Page 11 of Scandalous Passions

Taking a deep breath, she obeyed, and cool air ruffled the thick tangle of brown curls covering her mound. A new scent teased her senses, and she wrinkled her nose at the unusual spiced muskiness of it.

Oh no. The scent came from down there.

Embarrassed, Marjorie glanced up at Janet. Yet there was no dismay or disgust there, only smiling approval. “What should I do now?”

“Stroke yourself. Feel how soft your inner thighs are.”

But her hands remained attached to her gown, seemingly unable to break free from the hold of convent life. “I can’t,” she choked out, bracing herself for a scolding.

Instead, Janet nodded sympathetically. “You think I don’t understand what is swirling around that pretty little head of yours, but I do. Years of enforced shame. Of being told your body wasn’t beautiful and needed to be corrected. Of being denied what it craved. This first time, it might be easier if I showed rather than told you.”

Marjorie’s eyes widened. “You would touch me? Guide my hand?”

“If you wish. Come and sit in front of me.”

As if in a dream, she moved across the swaying wagon and settled herself between Janet’s splayed thighs, her head resting on Janet’s shoulder. It was the strangest thing in the world sitting so close to another woman, her back pressed hard against breasts, her body encircled by another. And yet it felt wonderful. She’d never felt so warm and safe. So cared for. More importantly, she’d chosen to do this.

Marjorie held out her right hand, and Janet covered it with her own. Then her guardian gently pushed both down between Marjorie’s legs, gliding back and forth along her inner thigh, brushing the crisp hair between her legs but not parting it.

A soft whimper escaped her lips, and her hips jerked, trying to force touch to her aching mound.

Janet tsked. “Naughty.”

“Are…are you going to strap me?”

“Quite unnecessary. I shall simply withhold pleasure until you behave.”

Marjorie shuddered at the murmured words that tickled her ear. “I’ll be good.”

“Delighted to hear it.”

Soon Janet guided their hands down again, parting her nether curls and teasing her most secret flesh with feather-light strokes. The sweet torment made her pant, but she’d learned her lesson and neither closed her thighs nor thrust her mound higher. Her reward was a caress to her slick, petal-soft folds, and the briefest nudge of a spot so sensitive she cried out.

“Is that…?”

“It is indeed your pearl. Small but sensitive and craving affection.”

“Like me,” Marjorie replied with an unsteady giggle. “I…ooooh…”

How can anything feel so good?

Their fingertips were slick with musky wetness, and now Janet guided them to surround Marjorie’s swollen pearl. Circling. Rubbing. Unable to stop herself, she rocked her mound against their interlaced fingers, desperate for ease. As if she understood, Janet applied firmer pressure with the heel of her hand, forcing Marjorie’s fingers to cup her mound and shallowly penetrate her entrance with a fingertip.

Sounds escaped her mouth, raw and wild. Something was happening inside of her, something overwhelming that would change her forever. A part of her resisted, thrashing in an attempt to escape the intense sensation, while the rest begged for more.

“No, do not fight it,” said Janet harshly, holding her firmly. “You are going to be a good lass and spend for me. I want to hear your pleasure. Feel every spasm of that sweet virgin cunt.”

At the wicked words, a mighty wave of sensation began at her core and flowed outward with a rush. Barely able to muffle the scream that tore from her throat, Marjorie surrendered helplessly to her first release.

Eventually she slumped back against Janet’s chest, shaking.

“Shhh, there now,” Janet crooned, smoothing her hair. “How did that feel?”

“I don’t even know how to describe it. Like I swooned. Or soared. Maybe both,” she replied, knowing she’d sinned—with another woman, at that—yet too befuddled in the aftermath of intense pleasure, the sheer delight of being held and touched, to care.

“Let me—”

Something thudded into the side of the wagon, and they both froze. A heartbeat later, an arrowhead pierced the leather cover, and as Marjorie shrieked in fear, Janet shoved her onto the wagon floor before protectively covering her.