Forbidden Love (Sapphic Historical) (5 page)

“May I kiss them again?” I murmured.

In answer, she leaned over me, and rolling until I lay on my back and she above me, she placed her breast firmly in my mouth.

Her hand slipped between our bodies and moved rhythmically against my pubic bone as she pleasured herself, the movement becoming more frantic and jerky as I continued my hard tugs at her breasts.

I could smell the scent of her wetness as she massaged herself, and I was desperate for my own release, pressing my groin against her leg for relief. The surprising pleasure I gained from rubbing my clit against her generous, shapely thighs stunned me, and I came on a gasp, the climax sharp and almost painful, my mouth filled with her wonderful, delicious areola all the while – soon after, Helen cried out her own pleasure.

Despite how tiring the day had been and how draining my release was, I felt wide awake.

“My nightgown is all wet,” Helen grinned, sitting up and pulling it over her head, the moonlight highlighting her nude body before she slipped beneath the covers again, shivering.

I knew mine must be soaked; the centre of my legs was slippery with my release. Silently, I removed it, hands shaking, warmth filling me at Helen’s pleased smile.

“That was wonderful,” I said shyly then.

“Well that’s one word for it,” Helen laughed, throwing her arm around my waist and moving closer under the cover.

Her hard nipples brushed against mine, and I felt myself getting excited by her again. When they brushed against me again, I knew it had been deliberate.

Wordlessly, we delighted in the shy press and slide of our bodies against each other as we tried to get warm – or used that as an excuse to touch.

“I’m still a little cold here,” Helen whispered teasingly, bringing my hands to her breasts, and I warmed them thoroughly for her.

The covers started to shake a little and I realised she was pleasuring herself again.

“Let me,” I whispered back, and she nodded, resting her head on my shoulder.

“Please,” she sighed.

I touched her slippery folds slowly, hesitatingly, rubbing the way I liked to be touched, and as

I briefly circled her hot entrance, only to move away again, Helen’s hand around my wrist stayed me.

“Touch me inside,” she said huskily, her hand stroking my buttocks, and I swallowed nervously, my lack of experience versus her seeming wealth of it making me feel inadequate foe the first time; I’d never even touched myself inside before but curiosity and the need to desire to pleasure Helen gave out.

I slowly entered her body with my index finger, her hot, wet inner walls clutching at me.

Helen’s head slipped from my shoulder and rested on my chest and at the feel of her hot tongue on my nipple I bucked.

I fingered her a little deeper and she sucked me a little harder – my breasts had always been sensitive, but I was surprised to feel the tightness in my centre building in that familiar way as Helen tongued me.

My second release came more slowly.

“It’s alright,” Helen said against my breast, still sucking, “You can be as loud as you want,” she moaned, before she swore, her meltingly hot cunny squeezing around my thrusting finger.

For the first time since I’d shared her bed, I didn’t sleep on the extreme edge that night.

***

The snow began to melt a week or so later, and the day after it first began to
drop, everyone came home again – and things reverted to their usual mundane monotony.

My duties at work were a little more expansive now that I’d been there a while and I was no longer confined just to the kitchen.

Now and then I’d pass Helen, and she’d smile before going on her way, something in my belly fluttering every time we’d alight at work or at home.

Neither of us had mentioned what had happened the night the snow had started and now that everyone was home again, the house full, it didn’t seem it would ever be mentioned again.

After a morning of helping with the Moreland’s breakfast service, I made my way to the laundry, pausing for a moment as I eyed Helen and her old lover, Liz, chattering.

A dart of jealousy hit me – which was silly, of course, I told myself.

“Help me with these linens, will you?” Helen said then as she spied me, moving away from Liz.

She gestured for me to join her and we silently worked through the morning.

“Helen – you’re wanted in the parlour,” a pale-haired girl announced from the doorway, and I steeled myself for a snide comment or filthy look from her; she didn’t disappoint.

“What must it be like, I wonder, having to clean the scum of their lord and ladyships garments when you used to be on the other side of it, Miss Priss,” the girl asked, striding past me and jostling me out of the way as she went.

My hip hit a table, pain shooting through my body, but as usual, I ignored her, making to leave the laundry.

“You leave her alone Katie, do you hear?” Helen said then, voice firm, eyes flashing.

“Or what?” the girl sneered.

“Or you’ll see,” Helen said calmly, and the two of them stared at one another silently before

Katie look
ed away, mumbling under her breath.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said as Helen and I left the laundry. “No doubt they’ll think me weak and unable to stand up for myself,” I sighed.

“Who cares what they think,” Helen tossed her head. “If they say anything else they’ll have me to answer to and that’s the end of it. But you haven’t been having the worst luck – I’ve heard that you’ve made some friends.”

