Page 35 of Claiming the Tower
Bess flushed charmingly. “I cannot entirely tell how much is the house or how much is the people in the house. Your father is a pleasure to be with. You are—” She leaned forward, then pulled back. “I admit, I wonder what it’s like in the autumn, how the light changes. Or the gardens and orchards.”
“We are working our way toward a chance at that.” Hereswith considered. “I don’t know what the Challenge means, in all honesty. When it comes to my personal arrangements. I don’t know— I don’t entirely know what there is to want.” She coughed. “Well. The books you bought for me give me some ideas, for when we get that far.”
“I haven’t really talked much about what, my experience.” Bess glanced up, then shifted on the bed to slide in the little necessary hop and bump closer. “School. While I was learning a bit from my aunts. Twice since then, relationships that really couldn’t last.”
“But you wanted one.” Hereswith was not entirely sure how to ask what she wanted to ask. “That is the thing with me. I like partnership, doing things with someone. But I’ve never felt the pull toward something personal.”
“Marcus. Colleagues, before Marcus?” Bess asked it carefully and Hereswith nodded. “Well. Let’s see. The personal is warmer. I like that warmth. I don’t. I’m not the sort of person who needs a lover right there all the time. I like my own independence. Besides, that’s not a luxury that’s been on offer. But I like, very much, knowing that you and I will have some time to talk, during the day. That we’ll have things to talk about, because we weren’t with each other the entire time. But—” She cut off.
“But?” Hereswith asked, gently. The trick of this sort of conversation was to listen and draw the other person out.
“But.” Bess looked up, then down, flushing again. “I do like the physical contact. Have you ever been kissed properly?”
“Not by someone other than my family, and that’s not the same,” Hereswith said. Then she felt herself taking in everything, all the options and all the consequences, the choices and risks. “Would you like to? Now?”
“Only if you would.” Bess’s answer was immediate.
Hereswith swallowed, then said as carefully and precisely as all of her training could manage. “I think I would. How?”
Bess immediately scooted closer, still facing her. “You hold still for a moment. I’m not at all sure how you’d explain a bruise. Then— what you enjoy.” Bess wasn’t being abrupt, exactly. But Hereswith had the feeling it was like a horse, being let out into the pasture, suddenly free of harness and restraint, frolicking. There was a shift of her body, a hand on Hereswith’s shoulder, then lips against hers. They were smooth, tasting slightly of honey— the same balm Hereswith used on hers, likely— and there was something entirely personal there. A warmth that she hadn’t expected, even though she’d read about it.
Hereswith felt herself inhale, then give herself over to what Bess was showing her. A flexibility she hadn’t entirely known about herself, that she didn’t let herself feel often, not in company. Bess’s hand slipped down her shoulder, then back up, thumb stroking against a stretch of bare skin. Then Bess’s tongue was pressing against her lips.
Hereswith’s first instinct was confusion, but then she trusted enough to open her mouth, and found that was entirely a novel sensation. The pressure of it, the intensity of the pressure, was as deliberate as singing a note. Oh, she liked that very much indeed. She fumbled with her left hand, before hesitantly letting it come to rest against Bess’s hip. That seemed a step more into intimacy, but then she felt Bess arch into it, shifting like a cat.
When Bess finally pulled back, Hereswith managed to focus and see those bright eyes shining. “Now you have.”
“Mmmm.” Hereswith let her head shift back against the headboard, considering. “You’re right, of course. It’s warmer. Different. I liked—”She could feel herself blushing now. “I liked your tongue. Something about the pressure of it.”
“Well. Eventually, when it’s sensible, there are options for other things inside you. Fingers. Toys. My tongue in other places. People like different things.” Bess was pink now, but taking it as a little more of a challenge. Or perhaps presenting Hereswith with one to share. “But that’s for later. A definite escalation.”
“We should only have so much escalation in one evening.” Hereswith agreed. “Will you—” She considered what made sense to ask. “Will you lie down with me and talk? I like you there. Here. Even if I’m not at all sure some of what I might want.”
“Oh, always. Or at least, I have not yet found a time I’d say no to that. If I felt ill, maybe. I’d not want to make you ill yourself.” Bess shifted on the bed. “How would you like?”
It took a minute, a bit of awkward movement and stop and start. But then they were both on the bed, Bess above the covers, her feet tucked under the light blanket folded over the foot of the bed. Hereswith was under the sheets, but Bess’s head was on her shoulder, and it was a comfortable weight. They settled into talking about nothing in particular, with Bess’s hand eventually shifting to rest against her stomach. It should have tickled or felt too much, and it didn’t. It was warm and quiet and steady. Hereswith liked that a great deal.
Chapter 24
The next morning
Sometime, hours later, when there was just a hint of the light changing in the windows, Bess half-rolled over. She was still on top of the covers, but Hereswith had had one arm around her. An arm that had just moved, a tentative sort of nudge with two fingers. “It’s morning.”
Bess was entirely too much asleep to realise what the comment meant for a moment, then she grimaced. “My own bed.”
“Best.” Hereswith wasn’t much better. “Morning. Later.”
The kissing had been far better than Bess had expected, given she hadn’t expected to get so far as a kiss for weeks or months. Curling up comfortably and being close had been even better. Hereswith when sleepy and relaxed and vulnerable was perhaps the best yet. Now, Bess pushed up on one elbow, kissed her forehead, and murmured, “Go back to sleep.”
She got herself out of bed without tangling her feet in the blankets or tripping or making any undue amount of noise. Though at least there wouldn’t be anyone directly below them, from what she knew of the house. She stumbled once on the handful of stairs between Hereswith’s room and her own, but made it into bed without trouble. Better yet, she managed it without waking up too much.
Bess woke when it was properly morning, some hours later, rolling over and getting her bearings. Glancing at the clock, it was just before eight, when Hereswith should be up, but not yet on her way out the door. Bess fumbled for a wrap and slippers, made use of the water closet, and then went and knocked on Hereswith’s bedroom door, quietly.
“Come in?” Of course, from that door, it would only be Bess. The maids would come in through the study, almost certainly.
“Morning.” Bess closed the door behind her to find Hereswith seated at the dressing table, staring at her jewellery case. “Can’t decide what you want to wear?”
“No. Maybe it would help if I decided on a dress first.” Hereswith frowned. “Did you sleep all right?” A second later, she added, “We’re quite private. I told Mary I’d have breakfast downstairs in twenty minutes.”
