Page 33

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

The sex books hadn’t prepared H?ra for this.

Not the basic books that explained the mechanics, nor the longer ones that focused on pleasure and technique.

Even with illustrations, they’d all been so abstract.

Madeleine wasn’t abstract.

Her body in H?ra’s arms was soft, real, and warm.

Quite warm. They were on the rug right in front of the hearth, closer to fire than H?ra had ever dared approach.

Now its heat crept over her skin, more primal than if it came from a radiator or stove, unconfined by device or design.

As H?ra kissed Madeleine, the heat swept through her from within and without, and she welcomed it as she never had before.

It was different from the beach, different even from the alley.

Tonight, Madeleine’s mouth opened eagerly, and her body surged forward.

Her generous breasts pressed beneath H?ra’s smaller ones, their bodies coming together in a perfect fit.

They were both upright on their knees as they clung to each other.

H?ra’s legs threatened not to support her.

Her body melted before the flame, before Madeleine.

Would it be better to lie down?

To be on the cooler floor, where their bodies could be together from head to toe?

But Madeleine might not be ready.

She hadn’t issued an intimate invitation .

H?ra’s hands shook where they clasped Madeleine’s back.

She’d warned Madeleine about her nature so many times, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t fight it.

She hadn’t been able to hurt Madeleine on the beach.

She could not hurt her now.

I won’t hurt her, H?ra thought deliriously, as she tore her mouth from Madeleine’s and placed it on the soft curve of Madeleine’s neck.

I won’t. She bared her teeth against the skin.

I won’t. She began to suck.

“Lord!” Madeleine’s hands spasmed on H?ra’s shoulders.

“H?ra!”

H?ra released her skin with a gasp.

Had that been pain? What had she done?

“I...”

Before she could finish, Madeleine’s hands swept up into her hair, carding through it.

Nobody had ever stroked H?ra’s hair before.

It tugged against her scalp, making it tingle, as if Madeleine were caressing the rest of her body too.

Then Madeleine tightened her grip in H?ra’s hair, and she pressed H?ra’s face more firmly to her neck.

Holding her there. Madeleine’s body trembled, and she barely seemed to be breathing.

She wanted it.

H?ra panted against her wet skin.

Opened her mouth. Bared her teeth.

“On your back,” she said.

A little sob came from Madeleine’s mouth, but she was moving, doing as she was told.

H?ra kept one arm around her shoulders, lowering her to the floor.

The stone had to have been cold beneath the rug, but Madeleine didn’t protest. She kept her fingers in H?ra’s hair and opened her mouth as H?ra settled on top of her.

Like she’d done that first night, on the beach.

They seemed to realize it at the same time.

H?ra and Madeleine stared into each other’s eyes when H?ra came to rest, her long body covering Madeleine’s completely, although she put her weight on her elbows in one last gasp of consideration.

“Oh my God.” Madeleine’s voice was barely audible.

“It really was you.”

A growl rose from H?ra’s throat.

“Did you ever doubt me?”

“No, no, it’s just—you feel—” Madeleine’s fingers trembled in H?ra’s hair.

“You feel like everything.” Her body trembled too.

“You changed everything.”

H?ra looked at Madeleine’s mouth, full and parted, and licked her lips.

“Do it again,” Madeleine whispered.

“Change me.”

H?ra didn’t need asking twice.

She bent and took Madeleine’s mouth again, deep and hungry.

Kissing was even better than eating.

How could she ever have known that?

Madeleine’s mouth was a meal all on its own, soft and warm as she kissed H?ra back.

It was easy, it was natural , that she should feast on her woman’s mouth until little noises came out of the back of Madeleine’s throat.

It was better than H?ra’s nighttime fantasies when she touched herself.

Better to have Madeleine with her, responding to her, making H?ra’s body do what it had only done alone until now.

She ached painfully, sweetly, between her legs.

She was swelling, softening, growing wet.

Was Madeleine as well?

H?ra moaned at the thought.

She pushed her hips forward, seeking pressure from the body beneath hers.

The seam of her jeans rubbed between her lips, pulling a little cry from her.

So much—not enough?—

Madeleine made a tiny, helpless sound.

And then she spread her legs.

An intimate invitation.

H?ra was swept into the sea with blood in the water, hunting down her prey by scent and taste.

