“Wherever are we?” Maddie took Camille’s crooked arm as it was offered to her.
“Leicester Square,” Camille replied, keeping Maddie close. “I come here nearly every week. Isn’t it delightful? So vibrant. So much to look at.”
Maddie wasn’t sure whether she referred to the elaborate garden at the center of the square or to the women who congregated in it, but readily agreed in either case. Later, she learnt that the whole place was known to be a veritable hive of iniquity, and she ought to have guessed as much when the establishment Camille brought her to was filled with scantily-clad women who sat much too freely on the laps of men.
Fortunately, they didn’t linger near those rooms. Camille took her by the hand and led her up the back staircase, and the higher they rose on the crooked, uneven steps, the stronger the scent of perfume became. Not just one variety but several, all swirling together. The heady floral bouquet hinted at the presence of many women, and sure enough, when they emerged from the darkened passage, there was not a man in sight—much to Maddie’s very great relief.
These upper rooms were three in number and decked out lavishly: silk wallpaper, velvet sofas, and imported rugs. Colored netting hung from the ceiling like a great canopy, filtering the light from the wall sconces and casting the space in shades of purples and pinks.
With every step into this decadent paradise, Camille was greeted like an old friend, receiving hugs and cheek kisses aplenty, and it seemed to Maddie that all who came into contact with her fell under a sort of spell.
“These are your friends?” she questioned, her stomach twisting in a knot when one woman tendered Camille a kiss directly on the lips.
“Friends and acquaintances.” Camille paid for two glasses of champagne at the bar and directed Maddie to an unoccupied sofa at the edge of the room.
“Is this a party?” Maddie accepted one of the glasses, keenly anticipating the relaxing effect a little booze was likely to have on Camille’s temperament.
“Not exactly.” Camille draped her arm over the back of the sofa, nursing her own glass in her lap. “Though one might say that it’s a celebration of love.”
Her curiosity piqued by that, Maddie watched two women settle into one of the other sofas. At first glance, one could mistake their closeness for a familial bond. Their knees touched. Their hands were interlocked. Their eyes never left each other. Then they kissed. Their ravenous lips met with passion, dispelling all doubt about the true nature of their love, and heat rose in Maddie’s face. She could do nothing to hide it.
“You color up beautifully.” Camille brushed the back of her hand over one of Maddie’s reddened cheeks. “I hope you’re not too uncomfortable?”
Maddie shook her head and sipped her champagne. “I’m glad to be with you. This is where you disappear to on Sundays?”
“In search of company, yes.” Camille pressed an impulsive kiss on the side of her head. “I’ve never brought anyone here before, but I wanted you to see it.”
“Why?” Maddie leant back, a shiver running through her when she felt Camille’s arm close in around her shoulders.
“Because it’s important for you to know that, no matter what your path in life may be, there are outlets for your passions. Do you understand? You will never be alone in your desire.”
Maddie’s heart sank. Was that the purpose of this outing? To encourage her to expand the horizons of her interests? She peered up at Camille, hoping she was wrong. “You wish for me to turn my attentions elsewhere?”
“I wish for you to be happy,” Camille corrected her. “You seek experience in these pursuits—you are hungry for it—and to that end, you need not settle for me.” She gestured to the room. “Look around. There’s so much more.”
“Settle for you?” Maddie shook her head, rejecting that. “I want no other woman. There’s none in the world more beautiful than you in any case.”
“Is that so?” Camille’s eyebrow shot up. “And how much of the world have you seen?”
No answer.
“Darling, it’s sweet of you to be so kind, but let’s not pretend.” She hooked a finger under Maddie’s chin and turned her head. “I’m much too old for you. This is foolish.”
Maddie didn’t see the age in her. She was blind to it. There were certainly a few creases beside her eyes and lines where she smiled, but nothing that detracted from her beauty.
“It’s all very well for you to say such things, but I shan’t be dissuaded from you,” she stated resolutely. “My heart is already set in the matter.”
Those words took a few moments to sink in, then Camille recovered the ability to speak.
