Page 16 of Benefactor to the Baroness (The Seductive Sleuths #3)
T he rest of the day passed in a dreary haze. Rosemary kept her distance from Fontaine, unable to find the right words to express her frustration that they would have only one more night together. She walked laps of the third-class decks for hours, considering and rejecting ways to ask Fontaine if she wanted to do more than sleep. But when she eventually arrived at their room, her pulse skittering beneath her skin, it was to find the lights extinguished and Fontaine undressed and lying with her back to the door.
Fighting back a surge of disappointment, Rosemary hastily removed her many layers before slipping into the bed. She stayed as far away from the other woman as she could, but the tight confines meant she could still feel the warmth of Fontaine’s body and hear her soft exhales. It was a particular torture that made her briefly consider the option of sleeping with the night crew.
Then Fontaine curved around her from behind and tucked her arm around Rosemary’s stomach. The sudden warmth made her want to roll over and find Fontaine’s lips, but she couldn’t be sure if the other woman was awake and teasing her, or merely a restless sleeper.
She closed her eyes and imagined Fontaine cupping her breasts, squeezing and kneading her flesh. One hand would slide down her stomach and, without lifting the fabric, press Rosemary’s nether lips apart…
She was so wet, and panting from the imagined scenario, that she hardly recognized Fontaine’s tongue on her neck. It wasn’t until the dowager baroness tweaked her nipple that Rosemary yelped and nearly leaped from the bed. Only the arm around her chest kept her in place.
“I was dreaming about you,” Fontaine said.
Rosemary gulped. “What kind of dream?”
“A most pleasant one.”
Rosemary exhaled a long breath as Fontaine’s hand gently cupped her breast. There was only a thin layer of cambric lying between Fontaine’s fingers and her nipple. The warmth curling in her belly throbbed. She wanted Fontaine’s fingers tucked between her legs, rubbing circles and delving deep inside her. Her own hands itched with the need to touch. To feel Fontaine spasming around her fingers. To lick the traces of pleasure that dripped down her legs.
She remembered the first time she’d tasted a woman’s sex. It had been far more pleasurable than putting her mouth on her husband’s cock. The soft folds of a woman’s vulva didn’t throb or grow large inside her mouth. A woman would never, even unintentionally, choke her partner by thrusting her sexual organs down their throat.
One of Fontaine’s legs shifted over Rosemary’s hips and pulled her even tighter back. Then, to Rosemary’s immense pleasure, Fontaine drifted one of her hands lower.
Lower…
“Please,” Rosemary whispered.
Fontaine continued, rubbing every inch of her skin in a casual massage before finally reaching her navel. Those questing, curious fingers tickled her stomach, then brushed the edge of the crinkly hair at the apex of her thighs before sliding even lower.
So close…
Any moment, she would wake up, and she would be back to a quivering bundle of need. She could not achieve orgasm in her sleep, of that she was certain. But God, she wanted the dream to go on forever.
Fontaine twirled the tip of her finger in just such a way that Rosemary gasped and moved her hips into the motion. It felt so good . Electric sensations shot down her legs, and the pressure in her pelvis built to a crescendo.
She flipped around so she was facing Fontaine and pressed their mouths together. The sounds that came from Fontaine’s throat were almost enough to push her over the edge.
“More?” Fontaine whispered.
“Oh, yes,” Rosemary said. “Much more.”
Fontaine plunged her fingers deep and pleasure washed over Rosemary in a wave. When it receded, she brought her hands up to cup the heavy mounds of Fontaine’s breasts.
“My turn.”
Fontaine pulled off her shift, then grabbed the edge of Rosemary’s and lifted it over her head. With their naked bodies twined together, Rosemary touched her mouth to Fontaine’s nipple and rasped, then suckled deeply. Fontaine bucked beneath her, but Rosemary held her down with one hand on her hip. Then she slid her palm down until her fingers brushed the wiry hair covering Fontaine’s vulva. She lifted her lips and blew gently on the now-wet nipple, making Fontaine shudder before turning her attention to the other nipple, while gently pressing her fingers against Fontaine’s vulva without quite reaching inside. When she had properly sucked on both of Fontaine’s nipples and tasted every inch of skin above her navel, she scooted down the bed and spread Fontaine’s legs apart, revealing every luxurious inch of her.
“You look delicious,” she whispered. “Can I taste you?”
Fontaine gave a throaty laugh. “Please do.”
Rosemary slid her fingers inside Fontaine’s vulva, between the outer and inner lips in a V. The folds of her vulva were different, but also the same. Her inner lips were longer, the hair covering her mons pubis thicker, and her clitoris larger. Rosemary devoured the sight. She might not have another chance to enjoy herself.
A bead of liquid slid down from Fontaine’s entrance and absorbed into the mattress.
That would not do.
She licked in one solid rasp from her entrance to her clitoris. Fontaine moaned and pressed her hips upward. Rosemary pushed her down, sliding her tongue into Fontaine’s vulva, savoring every layer before moving on to the next. By the time she had reached the innermost layers, Fontaine was panting and squirming beneath her.
Compared to her former partners, Fontaine was all sweet curves. Even the gentle musk coming from her body was sweeter. Her taste was mildly salty, but not unpleasant.
She slid her finger around Fontaine’s entrance, then slowly pressed until two knuckles were inside. When she found the right spot, she crooked her fingers, causing Fontaine to gasp and whimper. She wrapped her lips around Fontaine’s clitoris and sucked, then added a second finger and continued her scooping movement. The quivering of Fontaine’s flesh told her that her climax was coming. When it did, she plunged deep, savoring each moment of shuddering release.
The moment seemed to last forever, but eventually, Fontaine stilled.
Rosemary crawled back up and cuddled her from behind. Her hair was slick with sweat, and she didn’t know when she would have a chance to bathe. Fresh water for bathing seemed as if it would be a rarity aboard a ship. But she would spend a month without bathing if it meant she got to spend every morning with Fontaine in her arms.
“I wish every morning could be like this,” Fontaine said, echoing Rosemary’s thoughts.
Rosemary stilled. She had intentionally avoided considering what would happen when they arrived in Halifax. They were safe from scandal while she acted as Fontaine’s companion, but not knowing what awaited them made Rosemary nervous. Despite doing her best to keep distant, she had grown accustomed to the orphans. She would dearly miss Annie’s energetic singing and the gentle way Peter doted on Quinn. For the first time in longer than she could remember, she wondered if she had made a mistake by not remarrying and having children of her own. But her nieces and nephew had been her children, no matter what anyone else said.
The sound of rapidly approaching footfalls and high-pitched laughter jolted her out of her thoughts. She rolled off the bed and struggled into her garments, sliding them over her sweat-slick skin. She kept her back to the dowager baroness, certain any words that came to her would muddle together if she tried to speak. A casual sexual encounter aboard the ship was one thing, but she was only torturing herself by imagining anything more.
Fontaine had commitments. Responsibilities. She had to maintain a reputation in society. The orphans of London depended on her charity. Any future they shared would require secrecy and lies.
“Where are you going?” Fontaine asked.
Rosemary swallowed the knot in her throat. As painful as it was, she knew what she had to do.
“Rosemary?” Fontaine whispered.
She had to be strong. If Fontaine didn’t have the strength to stay away, then it was up to her.
“I think I heard Annie just now,” she said without turning. “I’ll go check and make sure everyone is in bed.”
She reached for the doorknob but couldn’t quite make herself turn it.
“Are you coming back?” Fontaine asked.
Rosemary shuddered as she opened the door. “I think we both know it’s better if I don’t.”