Chapter 15 #2
It was impossible to ignore the delicious tension pulling between them.
But she also knew they were walking on fragile ground.
They hadn’t established the parameters of their newly developing friendship.
The last thing Cynthia wanted was to destroy this sense of intimacy.
These were uncharted waters. She was used to knowing exactly what to say and when to say it.
Which rules she could bend, which she could break, and which needed to be respected. In this new world, nothing was clear.
Hamlet had been sitting on the couch with Helena, and he padded after his mistress, hopping onto the cushion next to her and curling into a tight, copper ball. Cynthia looked to him, hoping for some wisdom from the fox. He blinked his golden eyes and licked his chops.
Don’t ask me for advice. I’m in love with a ferret.
A lot of help you are.
He yipped an agreement.
Helena squeezed Cynthia’s hand. ‘You have never explored your desires with another woman. I don’t want to push you too far or too fast just because of my own confidence.’
Cynthia could appreciate Helena’s concern. But it wasn’t warranted. ‘If I asked you to stop, would you?’ She knew the answer, but she also knew Helena needed to say the words.
‘Of course.’
‘Exactly. And I will ask… if anything crosses my boundaries. I swear it.’
Helena brought Cynthia’s hand to her lips and pressed a kiss against the sensitive pads of her fingers. Such a simple gesture, and yet an explosion detonated in Cynthia’s core.
She licked her bottom lip, then caught it between her teeth.
The trickling need that had been building since Helena arrived became a rushing river.
‘I would very much like to kiss you, Helena Blair. If you would allow me such liberties.’ It was glorious to take the lead, even if she wasn’t quite sure where they were going.
A small smile curled Helena’s lip, and Cynthia was charmed. ‘Is this part of you remaking yourself?’
Cynthia slowly shook her head. Sunlight warmed her skin while a different fire heated her from within. ‘No. I’m quite certain this is me reclaiming myself. Will you let me try? To kiss you?’ The need was so desperate, she wondered if one could die from wanting.
Helena tangled her hand in Cynthia’s hair and held tight, an anchor keeping Cynthia tethered to the moment.
Cynthia traced the back of her fingers along Helena’s jaw. Her skin was softer than silk.
‘I will let you do whatever you please, Lady Burrows.’
Cynthia recoiled from the title. She needed to shed the name that never belonged to her. It tied her to a life she wanted to leave behind. ‘Not Lady Burrows. Not Miss Cynthia Grey. Just Cyn. Will you call me that?’
‘Cyn and Hel. What a pair we make.’
Cynthia closed the distance between them. She paused a moment away from Helena’s lips, waiting for permission. It was the sweetest kiss she had ever experienced, and they hadn’t even started yet.
‘Kiss me.’ The need in Helena’s voice was unmistakable.
A dam burst free in Cynthia as a rush of unfiltered need washed through her. She pressed her mouth against Helena’s and tasted the honey from her tea. Tentatively, she traced the seam of Helena’s lips with her tongue, as the flavour deepened, growing more complex.
Damnation! Caramel and salt. I knew it.
Helena moved closer on the couch, her hand tightening in Cynthia’s hair.
Kissing Helena was a revelation. Her soft lips were warm and gloriously full. When Helena opened to Cynthia’s questing tongue, triumph and trepidation waged a war in Cynthia. She had been given the keys to heaven, but she wasn’t sure what to do once the door opened.
Helena must have sensed her dilemma. She pulled back. ‘Is this too much?’
Cynthia shook her head. ‘No, I just don’t… That is, I’m not sure…’ She huffed out a frustrated breath.
Silver bled into Helena’s grey eyes as understanding dawned.
She pulled Cynthia’s head closer, nibbling Cynthia’s bottom lip before delving into her wet depths.
Helena licked and laved, teasing and taunting, inviting Cynthia to join her in an intimate dance of tongues, lips, and teeth.
It was nothing like her past experiences.
This was just like their conversation, an endless back and forth of discovery between two willing partners.
Cynthia’s heart pounded an ancient rhythm.
She fought to catch her breath. She was drowning and wanted to swim deeper.
Helena was a world of new textures and sensations.
She wanted to savour each one and devour them all at once.
Her fingers traced the edge of Helena’s bodice where her breasts rose and fell with each ragged breath.
Her body was nothing like a man’s. Soft and curved with delightful secrets waiting to be explored.
Cynthia pressed a palm against Helena’s breast, squeezing carefully. They were smaller than Cynthia’s and firm. She could spend hours learning their weight and texture. When Helena moaned into her mouth, the sun burst from the clouds in a dazzling display of light.
Breasts were not a mystery to Cynthia. She had been managing her own since they first arrived, but feeling Helena’s nipple pebble beneath her palm created an insatiable hunger within her.
She wanted to lick and nibble. Savour and suck.
Pull pleasure from Helena the way Helena was pulling Cynthia from her sanity.
She sucked Helena’s bottom lip, scraping with her teeth as she gained more confidence in her explorations.
Rubbing her thumb over Helena’s tightened peak, knowing how it would feel for her, she imagined the spark of pleasure pulsing through Helena.
Her own nipples tightened and tingled, desperate to be treated with such wild abandon.
Pulling free, Cynthia fought to catch her breath. ‘Is this what kissing is supposed to feel like?’
Helena’s pupils were dilated, her mouth red and swollen from Cynthia’s teeth. Satisfaction filled her, knowing she had left a mark on Helena. It was primitive and raw and addicting.
‘Yes. For us. Just for us.’
‘Is this what it was like with the other women you kissed?’ It was a perverse question, but Cynthia needed to know.
Whatever was happening between them was shattering her foundations and rebuilding her anew.
She didn’t expect Helena to feel the same way.
She had been with other women and knew what pleasure felt like when paired with attraction.
Still, what they were sharing felt holy.
Sacred. More than just a frenzy of wild sensation.
Cynthia was giving Helena tiny pieces of her soul.
If this kiss was nothing different to Helena than what she had experienced with other women, it would shatter the fragile magic weaving between them.
Cynthia didn’t want to stop, but she wouldn’t delve deeper if she swam in these waters alone.
‘No. It’s never been like this for me. I don’t know what this is, Cyn.’
A possessive triumph filled her. She leaned forward, pressing open-mouthed kisses to Helena’s neck, sucking her heat to the surface.
She knew she was leaving love bites. Helena wouldn’t be able to look at her neck without thinking of Cynthia on the morrow.
The primal need to mark Helena as hers was shocking in its intensity.
‘Cyn, you’re sweeping me away.’
‘Should I stop?’ God, she didn’t want to stop. Not ever. But she would if Helena asked. It was a promise Helena had made to her, and one she would honour with equal commitment.
‘Never.’
A knock sounded on the parlour door. The spell lacing between them snapped like a rope tethering them to a shooting star. Both women flew apart as Hamlet leapt from the couch to avoid being crushed by Helena.