A/N: I thought, since Dickon's thoughts of Mary are clean, what it would be like if his thoughts were a little… dirty…
Disclaimer: The Secret Garden is wonderful but danggit not mine!
He couldn't stand there watching as she bent down, shoving the shovel down into the dirt making sure that the hole was just the right size to put the beautiful flower in. It was torture. It was evil.
How can any man stand really to survey a beautiful, sexy woman without pouncing on her delicate figure, wanting to ravish her body inside and out? How can they?
Dickson could. He has been for years now ever since Miss Mary has come back from her boarding school in London. There she blossomed into a wonderful young goddess, making every full blooded male want her.
What was it that caught their eyes? Was it her long, brown curls that flowed down her curvaceous? Or her brown empowering eyes that could bore into you? Maybe it was her cheeks that when she laughed they became a painted color of red or perhaps her rosy pink lips, so full and kissable. Perchance it was the way her round full breasts hiked up when laughing or just taking a deep breath, and the way her tight bottom stuck up when digging a hole in the ground to plant a little seedling.
He didn't know why he was thinking such improper thoughts but he did wish it would stop. He didn't want Miss Mary to see him almost explode from frustration.
Dickon took in everything that was Mary.
She had decided earlier to help him the in garden despite his protests. Now instead of working like he should be, helping her out to water the new buds that started blooming, he just sat back observed her body, form, spirit, and mind.
Mary lifted herself off the dirty soil to wipe her hands on her newly yellow sundress, not giving a care to what she looked like.
Dickon thought she was the most beautiful site he's ever seen even with dirt on her nose.
Her hair lay uneven, spraying all over the place and reaching past her waist.
"Dickon," she called, bending down in front of him to pick up the rotten shovel and exposing him of her breasts.
Dickon felt his face blush and couldn't stop staring at Miss Mary's perky bosom.
"Yea?" he squeaked.
She turned with confusion to his tone of unnatural voice, "Um are you ok?"
He nodded feeling himself grow hot with lust. Oh how he wanted to take her then and there.
"Alright then, will you help me undress?"
Dickson shook his head, closing his eyes and opening them again before seeing Mary even more confused, "Aye, what thy say?"
"I said could you help me put the tools away…"
"Aye, sure then," his voice came out husky and he carried the tools off with him.
"Oh and Dickon," Mary called from the swing she swung upon. Dickon gave her a questionable look. Mary took a breath, "Your um… your… zipper is … um…"
She pointed her head down hoping he'd get the message.
Dickon shot his head down fast, realizing that his fly of his dirtied trousers was undone, showing off all thing man to Mary.
He turned away, quickly fastening the darn exposure and turned back to see Mary blushing.
Dickon stared at her dress skirt, wondering what it would be like to pull it up and…
"Dickon!"
Dickson snapped out of his daydreaming and blinked his eyes at Mary who somehow had gotten closer to him, almost a foot away.
"What is it Miss Mary?"
She smiled evilly like she had a rotten plan up her feathered sleeve, "Dickon, do you ever wonder what it would be like to… be forward?"
"Forward?" he whimpered as she swayed her hips towards him, making the distance between them no longer.
"Yes, forward," her mint breath haunted his nose and mind. She fingered his jaw with her index finger, rolling it down and Dickon moaned at her touch.
"Why… Miss Mary," he started panting feeling his pants become tight, "would you ask a question?"
She stood on her tippytoes to be eye level with him, "So I could do this."
Mary kissed him square on the mouth, just for a moment it was sweet and gentle.
But Dickon would have none of that.
He pushed Mary against the wall and planted another kiss, more forceful then the one before. Mary had wrapped her arms around his sweaty head, making sure he didn't slip away from her. Dickon placed his rough hands on her tiny waist as they battled their tongues together, never loosing contact.
Dickon heard Mary moan in the back of her throat and made his hands up toward her breast, cupping them and giving them a squeeze.
"Dickon, please… don't stop…"
He didn't even though he knew he should. It wasn't right but it felt so good.
She grinded against his hips making sure he knew what she wanted.
He continued to kiss her, as she still tangled her hands in his hair, hiking her skirt a little so she would have more exposure.
Dickon took his time, running his hands all over her, planting kisses down her jaw making Mary whimper with pleasure. "I need you!" she practically yelled.
He lifted her skirt more to grab her panties that were underneath. But before he could do such a thing he heard a yell from the far off distance, "Dickon! Mary!"
It was Colin.
Dickon let Mary go as they tried to make themselves look presentable.
Colin came in the garden with a happy cheer on his face, "Mary, Dickon there you are! Supper's ready, come eat. I'm sure you'll guys with just burn up from the hot meal we're having."
Dickon took a glance at Mary to see her thinking the same thing he was.
Colin left, Mary in trail behind him until she turned giving Dickon a wink and whispering, "We'll continue this tonight…"
Dickon groaned and tried to calm himself down knowing that he'll have to be patient.