Her Lady's Fortune

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Her Lady's Fortune Page 2

by Renée Dahlia


  Rosalie’s eyes widened slightly as Priya hinted at having desires for men as well. If that was true, Rosalie’s first impression of Priya’s naivety was wrong. “And therefore I’m a safer option?”

  “When I could easily fall in lust with any lovely body, why not preference the people who aren’t going to have power over me. Legally, at least.” Youth and innocence didn’t always coexist and Priya appeared to have all of one and less of the other. Temptation... No, pure lust increased with a rush of heat across her abdomen.

  “I see.” When said like that, Rosalie couldn’t help but agree. She’d never seen the point of men, although she admired them for setting up the world for their advantage. The Bloomsbury set included several people who lived and loved beyond society’s gender boundaries, but the sheer pragmatism of Priya’s decision to chase pleasure with women was... Rosalie ran her tongue behind her teeth, uncharacteristically uncertain. Was she charmed by Priya’s decision to preference women because she retained legal power over herself, or was she bothered by it?

  “And given that you dragged me into this room, I take it you want the same thing I do.” Priya tugged slightly at her dress, obviously unaware of Rosalie’s mixed thoughts, and the top button popped open. “Oh gosh. Look at that.”

  “It is an incredible dress.” Rosalie heard the crack in her voice and her mind blanked, unable to see beyond the rising mist of lust that beat like a drum behind her breastbone.

  “Docuillet.” Priya shrugged as she mentioned the famous designer. “Paris of course. You are most welcome to assist me in removing it.”

  Rosalie pushed away from window she’d been leaning on, focused only on the hint of flesh that Priya had deliberately exposed. The rounded curve of breast. “Buttons.”

  “Yes.” Priya lifted her chin. The last fragment of Rosalie’s mind that could manage thought realised something.

  “You’ve done this before.”

  Priya nodded, a gentle soft movement, almost imperceptible. “Didn’t everyone explore while at school?”

  Rosalie reached out and touched Priya’s chin and a pulse of energy rushed up her arm. “Not at the school I went to.” Presumably Priya went to one of those rich young lady finishing schools. Rosalie had had governesses and when she outgrew those, she’d done an apprenticeship at the bank.

  “Oh, now that is a shame. It ought to be a rite of passage for all young girls to explore the pleasures of their body with school chums.” Priya leaned forward, her breath slightly minty, and Rosalie knew exactly what she wanted to do. She was only an inch or two taller than Priya, so it was easy to slide her hand to cup Priya’s cheek, pull her closer and kiss her. The hum of lust roared to life, like an opera singer projecting her voice from a balcony, making all the moments leading from the front door to here seem like a pittance. She practically vibrated with need as her lips touched Priya’s mouth, and it wasn’t anything she’d done but simply the way Priya responded. With enthusiasm and a need which matched Rosalie. Not many of her partners had the ability to take charge like this, and the tussle between them grew stronger as Priya stepped closer and pressed her lithe body against Rosalie, heat burning, threatening to melt Rosalie at the knees. Rosalie flicked her tongue between the seam of Priya’s lips, half a question and half pushing for more. Priya parted for her, and Rosalie stroked her tongue into Priya’s mouth. Never before had a kiss made her close her eyes so she could focus on taste, but Priya tasted as fresh and gorgeous as she looked. She was either a quick learner, or more experienced than she looked, as she stroked Rosalie’s tongue and deepened their kiss. The world around faded away. Rosalie wrapped one hand around Priya’s waist and tugged her closer.

  “Too close and you won’t be able to undress me.”

  “Patience.” Rosalie pressed a little kiss to the corner of Priya’s mouth.

  “What good is patience?”

  “Why rush?” Rosalie wanted to take her time and rejoice in the way Priya made her feel. It’d been so long since someone had made her wet so quickly.

  Priya’s mouth quirked up at the corner. “I didn’t come here to meet a four percenter.”

  “Sometimes a long term investment works out best.”