“You mean the Smith twins?” I glanced at her askance. “Prudence invited me around for

Sunday lunch,” I nodded. “She’s so easy to talk to – her and her brother are lovely.”

“Well,” Helen said, sounding far from impressed. “Personally, I prefer a bit of meat on my women but if you fancy her then-”

“Helen!” I muttered, shocked, looking around the empty corridor we passed through even though she’d spoken discreetly. “She’s is just a friend-”

“Best to tell her that, then – I reckon she’s already half in love with you.”

I thought of the quiet, pretty girl who was a year older than me and who shared my interest in literature, something we’d quickly bonded over.

“She’s like us,” Helen said then, raising her brows in emphasis.

“Well, there must surely be something in the water here,” I shook my head in disbelief as I came to library, pausing outside the door before I picked up my next task. “And as it happens, she really is just a friend,” I insisted, meeting Helen’s eyes.

Helen’s previously unsmiling countenance lightened and she smiled broadly before shrugging, saying, “Well, it’s no skin of my nose either way. And Liz – Liz is just a friend too, in case you were wondering.”

I watched her retreating figure, thrilled.

***

I watched from the bed as Helen brushed her blonde hair, and then she rose, taking off her clothes, readying herself for bed.

I quickly lay down, turning to
stare at the wall, Helen’s mocking laughter floating over to me.

“Still Miss Prim after everything?”

“I’m simply reading, that’s all,” I huffed defensively, turning a page of the book in my hand loudly, and I continued to
pretend to read as she joined me in bed.

“Turn the lamp out when you’re done,” she yawned, flinging an arm over her eyes, and I set the book aside, bathing the room in darkness before trying to find a comfortable position in bed.

Helen groped for my arm and draped it around her waist. “You’ll fall off the bed, ninny, if you scoot any further away,” she chastised.

My hand rested on her belly; her hair pressed against my face, her bottom against my groin.

Just as I made to retract my hand, Helen reached for my fingers.

“Helen…” I whispered in embarrassed delight.

“Hmm?” she murmured vaguely, the query turning into a small sigh of pleasure as my traitorous fingers started to stroke her stomach before she grabbed my hand and placed it on her breast.

Her nipples hardened against my caressing hands.

“You can suck them again, if you like,” she said after a lengthy silence, and at the languid invite, she moved onto her back.

Hand trembling slightly, I unbuttoned her dress and circled her large, tight areolas slowly with my fingers, marvelling at how easy and natural it felt to be with her like this; how right it felt to fall into this intimacy with her so quickly, especially after how long it had been.

“W-what if someone were to come in?” I whispered then.

Helen snorted. “Why would they? They’re all abed themselves.”

At the assurance, I became bolder in my caresses, the kisses to her breasts soon turning to drawn out suckling.

“Harder,” Helen demanded on a low grunt, and I increased the pressure of my mouth happily.

I pulled away for a moment, rubbing my fingers over her jewel hard, wet nipples.

“Hmm – I wish there was more light in here so I could see them,” I said wistfully then.

“Put the lamp on then,” Helen said simply.

“Oh – oh I couldn’t. What if someone should see the light on and-”

“Will you give it a rest?” Helen said in fond exasperation, reaching over me to light the lamp on her bedside table.

As mellow light filled the room, I blinked, my eyes adjusting slowly. I took in Helen’s flushed cheeks and bare breasts, the bold sight wonderfully erotic.

“Beautiful,” I murmured shyly and Helen grinned.

“Glad I meet with your approval,” she said archly, snuggling up beside me, throwing a casual arm over my hip as we lay facing one another.

I touched her pink areola, now soft and wet from my mouth, the nipple no longer hard but flat and soft to the touch.

I watched in wonder as it hardened once more beneath my massage, and then watched

Helen’s capable fingers as she subjected my own breasts to like treatment.

She
kissed me suddenly – and briefly – her eyes holding mine the whole time.

“I just thought – isn’t it strange you’ve hand your lips on my tits but we ain’t kissed yet?”

Helen mused then, smiling, her eyes admiring as she smoothed a hand over my chest. “I promise I’m not usually so easy – a girl has to woo me a bit before she can get into my bodice,” she grinned.

Our bare breasts touched as we held each other, and I gave her a quick kiss in return. It went on like this for a little while; quick presses of the lips, breasts touching, hard nipples rubbing, and it was bliss.

And then the kisses weren’t quite so brief and chaste.

Helen moaned quietly into my mouth.

“Oh, bloody hell,” she muttered, pressing her face into my neck. “The last thing I feel like doing now is being quiet. You make me want to scream and shout,” she giggled, and I smiled into her hair.

We kissed again before pulling reluctantly apart.

“Suppose we should turn the light off,” Helen said grudgingly before giving me a saucy look.