by Lily Hammond
Eliza gathered up the dress in her lap, tucking the needle safely in the hem to pick up again later, and stood up, drifted across the sitting room to the door. She stepped into the hallway by the front door and closed the door to the sitting room behind her.
Clemency’s blonde hair glowed in the dim light, and Eliza looked at it, the clear gold of it, and the fine shape of Clemency’s head, then she looked at Clemency’s eyes, dark now in the gloom, and beneath them, her thin, perfect lips. Eliza set the dress she’d been mending down on a small table and walked over to where Clemency stood. She looked up at her, searching her face, her eyes, looking at her lips again. She stepped closer, pressed herself against Clemency, the way she’d seen Ruth and Maxine so close, and she lifted her chin and touched her lips to Clemency’s.
Shock whitened Clemency’s mind, and she stood still, not moving for a long moment before lifting her hands to Eliza’s shoulders, not knowing if she was going to push the girl away or draw her closer. She could barely think at all. Inside her head, between her ears, she could hear the sudden rush of her own blood, the beat of her heart and she closed her eyes, and her fingers dug into Eliza’s shoulders for a moment, before she pushed the girl back.
Eliza’s eyes were wide, the pupils dilated so that they looked black as they stared at Clemency. They blinked, and Eliza frowned.
Clemency swallowed, shook her head. ‘Not here,’ she said, and her voice was low, rough, distraught. She’d meant to say no.
But Eliza brightened at the words. Her lips, full, the colour of coral, widened into a smile, and she bounced up and down in her understanding. Then whirled around, went over to pick up the dress, then with a quick, laughing look at Clemency, she ran lightly up the stairs.
Clemency stared up the stairs after Eliza, her heart still astonished, still beating like a bell inside her ribs. She smoothed her palms down the hips of her skirt, then lifted them to her face, feeling the heat there on her cheeks.
What had just happened? she asked herself.
Eliza had just kissed her, she answered herself.
There in the dimness of the hallway, with the low sound of new rain against the window, Eliza had walked over and pressed her warm body against hers, and then there was a kiss and Clemency shook where she stood, her legs unsteady under her.
A clatter, and Eliza came down the stairs. Now, she held a coat, and as she stepped down to where Clemency stood gazing up at her, fine hair a pale halo around her head, backlit from the window by the front door, she could smell the scent of salt and ocean from the coat, from when she’d worn it on the boat as she watched the endless waves, the endless to and fro of the waves.
She stopped in front of Clemency and felt the heat radiating from Clemency’s body. She touched a hand to Clemency’s collarbone, pressed a single fingertip to the bare skin there. Clemency had a smattering of freckles across her chest, and Eliza stared at them in the dimness and wondered suddenly how Clemency’s skin would taste if she were to put her lips to it.
She tipped her head to the side. Clemency’s lips had tasted of what? – of oranges and lemons say the bells of Saint Clements. Eliza smiled. So that was why Clemency’s name reminded her of oranges. The old nursery rhyme rang in her head until the words turned to nonsense because she had lifted her gaze to look at Clemency’s face.
Clemency stared down at Eliza, frozen in place, the spot where Eliza’s finger touched burning, radiating. She could hear her breath over the hum of the rain, harsh against it. She was almost panting, like a great cat. And Eliza had a feline look too, in the semi-darkness, her hair soft on her shoulders, her skin pale and downy, her eyes round and dark and intense.
Licking her lips, Clemency forced herself to move, to speak, to return the room, the atmosphere, to something like normal.
Her voice was a harsh croaking. ‘Come,’ she said. And she took the girl’s hand, leading her to the front door, opening it, moving as though through water, her limbs heavy, drifting. She pulled the front door open with an effort and led Eliza out into the newly wet, waterlogged afternoon.
Eliza laughed soundlessly as they dashed to the motor car, and she slid in slippery as an eel from the rain. She looked across at Clemency, who sat there, the ignition key limp in her hand as her green eyes simply looked back at Eliza.
Eliza touched Clemency’s lips with her fingers. They were wet from the rain and she took her hand away, replaced it with her mouth, leaning over the seat.
At first, it was just her lips pressing gently against Clemency’s, but then, with a sound from deep in her throat that made Eliza almost faint with sensation, Clemency was kissing her, their lips parting, melding together, tasting, questing, questioning, answering, and Eliza clung to her, fingers finding the collar of Clemency’s jacket and winding the fine fabric around them, holding tight as she strained to shimmy closer.
Clemency gasped as they parted, and she took a breath, found Eliza’s hands and untangled them from her clothing.
‘Enough,’ she said. ‘Or you will have us making a complete spectacle of ourselves right here in the driveway for anyone to see.’