“Are you quite sure?” Her voice was whisper soft.
Maddie nodded. “I’ve read of it plenty. I know the feeling well.”
“In that case, you’re a very silly girl.” Camille ran her thumb over Maddie’s lips, her gaze fixed there. “We shall be the ruin of each other.”
Before Maddie could prepare for it, Camille downed her champagne and crushed their mouths together. Her smooth lips—coated with the carmine-tinted beeswax she used to enhance their natural color—were firm but gentle, and Maddie melted into her … but it didn’t last long. As though startled by her own temerity, Camille drew back, searching Maddie’s face for any sign that such an overture was unwelcome. There was none.
After polishing off the other glass of champagne, she re-engaged Maddie’s lips with renewed confidence. Half-reclining, her shoulders pressed to the cushions, she pulled Maddie to her chest, allowing the teen’s clumsy, overeager hands to wander freely about her body, from garter to breast.
From that moment on, time was lost to them. Afternoon drifted into evening. They drank a little, talked much, kissed often, and by the end of the night, Maddie was quite an expert in all forms of oral caress. When they finally left the bawdyhouse—as Camille reluctantly confessed it was—they were running late to catch the last train. Too late in fact.
“Well, there’s nothing else for it.” Camille stared down the empty platform and planted both hands on her hips. “We must spend the night in London.”
Maddie’s heart pounded. “Where?”
“I shall find us accommodations, but I have only a little money.”
Maddie heard that as a warning, but didn’t understand what it meant until she was standing in a hotel bedroom, eyeing the room’s only bed.
10
Maddie couldn’t move. While Camille sat on the sofa by the window, divesting herself of hat, jacket, and boots, she stood like a statue, gaping at the enormous four-poster bed that dominated the candlelit hotel room.
“I hadn’t enough coin for separate accommodations.” Camille addressed the stunned look in her eyes. “If it displeases you to sleep with me, I shall keep to the sofa.”
Maddie glanced at the sofa’s overstuffed velvet cushions, then back to the feather-stuffed mattress and the quilted counterpane. It was not fright that had her so dumbstruck, but that she couldn’t believe her luck. Still, she reined in her desperate excitement on the off chance that she was presuming too much about Camille’s intentions.
“I could not bear to think of you in discomfort when there’s a whole half of the bed unused.” She perched on the vanity chair and removed her boots, tackling the laces with such clumsy haste that she got them all knotted up. “Whatever shall we wear, though?”
“Our shemmies will do.” Camille began to shed the layers.
Not wanting to be behindhand with her, Maddie wrenched off her uncooperative boots and followed suit, facing her reflection in the cheval mirror beside the washstand.
She’d never spent much time scrutinizing her own form, but she did so then. Wearing nothing more than her undergarments, she compared her curves to Camille’s, still adjusting to the extra inches she’d only recently gained.
“There’s no need to be bashful.” Camille whisked off her under-bodice, baring that lavish satin corset in all its glory. “We each have the same parts.”
r /> “But your parts are so much nicer.” Maddie toyed with the waistband of her drawers, contemplating their removal.
“Nonsense.” Camille chuckled. “You’re truly beautiful. Look.” She swept in behind Maddie and laid her hands on the teen’s hips. “These full hips, this slender waist.” She slid her hands up to the narrowest part of Maddie’s waist. “And here.” She brought her hands under Maddie’s breasts and cupped them. “See how full and firm they are? You have nothing whatever to be ashamed of.” She dropped a kiss on Maddie’s bare shoulder. “You’re perfectly formed.”
She kept her hands employed on Maddie’s charms awhile, making the small ruby tips stiff and prominent, then turned her attentions southward. “Do you not wish to remove these?” She fingered the drawstring fastening at the back of Maddie’s drawers.
Maddie sank against Camille’s chest. “Ought I?” She lolled her head on Camille’s shoulder. “We shall be so exposed to one another all night.”
“You did not seem to mind being so exposed to me last week.” Camille spun her around and held her by the waist. “Has your diffidence returned?”
