Page 31 of A Lady Most Wayward (The Queen’s Deadly Damsels #5)

Philippa was burning. Between her thighs, the tips of her breasts, her lungs, her heart. Everything was aflame, and she didn’t know whether to flee from the fire or pour oil onto the conflagration and let it incinerate everything she knew until she emerged like a phoenix from the ashes, renewed.

‘Come.’ She took Olivia’s hand and led her to the settee.

Pushing her down onto the cushions, Philippa bent to grab a pillow and drop it on the floor between Olivia’s slippered feet.

Olivia’s eyes widened, and the wild wish to possess the talent of a painter swept through Philippa.

To capture the beauty of Olivia’s flushed skin, her long legs, her pale breasts tipped with nipples reddened by Philippa’s mouth.

To find the exact shade that might match the shine of Olivia’s wild curls glowing in firelight, the right line to trace the arc of her neck, the brushstroke that would immortalise the emerald depths of her eyes.

But her talents lay in destruction, not creation.

So I will destroy her for any other woman.

It was a brutal sentiment, but Philippa was feeling ruthless.

Something about Olivia’s demand called to the uncontainable heat simmering in Philippa’s blood.

She wanted to take Olivia to heights neither of them had ever reached.

Claim the woman who infiltrated her mind like a cunning criminal.

Stole her thoughts like a skilled thief.

Whittled away her control over desires Philippa long since buried.

It is only fair Olivia should feel the sharp edge of my need.

Philippa kept her eyes locked onto Olivia as she slowly lowered herself to her knees. Olivia’s unbound breasts rose and fell with each inhalation. The impetuous marchioness bit her lower lip.

Ah. Not as confident as you pretend to be.

They hadn’t discussed their past experiences. She didn’t know how far Olivia had taken things with her maid. What paths they had wandered down in their quest for pleasure. Olivia had only been with one other woman, but that told Philippa nothing.

I have only been with Liza.

Guilt rippled, but it was eclipsed by something else.

Didn’t Olivia deserve a moment of softness?

Didn’t Philippa? That is what this was between them.

Two women finding strength within each other.

It wasn’t anything like her sweet discoveries with Liza.

They had been the best of friends, slipping from laughter into love like spring warms into summer.

Learning how to pleasure each other through fumbled explorations and breathless experiments.

What they lacked in sophistication and knowledge, they gained in the joy of experiencing physical bliss with total trust and deep connection.

But I am no longer a young girl on the cusp of sexual awakening.

She was a woman grown and confident in her desires.

She had read widely and imagined all manner of wicked pleasure to be had between the thighs of a willing partner, even though she remained celibate after losing Liza.

But tonight, she gave herself permission to play.

Because this wasn’t love. It wasn’t betrayal.

She didn’t know what it was, but she knew she wanted Olivia with a fierceness that defied logic.

‘Lift your skirts.’ Philippa could have helped, but instead, she rocked back on her heels and watched as Olivia gathered the layers of cloth, dragging them up her calves, exposing stockings tied at her knees in little blue bows.

The hemline riveted Philippa as it moved slowly higher.

She couldn’t decide if Olivia was being intentionally coy or if the woman who so casually commanded the attention of dukes, viscounts, and barons alike was suddenly shy.

Flicking her gaze up, she saw the tremble in Olivia’s lips. ‘Are you frightened?’

Olivia shook her head quickly. Too quickly.

‘Exactly how much experience have you had with another woman?’

Olivia’s blush told Philippa all she needed to know.

‘There was kissing. And touching, of course. She was quite skilled with her hands. But… we never. I mean to say, she spoke about how good it could be when one used their mouth and tongue, but Percy discovered us before we could ever progress to… umm. Yes. Well.’

Philippa raised a brow. With all of Olivia’s charm and sophistication, her practised flirting at balls, her confidence while twirling on the dance floor in the arms of any number of men, she never would have guessed the woman to be so inexperienced.

But then, mayhap that was Olivia’s game.

To keep everyone at arm’s length by making them believe she was far too experienced to ever dally with a bed partner unmatched to her in sophistication.

It bloody well worked.

Until now.

‘I doubt your husband was very generous in his lovemaking.’

Olivia’s snort of laughter broke some of the tension pulling tight between them. ‘My pleasure was never his concern.’

