She led Charlotte back to the pianoforte without elaboration.Are we going to play again?Charlotte wondered, with a twinge of dismay, but her disappointment soon vanished when Mary pushed her against the lid, the wood hard and unyielding against her back, the pain of the pressure adding to the pleasure. Her gasp was cut off by Mary’s mouth, meeting hers in a frantic, searing kiss. Mary pressed her body between Charlotte’s legs, her hands frantic at the hem of the skirts lifting them up to the shin, the knee, fingers skimming over Charlotte’s knees and then her thighs. Charlotte was on fire, writhing under Mary’s touch, her body in ecstasy and Mary’s fingers were stroking Charlotte’s inner thigh, close to where the flame burned brightest and—
Mary’s hands stilled.
“Please,” Charlotte gasped, “don’t stop.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course.”
“Then let me take the lead, darling. You’ll like this.” In the candlelight, Mary’s smile was the curve of a scythe, ready to harvest all that had been sown. “I promise.”
She dropped to her knees and licked a long, slow stripe up the inside of Charlotte’s thigh. Charlotte was already quivering, with no idea of what might come next. “What—what are you doing?”
“I want to worship you. May I?”
Charlotte nodded, and Mary bent her head devoutly, her mouth level with a part of Charlotte that a mouth had never touched before. Mary could not possibly mean to kiss her there, could she?
She could.
She did.
Charlotte slapped a hand over her own mouth, quelling an undignified shriek as Mary’s tongue worked its magic. The sounds turned to moans, spilling like candlelight, pooling in the ridges and furrows of her throat. Her other hand scrabbled uselessly at the smooth lid of the pianoforte, finding no purchase on the polished wood. She was babbling, she knew, though she hardly knew what she was saying in between gasps and groans, and before long she felt the ache rising, the crest of the now familiar wave building to a white-crested peak of sweet agony.
When she finished, her legs were shaking so badly she could barely stand. Mary caught her weight, and supported her over to the couch. “Good heavens,” Charlotte whispered.
Mary held her close, stroking Charlotte’s cheek with gentle fingers. “I confess I’ve wanted to do that since the first moment I saw you again. It has played no small role in my dreams.”
They lay together on the couch. Mary seemed half drowsy with contentment, a look of satisfaction on her face, but Charlottehad no wish to be an ungenerous lover. “Shall I return the favour?” said she, dropping a quick kiss onto Mary’s cheek.
Rarely had Mary looked so surprised. “Oh, not if you do not—I mean, not all women like to give as well as receive.”
“I want to.”
Mary hesitated, excitement flickering in her dark eyes. “Really?”
Charlotte tilted her head, puzzled by the back-and-forth. “Why, did your former lover not do so?”
“Well, no,” Mary admitted. “Often things were based around her pleasure and not mine. I am afraid I rather felt like that was my purpose.”
“I will not deny that your performance was magnificent,” Charlotte said, sliding onto her knees and hooking her thumbs under Mary’s skirts, “and that my own is likely to be the equivalent of a penny whistle played after the harmony of a full orchestra.” Mary snorted, the slight nervousness fading. “But I am nothing if not fair, Mary Bennet. And I intend to give generously.” She hiked the skirt up slowly, dragging her fingers over Mary’s flesh, causing her lover to suck in air with a gasp. “Pray allow me to become as proficient as you.”
“That might require a little practice.” Mary’s voice wasn’t quite steady, and the hand grasping the couch cushion was pale-knuckled.
“One must apply oneself,” Charlotte said, her lips twitching, as she pushed Mary’s skirts back, revealing the treasure she desired, “in order to get what one wants. Is that not so?”
She bent her head as Mary had done and nuzzled the soft flesh there, trailing kisses. The motion really did feel like devotion, in a way—connecting with something holy and unreal, her body thrumming with energy that could not all be her own.
“Faster, darling,” Mary gasped, her mouth open, her head thrown back in ecstasy. “Please. I cannot wait.” Charlotte obeyed, and was rewarded with Mary’s thighs twitching aroundher. “A little to the left, please,” was all Mary managed between incoherent moans, before Charlotte felt fingers tightening in her hair to the point of almost-pain, and she gave an appreciative hum as her own muscles twinged in sympathetic response. The sound seemed to send Mary over the edge, shuddering against Charlotte’s mouth, pressing a closed fist against her mouth to stifle a cry.
“Well,” said she, after she had caught her breath. “Though I do not think you need much practice, I would be more than happy to oblige.” The joke was covering something deeper, for Mary’s eyes were bright. Charlotte wriggled onto the couch, tugging Mary closer, and was not surprised when a few tears spattered her bosom. “I’m sorry,” Mary added, her voice muffled. “I don’t know quite what has come over me. You were wonderful.”
“I know what it is to feel overwhelmed,” Charlotte reminded her. “Especially when one’s deepest desires are finally acknowledged and reciprocated.”
“I suppose you are right.” Mary lifted her head, looking anxious. “Was it… I mean, did you enjoy it?”
Charlotte took Mary’s hand and led it under her skirts, to where she pooled excitement. “What do you think? Is that confirmation enough?”
“Oh,” she breathed, and began to move, but Charlotte stopped her.