“Perhaps a little.” Maddie touched a finger to Camille’s corset and traced invisible patterns in the satin, not daring to unfasten the stiff garment. “Will you have me tonight?”
Camille groaned, palpably pained to reject the offer. “Let’s not get carried away with ourselves.” She pecked Maddie’s forehead, stepped away, and let down her waist-length hair. “I’m weakening to you, that is true, but these few little transgressions of ours must be enough.” She paused, then repeated the sentiment with more conviction. “They must.”
But they weren’t. Openly disappointed, Maddie gazed at Camille’s silky honey-colored mane and fought the urge to bury her face in it. Worsening her struggle for command over her basic impulses, she watched as Camille dropped her petticoat to the floor for the purpose of conducting her various nightly ablutions. Her diaphanous chemise exposed everything beneath, and Maddie gasped at the sight. She wore no drawers! Whatever would her mother think of a woman who crossed her legs at the knee and went about bare beneath her skirts?
“Oh, you’ve not got a stitch on you in the way of southern under things.” She wasn’t sure where to look.
“Does that concern you?” Camille retreated to the sofa and continued undressing. As she inched up her chemise to begin the business of rolling down her stockings, she revealed Maddie’s red satin hair ribbon fastened around her thigh.
She blushed then, which was such a rarity that Maddie made note of it. Had she forgotten it was there? Why was it still there? Had she not the funds to replace her broken garter? Was she so impecunious? Maddie doubted that, and the thought was thoroughly dispelled when Camille unfastened the ribbon, unveiling a brand new garter elastic beneath.
“I’m a sentimental creature.” Camille worked her stockings off. “I cannot help it.”
Every time she moved, her breasts threatened to spill from her corset, and Maddie made the most of the unprecedented view. Not knowing when she might have such unreserved access to Camille’s body again—if ever—she did her best to permanently imprint every glorious detail on her mind.
“They are not so firm as yours.” Camille caught her staring. “Age is acting upon me I’m afraid.” She unhooked the exquisite garment and released herself. “This is the body of a woman two decades your senior.”
True enough, her unfettered breasts did not hold themselves as high as Maddie’s—the difference was slight, but perceptible—but Maddie did not care. They were perfect.
“Here.” Camille took her hand. “Feel.” She laid Maddie’s hand upon one of her weighty breasts. “What do you think?” She squeezed the orb into Maddie’s palm.
Maddie whined. Perhaps they were not quite as youthful as they once were, but they were large and soft. Her proud, erect nipples demanded attention, and Maddie lowered her head to suck one into her mouth, wetting the fabric of Camille’s chemise with her tongue.
“Oh, my sweet darling.” Camille let her suckle for a minute before unlatching her. “Are you ready for bed?”
Truth be told, Maddie was anything but tired. She lingered by the bedside as Camille flung back the counterpane and slid onto the cool sheets, her thin cotton chemise bunching around her upper thighs, very nearly uncovering the triangular shadow of her pubic thatch.
“You wish to see it?” Camille volunteered her body for further exploration.
Without waiting for a response—not that Maddie was capable of one—she lay down and turned up the hem of her chemise, displaying the hallowed ground between her legs.
It was immaculate. Her blonde curls were trimmed short, scarcely concealing the pouty lips of her sex. Her pearl hid at the apex of her cleft, but as she raked her fingers through the small quantity of hair on her motte, she coaxed it out.
“Come to bed,” she cooed. “Let me look at you as well. No-one ever came to any harm for looking.”
Realizing she was still wearing an impractical amount of clothing, Maddie fumbled hastily with her knee-length drawers and kicked them off as soon as they fell to her ankles. She gave no thought to her stockings or her garters—but Camille did. As she clambered into bed and tugged up her shemmy, revealing the dark bloom between her thighs, Camille’s eyes were pinned to her right garter.
“Is that mine?” She fingered the ruffled black lace and satin bow. “You fixed it.”
Maddie covered it with her hand and opened her mouth to apologize, but never got a word out.
