Her Gift - Bundle Pack (2 page)

“What sort of things?”

“About pleasure.” She held up a hand
when Charlotte began to sputter. “But since you’ve no interest in
learning, perhaps we can talk.” She pushed Charlotte’s shoulder so
that she reclined against the back of the tub. Charlotte’s breasts
rose just above the water, and she settled deeper into the tub,
until they were hidden. “Perfect,” Mary said on a whisper, not
drawing her gaze from Charlotte’s breasts.

“There is nothing perfect about my
body.”

“That’s what your husband told you?”
She arched her delicate blond brows at Charlotte.

Charlotte obviously didn’t have to
answer, because Mary just continued. “He was wrong.” She looked
directly into Charlotte’s face when she said it.

“My hips are too wide. My breasts too
small.” He’d said that and more. Much more. Each statement more
hurtful than the next.

Mary’s hand dipped into the water and
cupped one breast in a sudsy grip. “Your breast fills my hand,” she
said quietly. “Look.”

Charlotte looked down hesitant to
verify that Mary’s hand did, indeed, cup her breast in a firm,
comfortable grip. Her husband’s grip had never been firm or
comfortable. It had always hurt. Or shamed. And one was just as bad
as the other.

“Stop thinking about him,” Mary
whispered with a soft smile. “Think about me. About the way this
feels.” She slowly stroked her thumb through the suds on
Charlotte’s breast. Mary was all Charlotte could think about.
Mary’s hand, Mary’s gentle touch, Mary’s soft voice, Mary’s silky
tone. “Have you ever reached climax?” Mary asked.

Charlotte had enough married friends
who talked to know what climax was. But she wasn’t certain she’d
ever had the pleasure. Mary laughed. “If you’re not certain, it
never happened,” she said. Then, her voice a silky whisper, she
prompted, “I can help you try it, just this once. No pressure. No
man pushing you on. Just you and me.” She took Charlotte’s hand and
cupped it around her other breast. “Touch yourself,” she
urged.

This was wrong. So wrong. But
Charlotte’s blood was thumping so loudly in her ears that she could
hear it. “Something is happening to my body that I don’t
understand.”

“I know,” Mary whispered. Her free
hand dipped into the water between Charlotte’s legs.

“Don’t,” she cried. Charlotte clamped
her legs closed tightly together trapping Mary’s hands in its place
above her curls. She sat forward, causing her breasts to rise above
the water.

“Relax,” the woman whispered. Then her
head dipped and she drew Charlotte’s wet nipple into her
mouth.

Heat immediately rushed through
Charlotte’s body, a heat unlike any she’d ever felt before. She
melted there in the bath, as Mary’s wicked little tongue tickled
her nipple. Then she moved to the other breast, treating it in the
same gentle manner. Charlotte relaxed, freeing Mary’s hand. When
Mary lifted her head, Charlotte arched her back, wanting to pull
her back down to her breasts. But then her hand began to play in
Charlotte’s curls, and Charlotte’s breath caught in her throat.
With her gentle, silky fingers, she parted Charlotte’s folds and
stole inside, stroking across that part of her that
pounded.

“Oh, goodness,” Charlotte cried,
laying her head back against the tub. She watched the satisfied
smirk on Mary’s face, and didn’t care. Because what she was doing
between her thighs was so deliciously wicked that she wouldn’t dare
complain. This was what His Grace wanted. This was what His Grace
would get. Just this once, she would allow herself this
pleasure.

“Can it be this way with a man?” she
asked quietly, a little sob in her voice that made her want to
cringe. But the moment passed with the next pass across that
nub.

“With the right man, yes,” Mary
affirmed. “It can be better. It will be better with Trent than you
could ever imagine. He’s a patient and powerful lover.”

The word powerful seemed out of place.
She didn’t want a powerful man. She wanted this gentle
woman.

“I’m here to show you what’s possible.
Nothing more,” Mary reminded her.

Charlotte simply nodded, words
escaping her. Mary’s hand continued its gentle exploration. One
finger stole inside her, and then slid out just as quickly, taking
Charlotte’s breath with it. That finger slipped through the heat of
her, and then she used it to stroke across the little nub that was
nearly so tender it was painful. In a very good way.