‘It is mine, tonight.’ The thrill of showing Olivia what her body could feel both humbled and aroused Philippa. ‘Your pleasure is my singular concern.’

Olivia froze with her skirts just cresting her thighs.

That won’t do.

Philippa held Olivia’s gaze. ‘Your skirts, I want them around your waist.’

‘So demanding, Duchess.’ But Olivia complied.

She couldn’t stop herself from tracing her fingers up Olivia’s shapely calf, toying with the ribbon before she rubbed her thumb in a rhythmic circle on the inside of Olivia’s knee. She kept her eyes on Olivia’s face, drawing out the moment before she let her gaze fall.

Olivia’s maidenhair was dark gold, hiding pink lips glistening with the evidence of her desire. Philippa’s mouth watered for a single taste. ‘Perfect everywhere. I can’t decide if I’m envious or enamoured.’

‘Would it be too bold of me to hope for both?’

The comment caught Philippa off guard. She smiled.

Not a calculated stretch of her lips, nor a sharp curl of her mouth designed to expose her teeth like fangs, but a genuine expression of surprised mirth.

‘Are you not always bold? You swan onto any dance floor in the beau monde with as much confidence as the Queen.’

Olivia shrugged, the movement doing fascinating things to her breasts. She looked at Philippa’s eyebrows instead of meeting her gaze. ‘When it doesn’t matter, it’s easy to pretend.’

‘Ah.’

But this matters.

And that revelation was far too complicated to examine.

Philippa had been grieving Liza for so long, she’d long ago accepted that the remainder of her life would be spent in solitude.

The danger inherent in starting a love affair with another woman hardly seemed worth the effort when her heart would never be involved, and taking a new husband was never an option.

But then she met Olivia.

Somewhere along the way, mayhap it began on a storm-tossed cliff above the Cornish sea, her long-accepted future fate, which had been so clear, became opaque.

It was a problem she couldn’t untangle now with the distraction of Olivia’s luscious body laid out before her.

Philippa focused instead on discovering Olivia’s pleasure and spinning it out until they both shattered.

Because that was something she could control.

Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss just above Olivia’s knee. ‘I remember the first time I saw you. At Lord Renquist’s ball. You wore a white gown with purple feathers.’

‘You remember that night?’

Philippa gently pulled Olivia’s legs further apart. Her thumb grazed higher on the delicate skin of Olivia’s inner thigh. The woman jerked, pulling her legs together and caging Philippa between them for a moment before she relaxed.

‘I remember everything about you. Your skin glowed. You were laughing at something someone said, and I nearly lost my breath.’

‘I thought you hated me from the start.’

Sliding both hands higher up Olivia’s legs, Philippa hunkered down between them and swiped her tongue where Olivia’s hip jutted out. She was a cat lapping cream. Olivia cried out, shifting her pelvis, making more space for Philippa’s body.

‘I hated how quickly I lost control of my desires. I hadn’t felt that way about another woman in too long to remember.

But I’ve discovered the perfect revenge.

’ Philippa sucked hard enough to leave a love bite high on Olivia’s inner thigh.

The feeling of triumph, knowing Olivia would see evidence of what she did to her for days to come, shocked Philippa.

But not enough to stop her as she turned her head to give equal attention to Olivia’s right leg.

‘Dare I ask?’ Olivia threw her head back, eyes closed as her breasts quivered with every laboured breath.

Accepting the unspoken invitation, Philippa reached up and squeezed the firm, hot flesh. When she pinched Olivia’s nipple and rolled it between her fingers, the woman’s body tightened like a sail in the wind. Olivia pressed a hand over her own mouth, muffling her cry.

Before she answered Olivia’s question, Philippa blew on her core, watching as pink petals parted like a flower opening for the sun.

‘Making you want me as much as I want you. When this is over, you’ll never feel pleasure without thinking of me.

’ She nuzzled into Olivia’s maidenhair before swiping her tongue between Olivia’s lips.

A rush of sweet liquid heat burst on her palate.

‘You are a tyrant, Philippa.’ Olivia gasped.

‘And you are a siren singing me into the depths.’ Philippa let her words vibrate over Olivia’s slick inner flesh before she licked again, savouring the salty tang.

She nudged and nibbled, sucked and plunged, teased and tormented, toying with the tight bud of need as it swelled, but never lingering long enough to grant Olivia satisfaction.

Each time she brought her close to the edge, she retreated.