Madeleine’s scent, just here, as H?ra rubbed her nose into that thick, dark hair.

Madeleine’s taste, as H?ra licked her throat.

“H?ra,” Madeleine whimpered.

She began to move. Her hips rocked up and down like waves.

She was hunting something too.

“What’s happening? What are you doing to me?”

“You’re doing it to me too.” The words came from H?ra in a snarl.

“You want me.” She rolled her hips down again, rubbing against Madeleine and calling a cry from her.

“I can smell it, taste it on you.”

Madeleine’s head fell back.

She panted, “I don’t know what to do.”

Humans thought so much about things.

How could Madeleine think now, when H?ra’s mind was narrowing into a blade of pure instinct?

“You know what to do,” she growled.

“Do what you want. Take what you need.”

Madeleine looked into H?ra’s eyes.

She opened her mouth as if she was about to say something, but instead she grabbed H?ra’s hand.

Her own hand was shaking.

And when she placed H?ra’s hand on her breast, a low cry came from her.

There were too many layers.

Madeleine had on a sweater, and then a shirt, and presumably a bra underneath that too.

How much could she feel?

Maybe her breasts really were that sensitive.

Maybe, even with the slightest pressure, they thrilled to H?ra’s touch.

Not enough .

H?ra shoved her hand beneath Madeleine’s sweater.

Her breast was warmer here, and the jersey cotton was less of a barrier.

H?ra’s thumb brushed over the edge of her bra beneath.

Madeleine made a low noise and grabbed H?ra’s hand through the wool of her sweater.

H?ra paused. Was not enough for her too much for Madeleine?

Would they have to stop?

I can stop, she told herself frantically, I can, I can .

“Like that,” Madeleine whispered.

“Just hold me, please.”

Oh, thank the depths.

H?ra’s resolve would not be so sorely tested.

“Am I hurting you?”

Madeleine laughed shakily.

“Definitely not.”

Her cheeks were red, her eyes bright, her mouth full.

H?ra couldn’t help herself.

She leaned down for another kiss.

Madeleine returned it, still clutching H?ra’s hand against her breast. Then she murmured, “Nobody’s touched me like this before.”

H?ra looked down at her in astonishment.

That couldn’t be right.

Madeleine was so beautiful that someone from another species desired her—she must have known another human’s touch, surely?

“Why not?” she demanded.

“You weren’t always a nun.”

“No, but I was always…like I am.” Madeleine briefly closed her eyes.

“I avoided boys. When I did date, I told them I didn’t want to go too far before marriage. As in, not far at all.” Her lips quirked up.

“You know, in some respects, religion was convenient.”

It wasn’t convenient right now.

H?ra fought not to pant like one of the farm’s dogs.

Madeleine had often spoken of needing to take things slowly.

They could do that.

For another minute or so.

H?ra closed her eyes and took a deep breath, about to ask the Great Mare for patience, because maybe Madeleine was right about the power of prayer.

Anything was worth a try.

Then, suddenly, her right hand—the one on Madeleine’s breast—stung.

Madeleine had just curled her nails into it.

Hard. H?ra looked down again to see that Madeleine’s facial expression had changed completely in the last couple of seconds.

Her eyes were wider, her flush had gone pale, and she bared her teeth.

H?ra began, “What?—”

“And you?” Madeleine asked.

“Have you ever done this with someone else?”

It turned out that your heart could beat, not just in your chest, but in your temples, your throat, and between your legs.

The look in Madeleine’s eyes—hot, wild—scattered H?ra’s heartbeats everywhere, from her head to her toes.

Instead of I could never, H?ra said, “What if I have?”

Now Madeleine grabbed H?ra by both shoulders.

Her fingers dug in harder.

H?ra hissed in a sharp breath.

It hurt.

It felt so, so good.

“Tell me!” Madeleine squeezed H?ra’s shoulders even more tightly.

“Am I the only one? Please just tell me—” She pressed her face into the curve of H?ra’s throat.

Her voice was barely audible.

“Tell me there was nobody else.”

H?ra’s eyelashes fluttered as pure bliss spread through her, more potent than the wine they’d shared weeks ago.

Her mouth pulled wide.

Fire warmed her teeth and gums.

And with her thigh, she bore down between Madeleine’s legs, as she’d done in the alley.

