In His Pocket: The Arcanist's Ward (Mystic Sins of the Regency Book 1)

by California Dawes

  She was somewhere public, certainly. When the connection lit up he felt her heart race faster and a blush creep up her beautiful cheeks. In his study, Christopher grinned. He wondered just how good she could be in front of her friends while he was enjoying her beneath her skirts.

  He pressed himself to her unseen entrance and to his surprise he found Verity as wet and aroused as she had been last night. That little minx! Perhaps she did want it as much as he did. Perhaps it was as the philosophers said, and for every man there was his other half, his perfect mate out there somewhere. He buried himself in the wet warmth of her pleasure mound and thought no more of philosophers or even of magic. In his study, Christopher let out a low groan of bliss. His Verity was truly Heaven on Earth.

  She stayed as still as a statue, which was just as well to him, allowing him greater control in position, depth, and speed. This time it was not like their first night, where he had been tender and attentive. This time it was a test of resolve, of will. He wanted to see if she truly meant she was happy to accommodate him anywhere and at any time. Christopher plunged into her again and again, relishing the feel of his willing captive, wherever she might be.

  Verity bit her lip and worked hard to keep her breathing in check. She’d had some little warning of Christopher’s intentions when the pendant began to warm and glow against her skin, but she had not expected him to… get down to the business at hand… so rapidly. And at that moment, she had been right in the middle of telling a hilarious tale to a handful of ladies at a bridge luncheon!

  She hadn’t realized she had frozen so perfectly still until one woman, Mercy Forrester, leaned over and looked at her with grave concern.

  “Are you quite alright my dear?”

  Verity tried to laugh and shake it off as nothing.

  “Quite fine, yes. I just… am suddenly so very tired. I had a terrible time getting to sleep last night and I’m afraid it’s left me a bit,” she gasped as she felt Christopher begin thrusting in earnest. “A bit peaky.”

  “Oh, you poor dear. Would you like to have a lie down in the rear parlor? I’m certain no one would mind a bit if you did.”

  The other ladies nodded their heads, but Verity smiled and declined. Feeling Christopher using her in such a carnal fashion whilst she entertained a group of ladies who remained completely unaware of her true situation was, Verity had to admit, extremely arousing. She felt flushed and already close to climax herself.

  “Are you certain, Verity? You look like you’re burning up!”

  Verity waved off the concern and giggled again, sounding a bit fevered. “I just need another glass of your cook’s delicious lemonade,” she said, and the others nodded in agreement and called for another pitcher of lemonade to be brought out with some other light refreshments.

  She was proud to note that she made it through the entirety of her story and halfway through the listening of someone else’s tale next before she felt Christopher’s thrusts shorten and speed up. He was throbbing inside her, close to bursting. Verity bit her lip and hid her face behind her fan on a pretense of waving off the stuffy air of the bridge parlor as Christopher filled her once again with every drop of his hot seed.

  “Might I make use of your powder room?” She inquired calmly and politely once she was certain he had finished. Her entire body hummed with need.

  Once safely out of view of the others, Verity was able to bring herself to much-needed climax, thinking of her devious and delicious Christopher all the while. If he asked it of her, she would happily lounge at his feet in a harem-girl’s outfit and service him whenever he required. As it was, at least with their current arrangement she could still keep up on the latest news around town and win a few rounds of whist while they were at it.

  He took her three more times that day while she was out, and each time felt better than the last. The final round, at the dinner table with Elizabeth and her family, took her so out of the present moment that she actually moaned aloud in front of everyone, over the cheese and dessert course!

  “Myyyy God, oh, Elizabeth. This tarte tatin is simply… breathtaking. Wherever did you get the recipe?”

  Elizabeth, who knew perfectly well that her cook’s tarte tatin was only mediocre and that furthermore her cousin was not the biggest fan of apple desserts in the first place, narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

  “What do you like best about it, Verity dear?” She asked sweetly.

  “The… appley bits.” Verity replied. “Might I make use of your powder room?”

  Elizabeth would not be deterred. She had caught the scent of something Incredibly Interesting afoot. Just as everyone was saying their good-byes and Verity was about to climb into her carriage for the evening, Elizabeth pulled her aside on the pretense of helping her straighten her bonnet.

  “Verity Gibbs, what in the world has you so bewitched?”

  “Lizzy, whatever do you mean?” Verity did her best to sound tired, exasperated, and clueless as to her cousin’s meaning.

  “I mean, this is the happiest and yet most distracted I have seen you in quite some time, and I know certainly well that a tarte tatin that utterly basic does not elicit that sort of audible praise from anyone, least of all you! You don’t even like apples!”

