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In all of Phoebe’s fifty years on this earth, she’d never been kissed quite like this. It had the combination of youthful naivety and the practice of someone who knew exactly what they were doing and what they wanted. Jacinda tasted like the ratafia she’d just imbibed, Phoebe’s preferred drink of choice. The roughness of the ropes crossed over Jacinda’s chest and down her arms added sensation to the softness of their kiss, and Phoebe needed to take this kiss further.
“Lie down.” She gently guided Jacinda towards the bed and pushed her down onto the clean quilt. The owners, who all used the pseudonym Mrs Skarsgard, kept the linen in the Soho Club well laundered.
“Will you tie me to the bed?”
“Would you like that?” Phoebe wanted to do that for her very much.
“Soon. First I would like to undress you.” Jacinda’s voice deepened, and the soft alto was a lot more pleasant than the falsetto she’d obviously been using in the main ballroom. Huh. Using her voice as a disguise fascinated Phoebe more than it ought. Most people came to the Soho Club to get away from the strictures of their everyday life; using a disguise shouldn’t be interesting. It shouldn’t even register as something unusual for Phoebe.
“Allow me.” Phoebe didn’t waste any time. She bent down and removed her boots, grateful that she’d decided to wear simple half-boots tonight, so they weren’t a major drama requiring a servant’s assistant. She began to take off her leather breeches, and she wasn’t surprised to see Jacinda slide off the bed and kneel before her. It took both of them to peel the soft leather down her legs. It wasn’t sexy or clumsy, just a process of collaboration to remove the clinging fabric, inching it down with Phoebe working from the top and Jacinda helping by pulling the pants down over her feet, then removing her stockings with the same ease. The pragmatism in the way Jacinda assisted her without comment was lovely. The cool air of the evening snuck through the gaps in the old walls of the building, bringing up gooseflesh on her bare skin.
“No drawers?”
“Not with these pants.” Phoebe hadn’t been able to wear anything underneath the leather pants, and now she stood before a kneeling Jacinda with everything below her waist bare. “Touch me.”
Jacinda flicked out the pants and lay them neatly on the bed, then traced her hands up the outsides of Phoebe’s legs, taking her time to soothe where the seams had left red lines on her skin. Just as Phoebe was about to get impatient for her touch on her mons, Jacinda leaned in closer and blew a little breath over Phoebe’s curls. The resultant shiver rushed through her core.
“Again.”
Jacinda complied, not arguing with the command, but just as Phoebe spread her legs to beg for Jacinda’s tongue, Jacinda stood. The ropes on her dress swung around both of their legs, rough against Phoebe’s heated skin. Jacinda began to unbutton Phoebe’s waistcoat. She was slightly taller than Phoebe, tall enough to brush her lips against Phoebe’s cheek.
“I want you to be naked when you tie me up.”
Phoebe shuddered at the image. Jacinda still bound into her dress, but with the fabric bunched around her waist and the dangling ropes used to pull her limbs to all four corners of the bed. If Phoebe wore nothing while Jacinda remained tied inside her gown, the power between would ebb and flow. Interesting.
Phoebe liked that very much. “And then I will lick you until you come.”
Jacinda fumbled the next button and cursed, an almost soundless whisper in Phoebe’s ear. She pushed the waistcoat open, removing it from Phoebe’s body, and when Jacinda turned to place the waistcoat carefully beside the pants, Phoebe stripped off her shirt, leaving her stays in place.
“You should’ve waited.”
“I’m done with waiting.” Phoebe kissed Jacinda hard on the mouth, pressing in for an advantage. She used her tongue to lash Jacinda’s mouth with all the need that had built and built since they’d walked into this room, and when Jacinda’s eyes widened and her nostrils flared with every rapid breath, Phoebe pushed her back onto the bed, then crawled over her.
“No more waiting.” She placed her weight on Jacinda, loving the way the ropes were rough against her bare legs and arms. Combined with the softness of the muslin and the flushed skin of Jacinda’s throat, it was a texture overload. Jacinda nuzzled against her throat, but this was Phoebe’s game. Phoebe’s time to shine. And she wanted the vision Jacinda had painted. Jacinda placed her arms on Phoebe’s spine, fiddling with the laces of her stays, and soon enough the garment came loose. Phoebe didn’t believe in tight lacing; it wasn’t necessary with the current fashions and her stays were only useful because they kept her breasts from jostling when she walked. She was older now, without a husband to cater to, and she wanted to spend her life in comfort.
