Page 24 of Scandalous Passions

Yet not nearly enough.

With a frustrated whimper, Marjorie attempted to kiss her back. To her relief and delight, Janet firmed her lips and pressed harder. Soon she felt the flick of Janet’s tongue, once, twice. Demanding entry? Uncertain, she tentatively opened her mouth, and her reward was a much deeper and more intimate kiss with a pointed tongue that rubbed against her own, a kiss that sent jolts of hot sensation darting through her body and left her squirming on the chaise.

Overwhelmed, unable to catch her breath, she pulled away.

“Marjorie?” said Janet, he gaze concerned.

“I…I can’t breathe,” she whispered. “My gown bodice is too tight. May I…may I take it off?”

Her guardian nodded, her eyes glittering like emeralds. “Of course.”

…

Marjorie was so beautiful. So innocently sensual.

It was taking every bit of willpower she possessed to move slowly in the continuation of this virgin’s awakening, for a first kiss was equally important as a first release. Some might say she should have started her lessons with a kiss, but it was her firm opinion that a woman needed to know her own body, her own mind, before sharing it with another.

Pressing her thighs together against a fierce wave of arousal, Janet distracted herself by helping her ward remove her gown and kirtle so she wore only her stockings and shift. The linen garment might be modest, but it barely constrained Marjorie’s ample breasts, and her nipples jutted lewdly against the fabric, an unspoken plea to be sucked and bitten and stroked.

This time when Janet leaned in to kiss her, with merciless self-restraint she allowed her own breasts to briefly brush the younger woman’s, a tease of soft flesh and hard nipples that promised the world and yet delivered nothing more.

Marjorie moaned.

Stifling her raging lust, Janet feigned confusion. “Something the matter, dear one?”

“I…ah…”

“Tell me,” she said sternly.

“My nipples ache terribly. I want to touch them,” Marjorie mumbled.

“Touch them how? Stroke? Circle? Pinch?”

Her ward bit her kiss-swollen lip. “I’ve only stroked them. Never pinched.”

Janet nodded. “Depends entirely on the person. Some dislike having their nipples touched at all. Some prefer a light stroking. But others enjoy a hint of pain to heighten sensation and find a pinch very pleasurable.”

“Show me?”

“One moment, my dear,” said Janet as she sat back on the chaise. She was so unbearably aroused, a moment was needed to clear her head and regain control.

Taking a deep breath, she allowed the tranquility of the solar to drape around her like the softest quilt. It was already her favorite room in the manor, created solely for relaxation and privacy from the noise, the bustle, the purpose of the rooms on the ground floor. Today the solar would host a lesson in seduction, but the warmth of the sun shining through the large windows could never compete with the heat between her and Marjorie.

With Sir Lachlan, her lust had been fierce and absolute, a man and a woman who could indulge themselves and had done so because they were a bachelor and a widow with no real restrictions placed upon them. But once had not been enough, nor twice, and in truth she could not see herself willingly giving up her gruff, deadly, and yet delightfully yielding Highland Beast anytime soon. Nor could she deny Marjorie the lessons she so wanted and needed.

By the saints, this was complicated. And the longer she walked this cliff edge, the higher the risk to her heart as it softened toward them both. Her mind already warned her to defy the king and send Sir Lachlan and Marjorie away, but she was on thin ice with James. He had sent a very curt letter expressing his displeasure at the slaying of Lord Kerr and his men; even with the arrows and the threats, the last thing he wanted was a rise in tension between Lowland and Highland. Besides, even the thought of Sir Lachlan and Marjorie gone—knowing that future husbands and wives might never understand their true natures and needs, leaving them lonely and unfulfilled—made her decidedly irritable. Hot tempered in a way only a red-haired Highland lass could be.

“Janet? Are you angry with me?”

At Marjorie’s small-voiced question, the dismay on her face, Janet silently berated herself for causing the younger woman anxiety. Where was her command? Her famed skill and experience in lusty matters? She’d admonished her ward last night for not talking before acting, and here she was making the same mistake.

“Not at all, my dear,” she replied swiftly, cupping her cheek and tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear before trailing her fingers down to the tops of Marjorie’s breasts. “Forgive my lapse. I lost my head a little, which is not at all the thing when giving a lesson. Shall we continue?”

Marjorie shuddered, arching her back a little. “Please. Touch me.”

Deftly, Janet tugged down the bodice of her ward’s shift to reveal one creamy, rose pink–tipped breast. Her mouth watered to suck the swollen nipple, to scrape it with her teeth, to bite it. But again she tormented herself with restraint, merely circling the tight bud with her fingertip before sliding one finger on either side and gently squeezing.

Gasping, Marjorie cupped her breast and offered it up higher. “More. Harder. Please, please do it harder.”