Madeleine scrabbled her nails over H?ra’s back.

Her hips rolled up into the pressure.

“H?ra!”

“You understand.” Triumph dizzied her, and she wrapped both arms around Madeleine once more.

“You understand what it’s like, how I feel.”

“This can’t be how you feel!” Madeleine shook her head back and forth against H?ra’s shoulder.

“It’s not right. I shouldn’t care if you’ve been with anyone else.”

H?ra pulled back.

She cupped Madeleine’s face in her hand and looked into her eyes.

She waited.

“But I do,” Madeleine said brokenly.

“I just thought about it, and suddenly I wanted to kill anybody who might have…”

“They haven’t.” H?ra rubbed her thumb along the exquisite edge of Madeleine’s jaw.

At the base of Madeleine’s throat fluttered her pulse, beating with blood from her heart.

“I want only you. I’ll have only you.”

Madeleine tugged, and their mouths collided, a joining that was almost brutal.

The room spun around them.

There wasn’t enough air in it.

There wasn’t enough of anything, most especially of Madeleine.

There could never be enough Madeleine.

“And,” H?ra breathed against her mouth, “I’ll have all of you.”

All of you .

It should be a terrifying thought.

This whole scenario should scare Madeleine out of her wits—it was too much, too soon.

Maybe tomorrow it would feel that way.

Tonight, Madeleine was done with everything she should do and be.

Tonight, H?ra would have all of her, and Madeleine would return the favor.

She’d never done anything like this.

It didn’t matter. For the last month, her body had been beyond her control, moved only by its own genius.

It had frightened her at first—what right did her skin have to tingle, her breasts to ache, her sex to pulse?

Now she could only bless her body’s wisdom.

She lay on her back while H?ra crouched over her, eagerly rubbing her nose beneath H?ra’s ear as she inhaled her scent.

A scent she recognized with a shock.

It was the scent of the creature that had met her on the beach and walked her safely back into town, a scent both animal and elemental that had won her over even in the face of danger.

This scent was meant for Madeleine, and Madeleine alone.

Mate .

The word flitted through her mind, there and gone, before her mouth opened in a groan.

The groan led to her teeth brushing over H?ra’s flesh.

And then her tongue.

She tasted salt and skin, warm and delicious.

She needed more of it.

Closing her eyes, Madeleine began to suck H?ra’s skin.

Maybe she could drink it right down if she went hard enough.

A gasp. Then H?ra’s fingers grabbed her hair, tugging her head back.

Had Madeleine sucked too hard, hurt her?

There was already a reddening patch on her neck.

H?ra’s eyes were wildfire.

She bent her head, and now her mouth latched onto Madeleine’s neck once more.

Teeth came with it. Their edges sank into Madeleine’s skin at the same moment H?ra’s hand cupped Madeleine between her legs.

Pain and pleasure, equally fierce.

How could she ever want one without the other?

Madeleine cried out in joy and arched up into H?ra’s hand and mouth.

“More,” she pleaded.

“All of me.”

H?ra reared up.

Even on her knees she loomed over Madeleine, body edged with firelight.

Her chest rose and fell with her panting breath.

What did she look like beneath her shirt?

Her breasts would be smaller than Madeleine’s—probably pale, probably soft, definitely perfect.

As if she’d read Madeleine’s mind, H?ra began to unbutton her shirt.

The breath stopped in Madeleine’s lungs.

That dream she’d had—when H?ra had refused to reveal herself, but now?—

“Take yours off too,” H?ra said hoarsely.

“Unless you want me to tear it.”

Madeleine’s sweater was sturdy wool woven from ?tlaquoy’s own sheep.

She grabbed at it. “Y-you could tear this?”

H?ra’s eyes flashed.

“You haven’t seen the limits of my strength. Would you test them?”

“Yes,” Madeleine gasped before she could stop herself.

“Show me.”

H?ra grabbed the collar of Madeleine’s sweater.

The wool tore as if she were ripping a piece of notebook paper in half.

The threads snapped apart, crackling with static electricity.

If the shock pained H?ra, she gave no sign of it.

She only stared down at Madeleine’s knit shirt.

No, not at the shirt.

At Madeleine’s breasts beneath it.

Nobody had looked so openly at her body since she’d put on a habit.