Jacinda, once again, took the garment and folded it with care, placing it with the other pieces of clothing on the edge of the bed. She must work for Madame Fabriquer to have such a reverence for clothing, or at least, she’d obviously been trained in the care of clothing. All these thoughts flashed quickly in Phoebe’s head, the work of less than a moment, before Jacinda bent her arms and cupped Phoebe’s breasts. She lay on top of Jacinda, arching her spine with her hands placed on the bed beside Jacinda’s shoulders.
“You are beautiful.” Jacinda brushed her thumbs over Phoebe’s nipples, sending shards of pleasure flashing through her body. She moaned, temporarily forgetting what she was supposed to be doing, but then she ducked her gaze to stare at the ropes criss-crossed over Jacinda’s decolletage.
“I’m too old to be beautiful.”
“Nonsense. Beauty isn’t about youth. Men only value youth because they can mould it to their needs. They equate pliability to beauty.”
“And you don’t?” Phoebe wanted to know everything about this mysterious woman who’d come to the ball purely as a model to market a dress for Madame Fabriquer. She was statuesque, stunning, and now she had thoughts about society that very few women dared to have.
“No. I believe women gain beauty as they grow in confidence. Too many women get beaten down by the expectations of society, and then they expend all their energy on trying to stay young because they falsely believe that’s their only value. But a few manage to discard the rules and become more of themselves.”
Phoebe found it hard to focus as Jacinda pinched Phoebe’s nipples. She gasped. “And?”
“Those who discover themselves and stop caring about society’s rules are the ones who attain true beauty.”
“Where do you fit?”
Jacinda almost smiled, the edges of her lips twitching, before she lifted her head and sucked one of Phoebe’s nipples into her mouth. Pleasure spiked, rushing through her body, and she forgot what they had been talking about. The skill exhibited by Jacinda as she rolled Phoebe’s nipple in her mouth, toying with her and slowly increasing the pleasure she experienced was not something Phoebe had enjoyed for a long time. Her husband had been a good lover, attentive and caring, and then there had been several lovers—men and women—who’d had varying levels of ability. She pushed her thigh between Jacinda’s legs, but one of the ropes got in the way. Phoebe tried to grind her leg against it, and she must’ve hit the right spot when Jacinda gasped.
“Oh.”
“You like that?”
“Yes.”
“Allow me.” Phoebe needed to regain control of this situation. She liked to take charge, to direct someone in the best ways to give her pleasure, yet Jacinda’s mouth on her breast was quickly changing up how this was supposed to go. She rose up onto her hands and knees, noting the way Jacinda’s gaze glued on her breasts. She eased her way down Jacinda’s body, crawling down the bed, until she reached a place where she could hold the ropes tied to the seam under Jacinda’s bodice. She took one rope and untied it, then a second one.
“Stretch out your hands.”
“Like this?” Jacinda spread her hands wide on the bed.
“Yes.” Phoebe knelt between Jacinda’s legs, and pulled on the fine muslin of her dress until it was scrunched up around Jacinda’s knees. “Now the same with your legs.”
Jacinda moved slowly. The fabric made no noise, but the ropes scratched and rustled against the quilt. Phoebe shifted so she could tie one of the ropes she’d freed around Jacinda’s ankle and the corner post of the bed, then she repeated it with the other.
Jacinda stayed still, relaxed, with a little smile on her face.
“You like that.”
“Yes. But now you’ve made this promise, how are you planning to fulfil it?” Jacinda’s question sent a flush of heat racing down her spine into her soaked core. She suppressed the shiver because she was supposed to be in control here.
“Like this.” Phoebe stretched out wide and held both of Jacinda’s ankles, slowly caressing her hands up her legs until she found the edge of the muslin dress. She pushed the dress up and up until it was tucked around Jacinda’s waist.
“Nice drawers.” They weren’t. They were boring cotton drawers, plain and practical with the usual unsewn seam between her legs. Now that Phoebe had tied Jacinda’s legs, the drawers would have to stay, but if she shifted them a little, she would have a wonderful view of Jacinda’s lush inner core. Her labia were pink and swollen, soaking wet for her.