  “And many times, business succeeds by taking a risk for a rapid return.” The glint in Priya’s eye sent another surge of heat through Rosalie’s veins. Her respect for Priya surged and that annoying little flutter in her chest hoped against hope that she’d found someone she could come home to after a long day at the bank. But given the way Priya’s hands moved confidently to undo her dress, it was obvious they didn’t want the same thing. Short term pleasure would suffice for now because the rush of it pushed away Rosalie’s dream with a surge of heat, like the roar of steam releasing from a train. She wasn’t going to let Priya have it all her way though, and she kissed her again, using her hand on Priya’s head to change the angles, deepen the kiss, and distract her from her task. A giddiness made her knees a little weaker as they kissed. Rosalie wanted a bed and more time than they had. She’d visited here often enough to know that this room wouldn’t be empty for long.

  “Oh, these corsets are such a nuisance.” Priya mumbled against her cheek and Rosalie glanced down to see that Priya had undone all the buttons on Rosalie’s blouse. She hadn’t changed before coming here and was still in her suit from the day’s work at the bank. A starched shirt of a style similar to a man, that she had specially tailored for her, and a floor-length woollen skirt, again in the same fabric as a man’s suit. It was her own style, invented for the job, to demonstrate her importance and her position. No one would assume she didn’t belong in a male dominated world. Underneath she wore a Gibson corset designed to keep her shape in the current feminine style, long and slender. Her corset began halfway down her breasts and went all the way over her hips. She didn’t use the longer version of the Gibson as it was difficult to sit and work in. For all the time she spent at work, she also walked twice a day to maintain her posture. She dared not give anyone a reason to criticise her.

  “Let me show you a trick.” If Priya wanted speed, then Rosalie could give it to her.

  “Oh?”

  Rosalie didn’t answer, but slowly turned and backed Priya towards the windowsill. “Sit here.” Rosalie swept her hands all over Priya’s body, down the silk fabric of her dress, until she knelt before her on the floor, with the hem of the dress in her fists. Priya rested her hands on Rosalie’s shoulders and she shivered. They barely knew each other, although their kisses were perfectly compatible. Rosalie slowly inched Priya’s gown upwards, exposing the slender stocking encased legs. As she pushed her skirt up to her mid-thigh, Priya’s fingers tightened on her shoulders and Rosalie licked her dry lips. With the gown carefully rolled up to the edge of the long corset, Rosalie gathered the fabric into one hand, freeing the other to explore. Priya’s stocking were hooked to the base of the long corset, the undergarment finishing just at the apex of her thighs. A hint of black curls peeked out from under the rigid corset and Rosalie sucked in a deep breath.

  “No drawers?”

  Priya made a little noise, as if she both cleared her throat and moaned at the same time. “More efficient this way.”

  “You came here to be seduced?” Rosalie could barely speak.

  “Didn’t you? Doesn’t everyone?”

  Rosalie glanced up. “I suppose they do, in a fashion. Can I?” It’d been a long time since Rosalie had been wooed by anyone here, although she’d sought pleasure on occasion in a disconnected bored way that satisfied her body but not her mind. She missed this; the chase, the hesitance, the exploration of someone new. The challenge.

  Priya shifted, parting her legs a fraction. “Please.” She removed one hand from Rosalie’s shoulder and took her dress from Rosalie’s fist in an elegant motion that demonstrated her care for the gown. Rosalie’s fingers trembled as she reached out and traced along the tops of Priya’s stockings. Her skin was warm, soft, and when Rosalie stroked both hands up the insides of
Priya’s thighs, the moan from them both hummed in the air.

  “Please.” Priya spread her legs wider again, her throaty plea sending a shiver down Rosalie’s spine. She responded with a slow exploration; the tips of her fingers brushing over Priya’s curls and Priya’s hand tightened on her shoulder in response. When she dipped her fingers into Priya’s soft wet centre, a musky fragrance filled the air and Rosalie breathed it in deep down into her lungs. She squeezed her own thighs together, tight, as she explored, carefully listening to Priya’s panting needy breaths.

  “Like this?”

  “Yes, I like that.”