Nobody she’d wanted had ever looked at her body at all.

H?ra’s gaze made it unfurl like a flower reaching for a single bright ray that pierced the clouds.

Pierce me again . Madeleine arched up helplessly into that look.

A soft whimper came from the back of her throat.

“I won’t tear anything else,” H?ra whispered.

“Bare yourself for me. Show me.”

She started unbuttoning her shirt again.

Was it Madeleine’s imagination, or were her hands shaking now?

Madeleine’s certainly were.

She sat up, tugged off her torn sweater, and then her shirt.

And then she held her breath as she removed her plain, white bra.

H?ra slid off her shirt, revealing she wore no bra at all.

She could get away with it.

Her torso was lean, with small breasts.

They were as pale as the rest of her, tipped with light brown nipples.

They were perfect. So was the rest of her.

Firelight gilded the muscles of her long arms and broad shoulders.

Her torso tapered down to a narrow waist. Like this, she looked elemental, primal, strength in her every line.

And yet no outsider could guess at the true power of her frame.

Madeleine opened her mouth to whisper a compliment—not that she knew where to start—when she saw that H?ra was staring fixedly at Madeleine’s breasts too.

Her mouth was open slightly, her eyes glazed.

There were about two seconds to figure out what was happening before H?ra pushed her back down to the floor.

Madeleine lost her breath with the impact, and also lost any desire to protest, because then H?ra bent her head and took Madeleine’s right breast into her mouth.

Madeleine’s hips bucked up.

A sob tore its way out of her throat.

H?ra’s mouth was hot, her tongue rough as she licked Madeleine’s nipple eagerly.

Then the licking became sucking, harsh and hard, enough that it ought to hurt—it did hurt—pain and pleasure, once again?—

And once again, Madeleine moaned, “More.”

There was more.

So much more. Madeleine hadn’t known there could be so much of anything under heaven.

H?ra’s mouth was everywhere: Madeleine’s breasts, and then back to her neck, sucking another mark to life.

Then she kissed her way down Madeleine’s belly, pausing occasionally to bite and lick that too, moaning over every dip and rise of skin.

The whole time, Madeleine could do nothing but dig her hands into H?ra’s strong shoulders and hold on.

Was this more of H?ra’s magic: the ability to paralyze her with pleasure, to destroy her mind?

She should act—touch H?ra in return, demand her own rights.

She should run her hands over H?ra’s long body, make H?ra melt too, make H?ra’s body surge against hers and?—

Even as the thought made her moan again, H?ra unzipped Madeleine’s jeans.

Madeleine’s heart stopped.

So did her breath, when H?ra slid her hand beneath her zipper, beneath…

beneath her underwear…

H?ra’s fingertips brushed the soft hair between Madeleine’s legs, and then her lips.

There wasn’t much room.

H?ra’s hand was pressed tightly against Madeleine’s aching flesh.

An ache could be powerful enough to swallow an entire sea.

Madeleine hadn’t known that before.

She hadn’t known anything before this moment, when H?ra touched her where she’d yearned to be touched by another woman for so long.

“You’re wet,” H?ra said hoarsely.

“So am I.”

Madeleine’s hips rocked against her hand.

H?ra didn’t have to say it so boldly…

it shouldn’t feel so good to hear something so…

“I do this to myself,” H?ra said.

“Almost every night. I think of you and do this to myself.”

“Ah!” The cry escaped Madeleine before she could stop it.

H?ra touched herself?

She stroked these long, strong fingers over her own wetness—maybe she went inside, maybe she throbbed like Madeleine was doing now, so hard she lost her mind?—

“I did it the first night you came back.” H?ra’s breath was quick, unsteady like she was about to lose hold of it.

“I never did before, but then...after I saw you again…”

“H?ra,” Madeleine sobbed, rubbing her hips frantically into that maddening touch.

It wasn’t enough. There should be more, but what more could there be?

H?ra showed her.

She yanked Madeleine’s jeans down to her knees.

It prevented Madeleine from spreading her legs wider, and Madeleine wanted to spread her legs as wide as they could go, wanted to make more room for H?ra to do whatever she wanted.

To claim Madeleine before being claimed in her turn.

“Have you ever done that?” H?ra rasped.

“Thinking about me?”

No, only about my college professor twenty years ago .

Madeleine couldn’t say that.

