“I believe Trent wanted me to teach you some things…” Mary began hesitantly.
“What sort of things?”
“About pleasure.” She held up a hand when Charlotte began to sputter. “But since you’ve no interest in learning, perhaps we can talk.” She pushed Charlotte’s shoulder so that she reclined against the back of the tub. Charlotte’s breasts rose just above the water, and she settled deeper into the tub, until they were hidden. “Perfect,” Mary said on a whisper, not drawing her gaze from Charlotte’s breasts.
“There is nothing perfect about my body.”
“That’s what your husband told you?” She arched her delicate blond brows at Charlotte.
Charlotte obviously didn’t have to answer, because Mary just continued. “He was wrong.” She looked directly into Charlotte’s face when she said it.
“My hips are too wide. My breasts too small.” He’d said that and more. Much more. Each statement more hurtful than the next.
Mary’s hand dipped into the water and cupped one breast in a sudsy grip. “Your breast fills my hand,” she said quietly. “Look.”
Charlotte looked down hesitant to verify that Mary’s hand did, indeed, cup her breast in a firm, comfortable grip. Her husband’s grip had never been firm or comfortable. It had always hurt. Or shamed. And one was just as bad as the other.
“Stop thinking about him,” Mary whispered with a soft smile. “Think about me. About the way this feels.” She slowly stroked her thumb through the suds on Charlotte’s breast. Mary was all Charlotte could think about. Mary’s hand, Mary’s gentle touch, Mary’s soft voice, Mary’s silky tone. “ Have you ever reached climax?” Mary asked.
Charlotte had enough married friends who talked to know what climax was. But she wasn’t certain she’d ever had the pleasure. Mary laughed. “If you’re not certain, it never happened,” she said. Then, her voice a silky whisper, she prompted, “I can help you try it, just this once. No pressure. No man pushing you on. Just you and me.” She took Charlotte’s hand and cupped it around her other breast. “Touch yourself,” she urged.
This was wrong. So wrong. But Charlotte’s blood was thumping so loudly in her ears that she could hear it. “Something is happening to my body that I don’t understand.”
“I know,” Mary whispered. Her free hand dipped into the water between Charlotte’s legs.
“Don’t,” she cried. Charlotte clamped her legs closed tightly together trapping Mary’s hands in its place above her curls. She sat forward, causing her breasts to rise above the water.
“Relax,” the woman whispered. Then her head dipped and she drew Charlotte’s wet nipple into her mouth.
Heat immediately rushed through Charlotte’s body, a heat unlike any she’d ever felt before. She melted there in the bath, as Mary’s wicked little tongue tick l ed her nipple. Then she moved to the other breast, treating it in the same gentle manner. Charlotte relaxed, freeing Mary’s hand. When Mary lifted her head, Charlotte arched her back, wanting to pull her back down to her breasts. But then her hand began to play in Charlotte’s curls, and Charlotte’s breath caught in her throat. With her gentle, silky fingers, she parted Charlotte’s folds and stole inside, stroking across that part of her that pounded.
“Oh, goodness,” Charlotte cried, laying her head back against the tub. She watched the satisfied smirk on Mary’s face, and didn’t care. Because what she was doing between her thighs was so deliciously wicked that she wouldn’t dare complain. This was what His Grace wanted. This was what His Grace would get. Just this once, she would allow herself this pleasure.
“Can it be this way with a man?” she asked quietly, a little sob in her voice that made her want to cringe. But the moment passed with the next pass across that nub.
“With the right man, yes,” Mary affirmed. “It can be better. It will be better with Trent than you could ever imagine. He’s a patient and powerful lover.”
The word powerful seemed out of place. She didn’t want a powerful man. She wanted this gentle woman.
“I’m here to show you what’s possible. Nothing more,” Mary reminded her.
Charlotte simply nodded, words escaping her. Mary’s hand continued its gentle exploration. One finger stole inside her, and then slid out just as quickly, taking Charlotte’s breath with it. That finger slipped through the heat of her, and then she used it to stroke across the little nub that was nearly so tender it was painful. In a very good way.
“That feels nice?” Mary asked. Charlotte watched her through hooded lashes, her head back on the edge of the tub.
Charlotte began to arch her hips, rising to meet that questing little hand. Mary chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she laughed.
But then she stopped. She withdrew her hand. She stood up. Charlotte very nearly begged her to come back. But all good things must end, Charlotte assumed. “Come along,” Mary urged as she held out a towel. “I want to taste you,” she whispered to Charlotte as she dried her off.
“T-taste me?” Charlotte’s voice quaked.