“That feels nice?” Mary asked.
Charlotte watched her through hooded lashes, her head back on the
edge of the tub.

Charlotte began to arch her hips,
rising to meet that questing little hand. Mary chuckled. “I’ll take
that as a yes,” she laughed.

But then she stopped. She withdrew her
hand. She stood up. Charlotte very nearly begged her to come back.
But all good things must end, Charlotte assumed. “Come along,” Mary
urged as she held out a towel. “I want to taste you,” she whispered
to Charlotte as she dried her off.

“T-taste me?” Charlotte’s voice
quaked.

“Yes,” Mary whispered, her lips a mere
breath from hers. “Kiss me,” she dared with a smile. Then she
touched her lips to Charlotte’s. Charlotte tentatively brushed her
lips against Mary’s, keeping her lips closed and firm. “Soften for
me,” Mary urged on a whisper. “My lips are soft. Yours can be, too.
Open,” she commanded, and then the tip of her tongue teased at
Charlotte’s lips. On Charlotte’s gasp, she swept inside, invading
her mouth like a conquering warrior. She stepped forward, backing
Charlotte toward the bed as she continued to wreak havoc on her
senses. “I worried you would rebel,” she said when she finally
lifted her head.

Charlotte had to drag herself from the
passion induced haze she was in so she could respond. “I did, too.”
A shiver stole up her body. “I should.”

Mary sounded much too cocky when she
laughed and said, “But you won’t.” She pointed toward the bed. “Lay
back.”

Charlotte scurried across the bed, and
lay back, resting on her elbows, not at all ashamed of her
nakedness. Not now. Not now that Mary had tasted her breasts. Not
since she’d had her hands in the most private places she had. Now
there was nothing to be ashamed of.

“You want me to make you climax,” Mary
said as she lifted the edge of her dress and climbed up on the
bed.

“Can you take this off?” Charlotte
asked, fingering the soft material of her skirt.

Mary sighed heavily. “Alas, I am not
allowed to find pleasure. Unless my master gives it to me.” She
brushed Charlotte’s hair from the side of her face. “Perhaps
another time, we’ll ask for permission and we can pleasure each
other. With our men in the room. Watching.” She nibbled on
Charlotte’s lower lip between each word, licking into her, the same
way her finger had dipped into the cavern of her heat a moment
before.

“Watching?” Charlotte gasped. She
probably sounded like an addled parrot. But she didn’t
care.

She shrugged. “They like to watch.”
She looked down at Charlotte’s breasts and cupped one in each firm
hand, lifting their small weight to her lips. “These really are
perfect, you know,” she said as she sucked one nipple into her
mouth. She played about the other with the pad of her thumb, until
Charlotte was trembling in her grasp, her head hanging back, her
breaths leaving her in gasps. Then she dropped her breasts and
began a slow and leisurely lick down toward her curls.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to taste you,” Mary
laughed.

“Down there?” Certainly, that wasn’t
what she meant.

She laughed again, still that silky
sound that made Charlotte even wetter.

Without stopping, Mary
parted her folds and looked down at her. Charlotte, for a moment,
wanted to hide herself in shame. But then one long finger slid
inside her and she licked across that little nub of pleasure.
Charlotte nearly leapt from the bed. But then she stilled and
watched, her mouth hanging open in surprise.
This
was what it was all about? This
tender, soft touch? It could be like this? She licked faster, and
faster, and Charlotte found herself arching to meet her. She
reached down and brushed the hair from Mary’s brow with a tender
touch.

“A cock can feel this nice, too.” Mary
lifted her head long enough to say, “You needed this.”

“I did need this.” Tears burned at the
backs of her lashes. Tears for all the years she’d lost. Tears for
the man who’d sought to please her by giving her this lady. Tears
for this woman, who gave so selflessly.

“Don’t cry,” Mary said, pressing a
kiss to Charlotte’s inner thigh. Her thumb took over her tongue’s
wicked little movements, and one finger joined the other already
inside her. Charlotte pressed back against the gentle invasion.
Then Mary crooked a finger, and swept it against some part of her
she didn’t know existed.