Or should she? Would it bring that possessive fire back into H?ra’s eyes, make her claim Madeleine at once?—?

“I dreamed about you,” she blurted.

“That same night.”

Oh Lord, she hadn’t meant to say that.

She’d never meant to confess that.

Nobody was supposed to know about that dream, much less the person who’d starred in it.

But when H?ra’s eyes widened, Madeleine couldn’t find the shame she ought to.

She could only groan again.

“About me doing this to you?” H?ra rubbed her knuckle against the throbbing, hot little nub that had driven Madeleine out of her mind so long ago.

The one she’d avoided touching ever since.

“Was it about this, me touching you this way?”

“No, it—it—” She couldn’t say it.

She couldn’t .

“Tell me. Tell me?—”

“Your mouth!”

The words burst out of her, unstoppable as a storm and just as impossible to calm.

They made H?ra stare down at her, her mouth going slack, while Madeleine stared right back.

She’d really just said that.

“My mouth between your legs,” H?ra said.

“You want me there too.”

It wasn’t a question.

That look was back in her eyes.

Consuming. Madeleine could only whimper in response before it.

“Yes,” H?ra breathed.

She looked between Madeleine’s legs, at the thatch of dark hair and her own pale hand.

“That’s right. You were made for my mouth from the start.”

And she slid back, lay over Madeleine’s spread legs, bent her head, and devoured.

Madeleine cried out, high-pitched and helpless.

It wasn’t like fingers.

H?ra’s mouth was warmer and softer, her tongue was wetter, and it seemed to be everywhere at once.

She licked Madeleine into swelling, sparing no time for tenderness—only starvation.

Who was making those noises?

It couldn’t be Madeleine herself, not those abandoned cries that echoed off the cottage’s stone walls.

She wanted to spread her legs wider, and she couldn’t, and somehow that deepened the ache even more.

Her hips rolled until H?ra grabbed them.

Those strong hands kept her from moving, chasing H?ra’s lips and tongue.

She could only take what H?ra gave her.

Take it, and take it, and take it some more.

H?ra licked, sucked, and kissed her until Madeleine heard wet noises.

That was her. By now she was so wet that H?ra’s face was sliding against her.

Her flesh was swollen, practically pulsing.

H?ra had done this in her dream too, all those weeks ago.

She’d taken her time, licking leisurely, tormenting Madeleine.

She’d been in full control of herself.

Not this time. H?ra licked Madeleine like someone who’d starved for eons and wasn’t about to let a feast escape.

She growled against Madeleine’s soaked flesh, made guttural sounds of savoring.

Madeleine sobbed. Her back arched as high as it could.

She couldn’t help herself.

Women did this to each other…

all her life she’d yearned, and now…

She grabbed H?ra’s head and dug her fingers into her hair.

The fire had warmed that too, and it was soft and fine in Madeleine’s hands as she held H?ra’s face against her.

Her hips rose and fell like waves, and H?ra’s grip tightened even more.

She found Madeleine’s clitoris again.

With her tongue this time.

“Oh God,” Madeleine gasped.

H?ra began to lick her there, directly, hungry and quick.

“Oh God. G-god…”

H?ra went faster.

Madeleine’s flesh was so sensitive.

It almost hurt, almost , the pleasure and pain at once, she couldn’t do without both, she was pulling H?ra’s hair now, she was gasping—rising—oh, it was too much, she couldn’t take it, surely she couldn’t?—

H?ra folded her lips around Madeleine’s aching clitoris and began, relentlessly, to suck.

“Oh God !”

Madeleine’s hips bucked up as climax took her for the second time in her life.

The tension of decades broke inside her, a rope made of deprivation finally snapping.

Answered prayer. The face of God.

She closed her eyes, the world too bright to bear while she throbbed and moaned.

So long, it had been so long, and she couldn’t stop moving.

H?ra’s tongue kept her pulsing, made her keep coming, until her throat was raw with crying out.

Too much.

Never enough.

She didn’t want it to end, but it had to, or she’d die.

She’d just come until she died at H?ra’s hands, or mouth, and suddenly there was so much to live for.

Madeleine loosened her grip in H?ra’s hair and pushed her head instead.

“No more…no more, please…”

H?ra gasped against her.

She must have been holding her breath.

