![]() She did not know what love was, but it could not be this. He saw her, he looked right into her soul and he knew her, knew what she wanted in a husband, what she wanted in her life, and he listened to her when she talked about it, about what she did not know and what she wished, and he. It was not love, of that she could be certain, because love between them was impossible - he was rude, a rake, a womanizer, a. He stole her breath with his mere presence. She thought about the tingles and tumbles that went through her belly when she was in his presence, so similar to the tingles and tumbles she had felt as her fingers moved through the slickness, how her body had felt on the edge, much like when his eyes locked onto hers, and the little breaths. She thought about how close they would dance, when he held her body close to his. She thought about the way he looked at her when they spoke, as though he truly saw her. The way his fingers brushed at her back, the top of her dress as he held her close. Not there, of course, but-Įach time their hands touched, although through her gloves. ![]() There had to have been breakfast, and tea, and there was a dress appointment, and a ride to the ball, but the only thing she could remember was the feeling of her fingers sliding between her folds, touching a part of her body that she had never before explored, and thinking of Simon. From the moment she had woken up, to the very point of standing at the top of the stairs, nothing came to mind. ![]() Daphne could remember no part of her day.
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