  It wasn’t quite what Rosalie had asked, but the answer was perfect. She leaned closer and pressed a kiss to Priya’s inner thigh, then slowly licked her skin, all the way up to the ambrosia at the top. Rosalie nipped and sucked at Priya, at the swollen bundle of nerves at the top of her vulva, tasting her wetness and enjoying the way her lips and chin were covered in Priya’s delicious moisture. Priya’s hips bucked towards her, and Rosalie groaned. She sunk one thumb deep inside her and used her other hand to grab Priya’s bottom, perched on the edge of the window sill. This was her favourite thing, to nibble and suck at a woman until her knees melted and her thighs shook. With Priya’s salty rich taste on her tongue, Rosalie was in heaven. Her body went soft, and it felt like her insides were mimicking the effervescent fizz of champagne. Priya wasn’t a passenger in this interaction either, not from the way her hand gripped Rosalie’s scalp, her fingers threaded through her hair, and every moan came with a sharp tug which sent more sensual prickles racing up and down Rosalie’s spine. Damn, she was going to come from this. How could she lose control while being the one to dish out pleasure? She’d gone into this moment thinking she was the more experienced of the two, the one with more control, but it wasn’t one-sided and Priya was going to be the undoing of her. Priya tasted better than anything she’d ever put in her mouth, and the erotic sounds she made as Rosalie toyed with her quim made Rosalie want to do this for hours. Until she was starved for actual food.

  “Deeper.” Priya shifted slightly. A swathe of fabric landed on Rosalie’s head with a soft whoosh, as Priya wrapped her other hand around the back of Rosalie’s neck. Rosalie scraped her teeth over Priya’s quim, then dragged herself up to her feet. She kept her hands in place, one hand on Priya’s backside, the other with two fingers as deep as she could reach inside Priya. The gown hung over her forearms, awkwardly in the way of her view, but somehow more erotic by hiding Priya’s curls from her gaze.

  “What are you doing?” Priya asked, and Rosalie kissed her hard. After a few minutes, she pulled back for breath.

  “This.” She bent her head again and sucked on Priya’s nipple, pert through the camisole. The current style of corset began under the nipples, giving her mouth easy access.

  “Oh.” Priya’s moan became a word of wonder, and Rosalie sucked her nipple into her mouth. At the same time, she thrust with her fingers, and brushed her thumb over Priya’s most sensitive peak. Priya came undone, her head falling backwards against the window as she cried out with pleasure. Rosalie lifted her head to kiss her and drink in her breathy moans.

  “Oh, thank you.” Priya grazed her hands slowly down Rosalie’s spine and gripped her backside. She was so close, it wouldn’t take much to slip her hands down Rosalie’s backside, and inside her. Rosalie used both her hands to hitch her skirt around her waist. Priya held her hands for a moment and leaned forward to kiss her. Rosalie’s heart skipped a beat. No, she couldn’t read too much into it, but damn if it didn’t make her want to keep Priya forever. An impossibility. The longing disappeared almost before it could form into a proper thought, because Priya’s clever hands moved just as she imagined, with a long stroke over her buttocks and between her legs. Because Priya’s arms were wrapped around her, their bodies were pulled tight together, with Priya’s head tucked low between Rosalie’s breasts. As Priya pressed a long finger inside her, Rosalie begged for more. Actually begged.

  “You are so wet.” Priya explored along and played, and each stroke sent a rush of heat surging inside Rosalie.

  “Tasting you did that to me.”

  Priya glanced up with her brown eyes sparkling, and her mouth twitched at the corners. “And one day I hope to return the favour, but I think you don’t need that now.”

  “I just need you.” Rosalie’s body was taut, ready, on edge. All it would take was...

  “Yes, oh, God. That’s it.” A stream of needy words flew out of Rosalie’s mouth as Priya fingered her with her arms wrapped around her. Desperate and quick, slick in her wetness, and Rosalie ground her hips against Priya’s body in the same rhythm. Wanting, wanting, until her orgasm hit her with the strength of a thunderstorm. The best bloody orgasm she’d had in years and definitely worth the stream of curses that flew unbidden from her mouth.

  After a long pause, and many loud breaths from them both, Priya tilted her head. “Such delightful language from a bank manager. Do you talk like that when you lose money?”

  Rosalie could barely form a word. “No. It’s just... for you. That was special.”