“Yes,” Mary whispered, her lips a mere breath from hers. “Kiss me,” she dared with a smile. Then she touched her lips to Charlotte’s. Charlotte tentatively brushed her lips against Mary’s, keeping her lips closed and firm. “Soften for me,” Mary urged on a whisper. “My lips are soft. Yours can be, too. Open,” she commanded, and then the tip of her tongue teased at Charlotte’s lips. On Charlotte’s gasp, she swept inside, invading her mouth like a conquering warrior. She stepped forward, backing Charlotte toward the bed as she continued to wreak havoc on her senses. “I worried you would rebel,” she said when she finally lifted her head.
Charlotte had to drag herself from the passion induced haze she was in so she could respond. “I did, too.” A shiver stole up her body. “I should.”
Mary sounded much too cocky when she laughed and said, “But you won’t.” She pointed toward the bed. “Lay back.”
Charlotte scurried across the bed, and lay back, resting on her elbows, not at all ashamed of her nakedness. Not now. Not now that Mary had tasted her breasts. Not since she’d had her hands in the most private places she had. Now there was nothing to be ashamed of.
“You want me to make you climax,” Mary said as she lifted the edge of her dress and climbed up on the bed.
“Can you take this off?” Charlotte asked, fingering the soft material of her skirt.
Mary sighed heavily. “Alas, I am not allowed to find pleasure. Unless my master give s it to me.” She brushed Charlotte’s hair from the side of her face. “Perhaps another time, we’ll ask for permission and we can pleasure each other. With our men in the room. Watching.” She nibbled on Charlotte’s lower lip between each word, licking into her, the same way her finger had dipped into the cavern of her heat a moment before.
“Watching?” Charlotte gasped. She probably sounded like an addled parrot. But she didn’t care.
She shrugged. “They like to watch.” She looked down at Charlotte’s breasts and cupped one in each firm hand, lifting their small weight to her lips. “These really are perfect, you know,” she said as she sucked one nipple into her mouth. She played about the other with the pad of her thumb, until Charlotte was trembling in her grasp, her head hanging back, her breaths leaving her in gasps. Then she dropped her breasts and began a slow and leisurely lick down toward her curls.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to taste you,” Mary laughed.
“Down there?” Certainly, that wasn’t what she meant.
She laughed again, still that silky sound that made Charlotte even wetter.
Without stopping, Mary parted her folds and looked down at her. Charlotte, for a moment, wanted to hide herself in shame. But then one long finger slid inside her a nd she licked across that little nub of pleasure. Charlotte nearly leapt from the bed. But then she stilled and watched, her mouth hanging open in surprise. This was what it was all about? This tender, soft touch? It could be like this? She licked faster, and faster, and Charlotte found herself arching to meet her. She reached down and brushed the hair from Mary’s brow with a tender touch.
“A cock can feel this nice, too.” Mary lifted her head long enough to say, “You needed this.”
“ I did need this.” Tears burned at the backs of her lashes. Tears for all the years she’d lost. Tears for the man who’d sought to please her by giving her this lady. Tears for this woman, who gave so selflessly.
“Don’t cry,” Mary said, pressing a kiss to Charlotte’s inner thigh. Her thumb took over her tongue’s wicked little movements, and one finger joined the other already inside her. Charlotte pressed back against the gentle invasion. Then Mary crooked a finger, and swept it against some part of her she didn’t know existed.
“Oh, God,” Charlotte cried. “Please don’t stop,” she begged. Something was taking over her body. Her legs were trembling. Her bottom was arching in rhythm with those searching fingers. Her legs lay open, giving Mary all the access she needed. Then Mary latched onto that little nub of sensation with her mouth, and alternated between licking and suckling gently. And when she found a rhythm between the licking and suckling, waves of pleasure crashed over Charlotte’s body, stealing her very soul from her in that moment. She melted and quivered as she climaxed. As Mary wrung all the pleasure from her body. It was only when Charlotte pulled away, a little too sensitive for more stimulation, that Mary slowed. Then she stopped. She pulled her fingers from Charlotte’s sopping wet sheath, wiped them on the nearby towel and joined Charlotte on the bed.
Charlotte lay there beside her quivering, weakness seeking into her limbs as her heartbeat slowed to normal. She covered her eyes with her forearm. “I didn’t know it could be like that,” she whispered, her voice cracking on the last. Tears seeped from beneath her arm, she knew. But that was the most beautiful things she’d ever experienced. “Thank you,” she sobbed, rolling toward Mary. Mary let her rest her head on her shoulder, and stroked her hair as she quieted, her sobs becoming gentle hiccups.
“You’re welcome,” she said quickly, dropping a kiss on her forehead. Then she patted Charlotte’s bare bottom. “We need to get you dressed. Trent will be here momentarily.”
Charlotte didn’t feel like she could move.
“Up,” Mary coaxed. Then she got up herself and began to roll a clean pair of stockings over Charlotte’s feet and up her calves. It tickled when she got to her thighs. But she tied the garters in place and rolled her over. She popped Charlotte’s bottom hard enough to sting.
“Ow,” Charlotte cried. But it hadn’t hurt. She got up and allowed Mary to finish dressing her.