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“Poor thing,” Lizzie’s voice is a slurred murmur in Rupert’s ear, her breath sweet with dessert wine. In his periphery, she nods to the object of his focus—his angel, smiling in the doorway as she watches Valerie Jones’ latest crop of victims moan over her chocolate torte. “She’s never had an orgasm, can you believe that?”
“And at her age…” Rupert clicks his tongue and lifts Lizzie’s hand to his mouth. He brushes his lips over her knuckles in thanks for the ammunition she doesn’t even realize she’s handed him, grinning when she huffs and snatches it back. “Such a tragedy.”
———
Taggie O’Hara doesn’t believe in the female orgasm.
Or, she didn’t. Not until Lizzie Vereker popped into her kitchen one drizzly morning with a dozen cassette tapes and a Walkman. Now, with Lizzie’s audiobook romances to guide her, a bright new world opens up before Taggie: one where a woman’s pleasure isn’t just a well-acted bit of theater for a man’s enjoyment, but an attainable, desirable, real thing.
Well, it would be if Taggie could just make it happen—with her hands, with a toy, with the corner of the Priory’s rickety old washing machine. Anything.
Bookmarked by WinteringFox
18 Dec 2024