  “La, it was a very well-baked tarte tatin, Lizzy,” Verity said, kissing her cousin chastely on the cheek. She leaned in closer and whispered, “Patience, dear cousin. All shall be revealed in its time.” Straightening up she added in a louder voice for the benefit of the other departing guests: “I shall call upon you later in the week! Good-night!”

  Then she slipped from Elizabeth’s grasp and into her carriage before her cousin could contrive to ensnare her with any further questions.

  Chapter Eight

  So followed two weeks of being the secret plaything of Christopher Windham in broad daylight (and nighttime), under the noses of everyone. He made use of her when she was shopping, when she carried out social obligations, when she was taking her exercise in the park. Once, he even took her at the breakfast table in the very spot where he had first given her the amulet on her birthday.

  “More hot chocolate, Miss Gibbs?” The maid had offered.

  “Yes, more please,” Verity had gasped out with such intensity that the maid had worried about it all the rest of that day. Meanwhile, Christopher had her bending herself over every stick of furniture in the house between breakfast and bedtime.

  That birthday breakfast where here offered her the amulet seemed to her to be so very long ago when she thought on it, though in reality it had been less than a month. Two weeks had sped by for the both of them as if in a dream and yet, much like a dream, it simultaneously seemed to have stretched on for the length of a lifetime.

  When the appointed final day of their “test” arrived, Christopher sent word for Verity to meet him out in the rose garden that morning. She clothed herself in her prettiest frock of pale blue, which emphasized her eyes and brought springtime to her cheeks.

  “Verity, you are a vision, as ever,” Christopher greeted her when she found him in the garden among the pink and red blossoms. She blushed prettily.

  “I’m proud to do my guardian credit,” she replied cheekily.

  “As you know, our two week agreement is at an end,” he continued, getting right to the point. Verity bit her lip. They had had a great amount of fun together but, what if he didn’t want to continue? What if he was bored with her? What if— “I should very much like to continue our current course, if that is in line with your own wishes?” He asked.

  Verity drew in a sharp breath of surprise and then nodded eagerly.

  “That is quite in line with my own wishes, Christopher,” she said. “Save for one small detail…”

  She did not have to finish, for Christopher was already bending down to one knee and holding up another jewelry box for her. Verity’s eyes sparkled with sheer joy.

  “Verity Gibbs, my angel, my delight. Would you do me the greatest honor of marrying me?”<
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  “Christopher Windham, I certainly will!” Verity said before throwing her arms around Christopher’s neck and letting out a shriek of delighted laughter as he swung her around and kissed her passionately.

  After he had placed the engagement ring upon her finger and the pair of them had relaxed into a happy stroll through the gardens arm in arm, Christopher glanced sidelong at his new fiancé and said: “So, which time did you enjoy the most, my love?”

  Verity grinned as she contemplated every scandalous instance of ardent delight.

  “There were so many exquisite moments,” she began. “Not least of which was our first time, when I lay by my fire with the knowledge that you were just down the hall and still within me at the same time. But that said, I do believe my favorite moment was when you haunted me in the middle of the Crowleys’ masquerade ball. Right when I was sharing a dance with young Timothy Crowley! The poor lamb thought it was his terrible dancing that had me shivering and distracted, and I had to make up a story about needing some air.”

  “And did you get any air?”

  “I did, indeed. I found a quiet unlit balcony and leaned up against the wall of the house and succumbed to your will while not three meters away some other couple enjoyed each other on a different balcony!”

  They shared a laugh and pressed closer together as they walked.

  “Masquerade ball… I shall have to remember that,” Christopher said.

  “You shall have plenty of time to think upon it, sir,” Verity said with a mischievous sparkle in her eye.

  “Is that so? Why do I suspect you have something planned, Verity?”

  “Why, Christopher. Our arrangement was a two-week test to decide upon our marital fate. As we have concluded our test and sealed our engagement with a kiss…” She slipped her hand in and out of his coat pocket so quickly that he scarcely realized she had moved at all, until she triumphantly held up the enchanted bangle. “You will have no further use for this until we are formally wed.”

  Christopher stared open-mouthed at her and laughed in disbelief.

  “Oh, come now Verity, that is simply too cruel.”

  But Verity only smiled with charming wickedness and secreted the bangle away. She stood on her tip-toes to whisper into Christopher’s ear: “Perhaps, but just think… how very cross will you be with me by the time you get this back? And how very pent-up will you be? And how much will you want to take it out on me and put me back in my rightful place at your feet?”

  A flush of arousal washed over Christopher and he gripped her close.

  “You play very dangerous games, my love,” he growled into her ear in a way that made her practically swoon. “I believe that is one of your qualities that I love the most.”

  So understanding each other, Verity and Christopher returned to Crossfox Hall to begin planning the rest of their lives together—even when half a world apart. And Christopher vowed to himself that once he had the key to Verity back in his pocket, he would never let it leave his hands again.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

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