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.
“Who chose these clothes?” Charlotte asked.
“Someone on His Grace’s staff. He probably went directly to your dressmaker to have something new made.” Mary’s eyes met Charlotte’s. “You’re a fortunate woman. He does not take lovers casually, despite his reputation. He sees something in you.”
“You saw something in me,” Charlotte prompted hesitantly.
She tweaked her nose. “Because you’re something special to see.”
When Charlotte was all dressed, she spun to face the looking glass. “Do I look all right for him?”
“You look beautiful.” Mary bobbed a quick curtsy. “Thank you for letting me serve you tonight, my lady,” she said with a cheeky grin.
“Have you any idea where he’s taking me?”
But Mary didn’t answer. Instead, she slipped out the door as though she’d never been there. Only the smile on Charlotte’s face was evidence. A moment later, a knock sounded on the door. “ I’m here to dress your hair, miss,” a maid called out. She didn’t enter the room. Perhaps she knew what had been going on in the room. Charlotte hoped not.
“Enter,” Charlotte called absently. The girl dressed her hair, fluffed her dress and informed her that His Grace was waiting below stairs for her.
When she opened the door, she went to the top of the stairs, and found His Grace standing at the bottom, glancing at his time piece with a worried expression. “I hope you enjoyed your bath,” he said revealing none of the mirth or scorn she’d expected to see on his face. “And that everything was to your agreement.”
Heat suffused her face. “It was.”
He held out his crooked arm.
“Your Grace,” she began.
“Trent,” he said with a small smile. “I give you leave to use it.”
“Where are we going, Trent?”
“The Duke and Duchess of Charburton are having a gathering.”
Charlotte tripped over her own slipper. “The duke and duchess?”
“Yes,” he teased. “Don’t worry. It’s very informal.”
When arrived at the duke’s manor house, the duke and duchess met the hosts at the door. Her Grace was a regal creature, with her tumbling golden curls piled high atop her head. Her neck arched delicately to reveal naked shoulders and a beautiful dip in her bodice. It wasn’t until she l ooked directly into the duchess’ s eyes that she got the shock of a lifetime. “Your Grace,” Charlotte sputtered. She dropped into a quick curtsy.
“Call me Mary, dear. We’ll be great friends, I’m certain.” Her eyes sparkled and shone. And Charlotte’s heart flipped over in her chest.
Trent chuckled lightly from behind her. “Great friends, indeed.”
