She made a curious movement toward her niece, then suddenly, convulsively, she dabbed down something lumpy on the table and turned to follow her brother. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she panted, shifting wildly in his hold, so that he had all to do to keep her thus imprisoned. On the orders of Mr Jarvis, that were. She wanted him, she needed sex, but the two ideas had not formed an equation where a concrete result could be deduced. Lucy was filled with happiness, it was her third Christmas at the Becks. He advanced a step towards her.
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