Her eyes threatened to leak tears, she blinked. “Sir John!” Annabel gasped. Whenever ecstasy— any kind of ecstasy—filled her heart to bursting, these physical expressions eased the pressure. Suppose our proper place is a shrine. In the middle there was a gate. He wants you—or he doesn’t; and then he helps some other woman against you. “I can’t endure it,” she said.
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