“Please.” Jacinda’s breathy whisper was exactly what Phoebe had been waiting for. She leaned forward, using Jacinda’s hips for balance, and licked. Jacinda’s taste exploded on her tongue, musky and salty, perfect. She was so wet and ready for Phoebe’s ministrations, and when Phoebe sucked on her pearl, Jacinda cried out. Phoebe was also wet and wanted to grind herself against Jacinda’s body, but first she focused on giving Jacinda the best night of her life. She used all her skill, her tongue, and the occasional scrap of her teeth to draw out a series of moans and groans from Jacinda. This was her favourite thing in the world, to discover what made another person cry out for more ... more pleasure, more need, more desire.
“Do you want more?”
“Yes. I need more.”
It was all Phoebe needed to hear and she slid her fingers inside Jacinda, pressing hard against that magical spot that when combined with the suction of Phoebe’s mouth on her clit would make Jacinda buck her hips, and pull against her constraints.
“Wait.” Jacinda broke the routine and Phoebe smiled.
“Why?”
“I want to kiss you too.”
“My mouth is busy.”
Jacinda giggled. “Not on your mouth. Turn around, so your knees are beside my head. Then I can kiss you too.” Yes, this was why being here with Jacinda was better—different—to the random others that she’d played with over the years. She knew what she wanted, and she wasn’t too timid to ask. Phoebe had heard it spoken of, but none of her previous lovers had tried it with her. She slipped off the end of the bed, casting her gaze over Jacinda’s prone form with a satisfied sigh. Not wanting to gift all the control to Jacinda, she walked around to the side of the bed, then spent some time focused on Jacinda’s restrained hand. She kissed each of her fingers, noting the callouses on the ends of each one, as if Jacinda worked for the living. No matter. That wasn’t relevant to now. She traced the veins in Jacinda’s wrist, taking her time and waiting until Jacinda was ready to beg for attention before she crawled onto the bed and took up the position Jacinda had suggested. It was initially awkward as her legs were on top of Jacinda’s arms, but she quickly shifted to thread each leg under Jacinda’s arms. With each movement, Jacinda breathed heavily.
“You look incredible.” The breathy rough whisper sent heat scattering all over Phoebe’s skin. She needed this now. She lay down on Jacinda’s body, offering her core to Jacinda’s face, and stretching out so she could continue to lick and suck at Jacinda’s perfect pink core. It didn’t take long before they were both panting. Phoebe slid her fingers into Jacinda’s slick body. She was so close, so ready to let herself go—she really shouldn’t have restricted Jacinda’s hands—it didn’t matter as all it took was Jacinda to suck hard on Phoebe’s clit. Phoebe let the wave of pleasure wash over her whole body as she found her release, clenching around Jacinda tongue. She collapsed with the taste of Jacinda’s own release filling her mouth, and the heady scent of her musk surrounding her. Phoebe let her head flop onto Jacinda’s thigh as the last waves of their combined releases slowly faded into a happy oblivion. After a few moments, lying here on top of Jacinda, enjoying the fading pleasure, Phoebe forced herself to move. She crawled down the bed, carefully over Jacinda’s prone form, then swung around to stand on the floor. She untied all of Jacinda’s binds.
“Thank you.” The soft whisper settled on Phoebe’s skin and she wanted to stay here with her. Jacinda sat up. “You don’t have to go. We have time to do more.”
“Tempting.” Phoebe wanted to stay. Spending more time in bed with Jacinda would certainly resolve her current ennui. “Unfortunately, I have to be downstairs soon for the charity auction.”
“Then we’d better help you back into those impossible pants.” Jacinda leaned forward and rubbed one of her ankles.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No. I pulled against the restraint a little too much.”
“So I did hurt you?”
“I wanted it. I liked it, and I—”
Phoebe wrapped her arms around Jacinda and kissed her. It shouldn’t have felt like goodbye, this kiss, but it did. It was the kiss of two people who’d had a momentary connection and now had to go back to their everyday lives without each other. A hot prickle formed in the back of Phoebe’s eyes and she pulled away from the kiss, turning to pick up her clothes. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment until the sensation went away—what rot to want more from a liaison like this—and resolved to get dressed and get on with things. The auction would raise much needed funds for the orphanage her son ran in this district. Parentless children were more important than her own pleasure.