“Oh, God,” Charlotte cried. “Please
don’t stop,” she begged. Something was taking over her body. Her
legs were trembling. Her bottom was arching in rhythm with those
searching fingers. Her legs lay open, giving Mary all the access
she needed. Then Mary latched onto that little nub of sensation
with her mouth, and alternated between licking and suckling gently.
And when she found a rhythm between the licking and suckling, waves
of pleasure crashed over Charlotte’s body, stealing her very soul
from her in that moment. She melted and quivered as she climaxed.
As Mary wrung all the pleasure from her body. It was only when
Charlotte pulled away, a little too sensitive for more stimulation,
that Mary slowed. Then she stopped. She pulled her fingers from
Charlotte’s sopping wet sheath, wiped them on the nearby towel and
joined Charlotte on the bed.

Charlotte lay there beside her
quivering, weakness seeking into her limbs as her heartbeat slowed
to normal. She covered her eyes with her forearm. “I didn’t know it
could be like that,” she whispered, her voice cracking on the last.
Tears seeped from beneath her arm, she knew. But that was the most
beautiful things she’d ever experienced. “Thank you,” she sobbed,
rolling toward Mary. Mary let her rest her head on her shoulder,
and stroked her hair as she quieted, her sobs becoming gentle
hiccups.

“You’re welcome,” she said quickly,
dropping a kiss on her forehead. Then she patted Charlotte’s bare
bottom. “We need to get you dressed. Trent will be here
momentarily.”

Charlotte didn’t feel like she could
move.

“Up,” Mary coaxed. Then she got up
herself and began to roll a clean pair of stockings over
Charlotte’s feet and up her calves. It tickled when she got to her
thighs. But she tied the garters in place and rolled her over. She
popped Charlotte’s bottom hard enough to sting.

“Ow,” Charlotte cried. But it hadn’t
hurt. She got up and allowed Mary to finish dressing
her.

“Who chose these clothes?” Charlotte
asked.

“Someone on His Grace’s staff. He
probably went directly to your dressmaker to have something new
made.” Mary’s eyes met Charlotte’s. “You’re a fortunate woman. He
does not take lovers casually, despite his reputation. He sees
something in you.”

“You saw something in me,” Charlotte
prompted hesitantly.

She tweaked her nose. “Because you’re
something special to see.”

When Charlotte was all dressed, she
spun to face the looking glass. “Do I look all right for
him?”

“You look beautiful.” Mary bobbed a
quick curtsy. “Thank you for letting me serve you tonight, my
lady,” she said with a cheeky grin.

“Have you any idea where he’s taking
me?”

But Mary didn’t answer. Instead, she
slipped out the door as though she’d never been there. Only the
smile on Charlotte’s face was evidence. A moment later, a knock
sounded on the door. “I’m here to dress your hair, miss,” a maid
called out. She didn’t enter the room. Perhaps she knew what had
been going on in the room. Charlotte hoped not.

“Enter,” Charlotte called absently.
The girl dressed her hair, fluffed her dress and informed her that
His Grace was waiting below stairs for her.

When she opened the door, she went to
the top of the stairs, and found His Grace standing at the bottom,
glancing at his time piece with a worried expression. “I hope you
enjoyed your bath,” he said revealing none of the mirth or scorn
she’d expected to see on his face. “And that everything was to your
agreement.”

Heat suffused her face. “It
was.”

He held out his crooked
arm.

“Your Grace,” she began.

“Trent,” he said with a small smile.
“I give you leave to use it.”

“Where are we going,
Trent?”

“The Duke and Duchess of Charburton
are having a gathering.”

Charlotte tripped over her own
slipper. “The duke and duchess?”

“Yes,” he teased. “Don’t worry. It’s
very informal.”

When arrived at the duke’s manor
house, the duke and duchess met the hosts at the door. Her Grace
was a regal creature, with her tumbling golden curls piled high
atop her head. Her neck arched delicately to reveal naked shoulders
and a beautiful dip in her bodice. It wasn’t until she looked
directly into the duchess’s eyes that she got the shock of a
lifetime. “Your Grace,” Charlotte sputtered. She dropped into a
quick curtsy.