Eliza sat back, dazed, her body heavy, chest heaving. Then she smiled, and looked playfully at Clemency, tilting her head to the side, a coquette.
Clemency caught the look and contemplated Eliza as she put the key in the ignition and started the motor car.
‘I didn’t know,’ she said. ‘I never picked it up.’
Eliza raised her eyebrows, then frowned.
‘That you felt this way,’ Clemency said.
Eliza relaxed and smiled, spreading her hands wide. She wanted to tell Clemency that it had been a discovery, a revelation. That she had not known either, had had no language for her feelings and therefore had not known.
But now she did, and she nodded, then nodded again. She wanted to tell Clemency about walking in on Ruth and Maxine, about Ruth telling her about lesbians, and loving a woman, and lying with one as if with a husband, but she had no voice for any of it so she just smiled and thought about kissing Clemency again instead.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Eliza looked down at the clean but worn underclothes next to her skin and was embarrassed. In pure feminine vanity, she wanted Clemency to see her in fine things, beautiful, perfect. She swallowed and looked up at Clemency, and forgot the worry when she saw Clemency’s eyes, shadowed with desire, looking at her as though hungry for the very sight of her. She lowered her lashes and breathed in the moment, savouring it, knowing that everything in her world was about to change, and that afterward she would relive this moment and those to come over and over in her mind.
Clemency stood looking at her, as wordless as Eliza herself. She had none; they had all left her and she found that she did not need them, that the language she wanted to speak right now was desire and delight and touch.
Eliza’s underclothes were darned and mended, and Clemency thought fleetingly in pictures of buying her new things, satin and silk fripperies to dress in, and she scolded herself, letting the image cloud over to be replaced by the sight of creamy skin and curves that made her ache, that made her body quiver.
Eliza had taken her by the hand and led her up the stairs of Clemency’s own house, to Clemency’s own bedroom, and stood there, sliding her dress off. Clemency had let her do it all and now, not able to stop herself – not wanting any longer to stop herself – she bent to the task of undressing Eliza, taking her time, listening to the sound of the rain against her bedroom window, to the sound of Eliza’s quickening breaths, to the tightening of her own pulse, her own breathing.
She went to her knees to unhook the heavy winter stockings from Eliza’s girdle, sliding them down over legs that were too thin, but shapely. She looked up into Eliza’s face as she did so, and saw that Eliza gazed down at her, lips slightly parted, eyes focused on her as Clemency stroked her hands down over thighs, over calves, touching ankles, drawing one stocking off at a time, Eliza stepping out of them with graceful movemen
ts.
She slid her hands back up Eliza’s legs, over the roundness of her bottom, unhooking and removing the girdle, watching Eliza’s face the whole time, seeing how she nipped her bottom lip between her teeth and blinked as Clemency touched her.
Clemency stilled her hands and tilted her head in a question, kneeling now on the floor in front of Eliza. More? She asked wordlessly.
Eliza nodded, helpless not to, her whole body on fire in a way she’d never known before, never knew was possible. She breathed in, closed her eyes for a moment as Clemency tucked her fingers into the waist of her bloomers and drew them slowly down.
The cool air was a shock on her skin, the sensation of Clemency’s lips against her belly even more so. She opened her eyes on a gasp, dazed, needy. She wanted things she didn’t even know the names of. She wanted Clemency to show her what to do, show her how they would lie together. She stepped out of her underwear, eyes locked on Clemency’s and as she did so, elation swept through her again so that she grinned, a smile wide with glee, with anticipation, with pleasure.
Clemency smiled back at her, letting her hands wander over Eliza’s bottom, her thighs. She touched the wisp of red curls and felt the shock of her touch rock through Eliza’s body. She looked at Eliza’s face, saw the wide eyes, the pink tongue licking coral lips. She let her fingers wander again, trailing down the curls and into the tuck of folds between her legs.
Eliza stiffened at the touch of Clemency’s fingers dipping into her most secret parts, then she took a breath and relaxed, melting at the touch, closing her eyes at the intensity of sensation. She felt Clemency press her cheek to her belly and her fingers to a part of her that made Eliza open her mouth in a soundless cry.
Clemency kissed her belly then, and the fingers stroked and patted at her down there between her legs, and there were great bursts of light inside her, all the colours of the rainbow swirling through her. She gasped again, and shifted her body, opening her legs to Clemency’s touch, feeling herself wet and dripping, plump and swollen, and nothing but sensation, pleasure. Her nipples tightened against the thin cotton of her brasserie and she brushed her palms against them, the touch thrilling through her so that she cupped her heavy breasts for a moment, then reached for the hooks to take the last item of her clothing off. She dropped it to the floor and shivered, not with cold, but with joy. She slipped the gold ring from around her neck and put it with her clothes.