“I hoped you would.” Camille bent to kiss it. “I’m glad you did.” She trailed a fingertip beyond the garter, up Maddie’s thigh and over her mossy outcrop, in full admiration of her form. “You are surely God’s most divine creation.”
For several minutes, they lay in worship of one another. Their lips met for more kisses, Maddie helped herself to Camille’s chemise-covered breasts, and it seemed for a while that any reservations Camille had were cast to the wind. Then there was a halting.
“We ought to get some rest if we’re to make the first train tomorrow.” Camille disengaged herself from Maddie’s groping hand. “It’s gone midnight already, I’m sure.”
Dissatisfied with the prospect of simply rolling over and going to sleep, Maddie remained in Camille’s embrace, reluctant to move. “Is there nothing more we could do?”
Having read more than her fair share of bawdy sapphic literature, she knew there was plenty more they could do … if only Camille would allow it.
“My darling, we’ve already done far too much.” Camille pulled her chemise back into place. “Please try to understand my position.”
Maddie didn’t. She couldn’t. It was utterly unfathomable to her. She was of age, and Camille was unmarried. What other obstacle was there?
“Blow out the candle,” Camille prompted her. “I’m exhausted. It’s been an eventful day.”
Thoroughly huffed, Maddie flopped resignedly onto her back. “I shall if I must—if you must rob me of the sight of you as well as the touch—but I do not think I can sleep, and it’s entirely your fault.”
“Why?” Camille yawned. “Whatever’s the matter?”
“I’ve not yet given myself a relief,” Maddie grumbled. “My body’s grown quite accustomed to the pleasure as it is, and your kisses have made it ever so hot tonight.”
A silence crept in before Camille responded cautiously. “I shan’t object if you feel the need.”
Permission granted, Maddie wasted no time. She began the work immediately, only to pause in the midst of it when she heard a muted whimper from the other side of the bed and discovered Camille engaged in the same operation.
“Are you doing it as well?” She tugged back the covers for visual confirmation.
“Yes.” Camille mewled, tickling her sex. “Forgive me.”
No forgiveness was necessary.
“Let us do it together.” Maddie rolled closer. “Please do!”
Camille had litt
le choice in that; she had no path of retreat. Side by side, they indulged in their manipulations, their busy hands bumping against one another. It was torture.
Brave in that moment, Maddie’s hand abandoned its post and breached the narrow gap between their heaving bodies. Receiving no objection but a pitiful whine, her tentatively encroaching fingertips met first with the tight curls on Camille’s mound, then strove toward the furrow and dipped between her puffy labia, drawing moisture from the innermost well of her lust-drenched article up to her swollen, hardened pearl.
“Oh, my darling, yes!” Camille surrendered, clutched Maddie to her chest, and brought a reciprocal hand to her treasure. A minute later, they were quivering together, their voluptuous cries smothered with each other’s mouths.
11
Maddie woke in Camille’s arms and sought a kiss—which Camille gave freely. She had no idea of the time. The heavy velvet curtains shielded the room from the glare of the gaslights in the street at night, and any sign of daybreak come morning, but she was certain they’d slept in past dawn. Regardless, Camille seemed to be in no hurry to rise. She lay with her hand on Maddie’s bare rump, keeping their bodies held tight together, skin touching skin, their shemmies rucked up around their middles, and granted kisses upon request.
“You’re far too irresistible, my love.” She gave Maddie’s bum a squeeze and sighed heavily. “I have succumbed.”
“Is it so terribly bad?” Maddie couldn’t believe that it was. “We had the greatest pleasure together, didn’t we?”
“We most certainly did.” Camille rolled them over and planted herself between Maddie’s thighs, her tousled blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders. “But now I’m afraid I want so much more.”
Maddie had no idea what to expect. In fact, the first time Camille moved her hips, causing their pearls to rub together and a bolt of electricity to shoot through her core, she thought it accidental. Then it happened again. And again. The fourth time, it was accompanied by the faintest whimper from Camille’s lips, and then she knew: they were entwined in the most sacred embrace.
The Ruin of Us Page 4