She could probably hold her breath for a very long time.

The room was out of focus.

Only H?ra was clear.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, licked her lips, and closed her eyes as if savoring the flavor.

She sighed. Then she surged forward, relentless and implacable, and pressed her mouth to Madeleine’s again.

Madeleine tasted—that must be herself , what H?ra just licked from between her legs.

It was the taste of pleasure.

Did all women taste like this?

Would H?ra?

Their naked breasts pressed together, warm and soft.

The memory of ecstasy lapped between Madeleine’s thighs.

She was boneless, and H?ra’s greedy kiss stole what little breath she had.

“I fuck myself,” H?ra rasped.

“That’s what it’s called. Now I want you to do it to me instead.”

Madeleine made a soft, wheezing noise.

“I like how my fingers feel in me.” H?ra grabbed Madeleine’s wrist. Her hand trembled.

“Yours will be different. I’ve thought about it so many times, do it to me now , please!”

Her breath was hot on Madeleine’s mouth.

She was all strength and salt, but for the first time, Madeleine wondered if she might not make H?ra weak and sweet instead.

Was she dreaming? Not this time.

H?ra’s jeans button was real beneath Madeleine’s hands as she fumbled with it, and then the zipper, while H?ra rose up on her knees.

Her legs shook on either side of Madeleine’s.

Madeleine yanked the zipper down and tugged at H?ra’s jeans.

H?ra helped, pushing down the jeans to her knees, and then down to her ankles, where her boots stopped her progress.

Her underwear followed.

They were both half dressed on the floor, couldn’t even get their pants all the way off; that wasn’t how it was supposed to happen, was it?

For your first time, weren’t you supposed to be naked in a bed, taking your time?

She tried to imagine making slow, sweet love with H?ra in bed, and the image faded away like mist in sunlight.

No, Madeleine couldn’t make H?ra sweet.

She could, perhaps, make her something else.

Upright on her knees, H?ra tugged Madeleine’s hand between her naked, pale thighs.

There was black hair there, softer and sparser than the hair on H?ra’s head.

It covered soft lips, and when Madeleine’s fingertips brushed them, H?ra gasped.

“In me!”

With H?ra’s urging, she slid not one finger, but two, up into soft heat she’d never dared imagine.

Soft, tight, wet heat.

Because of her. H?ra was wet because of Madeleine.

Here was the proof, clenching on Madeleine’s fingers as H?ra tossed her head back and groaned.

To the end of her days, Madeleine would never forget what it felt like to be inside another woman for the first time.

“Oh my God,” she gasped, looking up at H?ra, stunned.

“Oh mercy.”

“No mercy.” H?ra rolled her hips, her head still tilted back as she began to move on Madeleine’s fingers.

She thrust her hips back and forth.

“Oh—your fingers are smaller—but they feel so good .” She began to move faster.

H?ra was so wet that Madeleine’s fingers made noises going in and out.

She was buried inside H?ra, and white liquid was starting to drip on her knuckles.

What did it taste like?

She had to know. She couldn’t wait.

Gasping and greedy, Madeleine stroked H?ra with her other hand as well, swiping her thumb between those lips and seeking moisture.

She found it, slick, and licked it off her thumb.

Salty and sharp.

H?ra cried, “Do that again!”

Madeleine did.

She moved her fingers in H?ra.

She kept her gaze fixed on H?ra’s own as she stroked with her thumb again, brought it to her mouth, and sucked.

And with that, H?ra came.

It couldn’t be anything else.

She clenched inside, throbbing around Madeleine’s fingers.

Her hips arched forward and she cried out, never looking away from Madeleine.

“Taste me,” she gasped, “ taste me ,” and then clenched again, cried out, and folded forward until she crouched over Madeleine on all fours.

Madeleine kept moving her fingers and licking her thumb, savoring a flavor so good it could only be called divine.

She only stopped when H?ra finally grabbed her wrist again and groaned.

When she slid her fingers out, they were coated.

Now there was even more to taste.

It might have horrified her once, might have struck her as dirty, but this had happened because Madeleine had pleased H?ra.

Because they’d come together to please each other.

Because for the first time, Madeleine had dared to reach for happiness instead of shame.

“Yes,” H?ra whispered, and like any glutton, any creature of pure appetite, Madeleine licked her fingers clean.