Waking up.

She was not sure she should like it. It was unladylike to enjoy such things, just as it was unladylike to enjoy touching herself alone in her bedroom.

Frustrated, Annie rode the mare back to the stable while the morning was still dark, praying that she would not see Will, even though everything in her body was demanding to see him.

She needed some relief, but she didn’t want to wake anybody by going back up to her room right away.

So, she sneaked around to the carriage house and climbed into the velvet seats of the open carriage.

There, alone, in the dark, she lifted her skirts to find the source of her physical ache.

She knew it was wrong; she should go straight to her room and try not to think about the throbbing between her thighs. But Mother would be there to wake her soon.

She lifted her petticoats and tugged open the slitted crotch in her knickers.

She didn’t totally understand what her body was telling her to do, but then as soon as her fingers slid between her folds, she did understand. She was wet down there. Soaked. And when she rubbed herself there, it felt…so good.

Incredibly good, actually.

As she rubbed away the ache, she suddenly encountered a strange, tiny little bump. A button.

Curious, Annie pressed down on it and a flood of excitement shot through her, so much deeper than when she would pinch her own nipples.

I should feel ashamed at what I’m doing, she thought. I’m sure this falls within the realm of “pleasures of the flesh” that our uppity Protestant pastor seems hell bent on hammering home nearly every Sunday in his hour-long sermons.

Annie closed her eyes as she continued to rub herself and all she saw was Will. In her mind’s eye, he was doing this to her, for her.

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