  Priya stretched up to kiss her on the forehead and their height difference meant her fingers slipped out of her. Rosalie wanted to squeeze her legs together and keep her, like a silly youth. She could get addicted to this, the way Priya made her feel alive and free again.

  “Special enough for such language.”

  Rosalie frowned. “I didn’t pick you for a prude?”

  “No.” Priya laughed. “My family run a ship building company. I’ve heard it all before. But from a staid bank manager... Actually, no, you have a skilful tongue. It’s not that much of a surprise.”

  If anyone had asked her, Rosalie would have said she was beyond blushing—too old for such nonsense—but Priya made her cheeks ablaze.

  “Thank you.”

  “Oh, no. Thank you. I had a marvellous time.” Priya ran her hands down Rosalie’s arms until she reached her hands, then gave them a squeeze. “Shall we join the others?”

  “I need a few minutes to compose myself.” Rosalie felt almost hungover, swoony, after that. Her knees were wobbly. She couldn’t imagine walking out to see her friends and definitely wasn’t going to be any good for conversation for a while. In fact, she thought she might just go home. Would Priya come with her for more?

  “Sure. Take your time.” Priya slid away from her, shook out her dress, undid her buttons with competent fingers, then turned to look over her shoulder. “I’ll see you later?” How could Priya appear so put together with a simple flick of fabric? It was unfair given how unbalanced Rosalie felt.

  “Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss it.” Rosalie wanted more than to see her again later. She wanted to keep Priya with a desperation that was, quite frankly, unseemly. It would take her some time before she was ready for company. She managed a little wave as if it only mattered as much as it appeared to matter to Priya and stood in the room with her arms hanging helplessly at her side, unable to move further until Priya left. As soon as the room was empty, Rosalie collapsed into a chair, her breath still ragged and her shirt still spread wide with her corset exposed. She licked her bottom lip, remnants of Priya’s salty taste filling her mouth again. What on earth had just happened? Was it just her age that meant she took longer to recover? She wasn’t that bloody old. Just completely overwhelmed by a stunning orgasm with a beautiful woman. She needed to go home and recover, to regain her sense of purpose. Further conversation had been rendered impossible. How could one orgasm with a fresh faced, smooth talking young woman bring her to her metaphorical knees?

  Chapter 1

  Late summer 1919.

  Priya slowed her steps, each one more reluctant as she approached Rosalie Sanderson’s office. She cursed her brother for deciding she should oversee their latest charity project. It was her idea, she should be thrilled to lead this one, but every time she entered this bank to talk about Carlingford’s financial plans with Miss Sanderson,
she was reminded of that one night six years ago. It wasn’t that it went badly, more that she’d felt too much, and the intensity of their connection had scared her. She’d been so young back then, naïve in her enjoyment of the world before the war changed everything. It might have been fine without the oddity of Rosalie disappearing—she’d promised to join her in the drawing room for the general discussions—but had simply gone home. When she asked someone about Rosalie, the answer had confirmed that Priya had made a terrible mistake. So she’d kept her distance and would continue to do that despite this project pushing them to work together.

  “Can I help you?” Mrs Patel asked. She’d been Miss Sanderson’s receptionist for as long as Priya had been visiting the bank, an older Indian woman who kept her wooden desk extremely neat with several piles of paper stacked beside her. Sanderson and Sons was a close to a meritocracy as was possible in a city where far too many people weren’t granted more than a basic education. Every time Priya interacted with Mrs Patel, she was reminded of how much she respected the way Miss Sanderson ran the bank. If only she’d managed her personal life the same way... No, now was not the time to relive old regrets, Priya had an important task to achieve today and one that would help many people thrive after the horrors of the Great War.

  “I’m here to see Sanderson about the Rowley Mile project.” It was an annoying name, one that Ashwin had given the project because of some silly joke with their friends James and Rafe who loved racehorses; they lived, breathed, and obsessed about racehorses on their farm in Newmarket. She breathed in and out slowly. Focus. Don’t get distracted by whatever aimless thought wandered through her brain. She was going to need all her focus to get through today’s meeting.

  Mrs Patel traced her hand down her giant diary, even though she probably already knew the days appointments by heart, and nodded. “Yes, you may go in now.”

 

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