Chapter 34
Millicent assisted me into gown after gown. I was no stranger to being dressed by maids; I had spent my life subjected to the hands of others adjusting corsets, securing buttons, and ensuring that not a single thread was out of place. And yet, under Millicent's careful touch, I found myself, for the first time, inexplicably flustered.
My corset, drawers and stockings granted some modesty, yet the way her crimson eyes swept over me sent a warmth creeping up my neck. I pressed my legs together, lest the gaping slit of my drawers expose my womanhood to her.
"You have a remarkable figure, Lady Florence."
I scoffed, "Is that so?" I made a pitiful attempt to cover the bare strip of thigh between my drawers and stockings with my hands. Why were drawers so short?! Three, perhaps four inches of garter strap were on full display like some whorehouse advertisement!
Millicent did not bother answering, simply watching with that insufferable glint in her eye as if thoroughly entertained by my discomfort.
Once I was fitted into an elegant white summer gown that flattered me far too well, she clapped her hands lightly. "I shall have the same gown for myself," she announced. "Now, if you would excuse me, Lady Florence, will you wait outside while I change?"
I crossed my arms and reclined against the plush sofa. "And why should I? You watched me change repeatedly. Surely, it is only fair that I return the favor?"
"Because, Lady Florence," she sighed, "I am... embarrassed."
My eyes narrowed. "Embarrassed? And I suppose I was not?"
She chuckled, lips curving into that infuriating smile. "We are both women, are we not? Surely, there is no need for such modesty on your part."
"Precisely my point, Your Grace," I countered dryly. "Do enlighten me, why should I be the only one subjected to such scrutiny?"
"Very well," she conceded, eyes alight with mischief. "You may remain, but only on one condition. If you wish to watch, you must assist. You shall undress me and then dress me in the gown."
I met her gaze head-on, unwilling to surrender so easily. "Fine."
Her smile deepened as she took a seat beside me. The space between us vanished far too quickly for my liking. Then she leaned in, lips mere inches from my ear.
"Here I am, Lady Florence," she murmured, breath warm against my skin.
My entire being stiffened. My mind that was so sure of its resolve only moments ago suddenly scrambled for solid ground. Blast this woman. How was it that she could so effortlessly reduce me to this?
Still, I would not be bested. With every ounce of poise I could summon, I reached behind her, fingers fumbling only slightly as I worked to undo the knots of her gown.
Without the slightest warning, the wretched woman's tongue grazed the shell of my ear. A touch so light yet so utterly treacherous. I jolted as though struck. My fingers froze mid-task. A horrifying heat crept up my neck.
"What in heaven's name are you doing?!" I demanded.
"Merely ensuring you remain focused, Lady Florence," she replied, infuriatingly smooth.
My blood boiled.
This woman. This insufferable, vexing duchess. Did she truly think she could rattle me so easily? That I would crumble at the mere brush of her tongue?
No. Not today.
Before I could fully process my actions, my hands moved of their own accord, cupping her face with force. I pulled her forward and without hesitation, I pressed my lips to hers. A kiss so bold, so unexpected, it stole whatever smug remark had been perched on her lips. My eyes burned with the fire of sheer defiance as I deepened the kiss, my every movement intoxicating. Every caress of my lips against hers was a silent challenge, daring her to admit defeat.
Her hands slid to my waist, drawing me closer with an audacity that should have had me shoving her away. Instead, I found myself ensnared. She returned the kiss with an intensity that sent a shiver coursing through me. Before I could reassert my upper hand, I felt the unmistakable flick of her tongue against mine.
My initial plan began to unravel with humiliating speed. I had intended to rattle her, to leave her breathless, to force her into retreat. Yet here I was, caught in her hands.
Somewhere in my mind, outrage simmered, indignant that she dared meet me at my own game, no, worse, that she was winning. But that anger mingled with something dangerously exhilarating, something that made my fingers tighten against the fabric of her gown rather than push her away.
The world beyond the fitting room dissolved into nothingness, drowned out by the sound of our ragged breaths and the fevered rhythm of our lips moving in tandem. Her hands moved with shameless intent. She yanked down my bodice, loosened the lace of my corset with wicked ease, then slipped her hand in and grabbed my left breast, eliciting a gasp that I most certainly had not granted her permission to extract. A peculiar sensation shot through me, one I was ill-prepared for.
Well. If she wished to play such a game, then I would not suffer defeat so easily.
With defiance, I tore down her bodice and unpicked the corset lace just enough. My hand slid in without pause. My palm found its place against her left breast, and I applied the same pressure she had so shamelessly employed against me. Let her see how it felt.
Her response was immediate. She moaned louder than me. Ah. Victory. Sweet, sweet-
Before I could so much as savor my minor triumph, her lips reclaimed mine with renewed fervor, her touch intensifying in tandem. The pressure against my breast increased, sending a jolt of something wholly unwelcome through my body.
This was spiraling entirely out of my control.
After a moment, she withdrew slightly, her lips mere inches from mine as though teasing the very air between us. That insufferable smile graced her lips.
"Are you quite certain you wish to continue, Lady Florence?" she murmured.
Her free hand curled around my free one, guiding me slowly. Then my fingers brushed against something firm. My body reacted before my mind caught up and my fingers instinctively closing around it. A soft moan came from her. So quiet, yet so terribly deafening.
Realization struck. I felt my soul attempt to evacuate my body entirely. I stared at her, who had the audacity to look at me with a smile so full of mischief that I was certain she was reveling in my impending demise. She moved fast, dragged my dress up, and forced my legs apart. Her body pressed in close, flush between my thighs. I felt her hardened length against my sex, the slit in my drawers doing nothing to stop it. Only her thin gown kept us from ruin.
With a low, sultry voice, she whispered, "Shall we take this to its conclusion, Lady Florence?" Her crimson eyes sparkled with both teasing and intent.
It was not the existence of such an appendage that sent a jolt of horror through me, no, it was the sheer size of the thing. Vast. Formidable. An absolute offense to nature itself.
With a strangled yelp, I shoved her away. My hands trembled as I scrambled, no, launched myself to the farthest corner of the sofa.
That absolute menace remained infuriatingly composed. Seated with the languid ease of a cat basking in the sun, she merely smoothed the fabric of her dress, making no effort, none at all, to conceal the very thing that had sent me into a state of existential crisis. It still pressed against the fabric, prominent and undeniable, as if mocking me for ever believing in the logical order of the world.
"Well, it appears you have uncovered my little secret."
I gawked at her, my mind a battlefield. My gaze, against my better judgment, flickered downward before immediately darting away, my cheeks burning hot. "Secret?" I managed to splutter. "That-that is no secret! That is… that is positively monstrous!"
She chuckled, a maddeningly rich and unbothered sound that sent a fresh wave of indignation coursing through me. "Monstrous, you say? How very dramatic of you, Lady Florence. Shall I take that as a compliment?"
I pressed myself so far into the corner of the sofa that I feared I might merge with it entirely. My gaze betrayed me once more, flickering downward - why do I keep looking?! - only to be met with a sight that sent my heart lurching into my throat. It twitched. It moved. And worse, dear heavens, worse, there was a most damning damp spot forming at the apex of the infernal tent.
"You, you are utterly indecent!"
"Am I? You do react so beautifully, Lady Florence. Truly, a delight."
I opened my mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again. "So you are a grower then. That would explain how no one notices, even when you insist upon wearing those scandalously thin dresses."
And what did I receive in response to this unfiltered observation? A wink. Yes, a wink. That ever-infuriating, insufferable smirk still curled upon her lips.
Curse my memory for its unforgiving accuracy.