Page 46 of The Headmistress

“Let me tell you what you taste like, darling.” Agile fingers slipped between Sam’s legs, making her gasp, but she kept her eyes open, watching Magdalene watch her.

“I was looking for a word earlier, to describe to you the flavor that is uniquely you. I couldn’t come up with anything that was even remotely adequate, because you are delectable, and the taste is just so complex. It’s very subtle, and it starts just a little tangy with this lingering sweet undertone. The sweetness stays with you.” The fingers played with her at a leisurely pace and then descended to her opening, thrusting once, twice, with eerie precision, and when the thumb entered into play, making slow purposeful circles around that clit, Sam was no longer able to keep her eyes open. The last thing she’d remembered before closing them and surrendering to pleasure, had been Magdalene’s smug, satisfied smile.

It was the same kind of expression she was trying to hide by sipping her coffee from the gigantic mug right now, but Sam knew it was there. In fact, she also knew that she had applied herself quite diligently to wiping away that same look on Magdalene’s face at the bed-and-breakfast, once she’d recovered from another post-orgasmic stupor that night.

She had spread Magdalene wide and brought her to the edge over and over again, refusing her satisfaction until she’d begged, until all her moans were ending in little whimpers, until Sam knew she couldn’t take anymore, and then, when she finally relented and sucked on her clit hard, in seconds her chin and mouth were showered with moisture and Magdalene’s smile was no longer smug. Eyes closed, chest heaving, red splotches covering her breasts and marring her perfect skin where Sam had lingered on her way down, Magdalene was a picture of total blissed-out satisfaction.

Initially, Sam wanted to regret marking that beautiful, flawless body, but something stirred in her at seeing what she’d done, at what the marks meant. She kissed each and every one of them as Magdalene recovered. A purpling on her left breast, a larger one on her hip bone, a bite on her inner thigh. She allowed her tongue to come out against the one on the hip, which only caused Magdalene to give out a strangled moan and for weak hands to try to push Sam’s head away with a stuttering kind of laughter.

“You’re insatiable, you lunatic. I give, I give. Truce. I believe you’re the only one who will make me think twice before daring you to do something. You might’ve broken me just now.”

Her voice held no regrets though, and Sam gathered her in her arms, settling Magdalene’s head on her shoulder, running still-wet fingers through tangled locks.

“I’m not much for a dare, but I feel like I want to rise to any occasion where you’re concerned.”

“Well, we can certainly look into things you couldriseto in order to get me allconcerned.”

Sam just stared at her, and then both of them broke into fits of laughter.

“Oh Goddess, even I admit those were terrible puns about dildos.” Magdalene laughed freely, happily, and that sound was so foreign and so out of place for this particular woman, that Sam wanted to lock it away in her mind, to relive this very moment over and over again. She had stopped laughing and just watched the joy spread on her lover’s face, committing it to memory. It had been glorious.

“I’d be game, though I confess I… ah, I’ve never done that…”

“Sam, you heartbreakingly beautiful darling. How can you make me squirt for the very first time in my life by being relentless and hot and commanding, and then blush and stutter at the very thought of fucking me with a strap-on?”

“Born this way?” Sam had ducked her head and nuzzled Magdalene’s cheek.

“Thank Goddess for that, Sam. Thank Goddess indeed,” Magdalene had murmured drowsily.

Back at the table in the Mess Hall, as Sam finally raised her head from her coughing fit, she ran straight into Magdalene’s no longer smug gaze. In fact, Sam thought that, if Magdalene wasn’t careful, Sam would throw all caution to the wind and put to good use the strap-on she’d ordered right after their return and received from the online shop just yesterday, and damn the torpedoes, because that look was scorching, telling Sam that Magdalene was reliving the very same moments, with similar consequences for her underwear. Good thing Sam had also ordered several new pairs of those.

George’s clearing of her throat and launching into the agenda of the day distracted both her and Magdalene from a rather sticky situation, pun intended again, and Sam exhaled carefully, focusing on whatever the secretary was trying to impress upon her colleagues—despite it being a massive struggle. Seeing that Magdalene was also having difficulty marshaling her considerable powers of concentration was very satisfactory. This staying apart and waiting business was going to be torturous, but at least Sam wasn’t in it alone.

17

Of Cunning, Guile & Viridescent Cliff

When the day finally arrived, Sam thought that for someone who literally had been chomping at the bit, wringing her hands, and trying not to wait while doing nothing but bitch and moan about how much she’d been doing precisely that—waiting for it—she was entirely too unprepared for the true experience that lay ahead.

The first thing that caught her off guard was the sheer amount of people who descended on the island. The first day of school was always a bit of mayhem, with parents accompanying their children and the girls bubbling with excitement. Everything was noise and chaos and just one big pain in her ass, which was something Sam, even under the best of circumstances, hated with all her being. But now? Now that everything was at stake and Magdalene had truly poked pretty much all the hornets’ nests within the vicinity of the school, it was all magnified tenfold.

The girls screamed and giggled; the parents talked loudly about how much money they were pumping into the school and how thoroughly worrisome some of the rumors they had heard coming out of the Academy about the potential upcoming reforms were. The faculty were huddling close together, trying as they might to not get pulled aside either by a parent or a student or even worse, a trustee.

Yes, the trustees were all there too, unusual as that was, along with some other people in business suits, and even the Mayor of the town for some reason. He had never attended Opening Day before, and to Sam’s knowledge, the townsfolk had never really been invited to any of the school’s proceedings. So that was quite a big deal.

Which in and of itself was ridiculous. For being stranded on such a small piece of rock, surrounded by the inauspicious waters of the Atlantic, the school certainly acted like it was somehow better than its smaller, less opulent neighbor. The town’s cottages may have been rustic, nestled on the other side of the island on its sandy beaches, but the handful of people who lived there, despite mostly pursuing such mundane—in the school dwellers’ minds—livelihoods as fishing, had always been nothing but charming and hospitable.

Sam thought maybe their presence was a good idea, despite the fact that she could see most of the older guard, including the massive contingent of the Old Dragonettes in attendance, throwing highly outraged and superior gazes in the direction of the area where some of the townsfolk had congregated.

And that was another thing. If Sam had to estimate, there were at least two hundred Old Dragonettes present—from older, distinguished, white-haired ladies, to some younger ones whom Sam could remember teaching just a couple of years ago. Turning sharply to look where Orla stood, haughtily surveying everything around her, Sam couldn’t help but roll her eyes. So the former headmistress had brought reinforcements. Sam shook her head for good measure, but an arm on her side stopped her before she moved past temptation and actually went and got into an argument.

“I told you before, little one. Having your loyalties torn like this is very hard.” But before Sam could say something snarky in response, because Joanne stating the obvious only managed to aggravate her further especially with Sam’s mood already jagged and edgy and anxious, her mentor chuckled and gave her a side-armed hug.

“You will withstand anything, Sammy. I believe in you.”

“Even if it means going against you and Orla?” Sam watched as emotions rippled across the handsome, open face of her mentor, who was more like a mother to her than anyone else in her life.

“I will always love you, Sam Threadneedle. No matter what—or whom—you choose, there isn’t a choice that would drive me away from you. I taught you to walk and treated your bottom rash, honey. Sometimes I think you are the child I was actually meant to have. So whatever happens, rest assured, I may not be vocal or loud, and I certainly don’t have the backup of two hundred people summoned from all over America,” Joanne whispered slyly and looked at the crowd standing like sentinels behind Orla, “but I’m here and I have faith in you, baby.”