Clemency, watching her, smiled, and drew her fingers slowly from between Eliza’s legs, dragging them across the swollen centre of her, feeling Eliza’s gasping movement as she did so, then she stood, and looked at Eliza there in her bedroom, the oyster-grey light from the window glowing upon her, hair loose and thick around her shoulders and over her breasts, their areolas large and rose-coloured, the nipples tight, erect.
Right this moment Eliza was the most beautiful creature Clemency had ever seen and she gasped at the sight of her, and desire welled higher inside her, tightening her own breasts, making her damp and swollen between her legs. She wanted this woman in front of her with a fierceness that only made her the more gentle when she led Eliza to the bed, turning back the sheets so that Eliza could slide between them where she lay with her wide eyes turned on Clemency, hair spread across the pillow gleaming like red silk in the low light as Clemency worked her own buttons and hooks and let her clothes fall to the floor to join the pile of Eliza’s.
They came together under the cool sheets, their skin warm and flushed, hands reaching for each other. Clemency pushed Eliza’s hair tenderly back from her face and looked into the deep blue of her eyes, before smiling at what she found there and leaning in to kiss the ripe lips waiting for her.
Eliza kissed her back, joyous, dizzy, ecstatic, her thoughts more like light waves, all nerve endings alive and humming. Clemency tasted wonderful, and the way she kissed Eliza, long, and deep enough to make Eliza lose herself like she was in the deepest ocean, swimming like a mermaid.
Clemency rolled on top of Eliza, grinning when Eliza hooked her legs around her waist, and dipped her head to nip a kiss at those wonderful lips. She could feel the heat from Eliza, her dampness pressing against Clemency.
She rocked her, where they lay together, tucking a hand down to tilt Eliza’s hips closer towards her, and watched Eliza’s eyes widen at the same time her legs did, her lips parting as Clemency moved against her, rubbing against her with a gentle, insistent rhythm that had Eliza clutching at her, mewling soundlessly against her neck.
Then Clemency released her and pushing the blankets back, she knelt between Eliza’s legs, gazing down at her, taking in the warmly blushed skin, the small frame, gentle curves, large breasts with their rosy nipples, and she smiled, trailing her gaze up and down, as Eliza watched her from half-closed eyes.
Clemency licked her lips, swallowed, letting herself enjoy looking at the lovely woman in her bed, feeling Eliza’s own arousal increasing from being so plainly seen.
Eliza’s legs were spread, and her sex was hot, wet, beautiful. Clemency smiled as she looked, then almost casually, she touched a finger to Eliza’s most sensitive spot, drawing it lightly across the clitoris, watching Eliza shudder and strain towards her hand.
She bent down, throwing the blankets from the bed altogether, enjoying how the cool air rippled across her skin as she lowered her mouth to Eliza and lapped at her, tasting her slowly, drawing out the sensation for both of them, teasing Eliza with her tongue, enjoying her sweetness, closing her eyes until everything was touch, and scent, and delight.
Eliza lay breathless, the pleasure coursing up and through her, dazzling her, then calling to her, drawing her into its rising crest, and with Clemency’s tongue on her hot flesh, bringing her to a precipice and tumbling her over with a shock that had Eliza gasping, panting, reaching for Clemency and then finding her, holding her tight against her as the waves of her orgasm washed over her in a tidal wave.
She came to, beached upon Clemency’s shoulder, all of her shaking, her mind reeling over what had just happened to her body. Gingerly, she lifted her head and looked into Clemency’s green eyes and blinked her amazement at them.
Clemency’s lips curved in a smile, and she bent her head to kiss Eliza’s mouth, and Eliza accepted the kiss with a dazed greediness, her hand on Clemency’s back, lifting up and down in a pat of agreement, delight.
Suddenly, Eliza flung herself back on the bed and lifted her eyes to the ceiling, feeling a great joy welling inside her, bubbling to the surface, and she opened her mouth wide in silent laughter, her breasts jiggling, her legs still caught under Clemency, the air cool against her wetness. She felt it and reached her hand down to dip her own fingers in her folds, tracing the outlines of her parts, where just a few minutes ago Clemency had licked at her with her tongue. She lifted her fingers, coated now in her own juices, and raised an eyebrow at Clemency, who smiled and nodded, bending her head to capture a generous nipple, pulling it into her mouth and sucking for a moment before letting it slither free.
Tentatively, Eliza took her wet fingers and touched them to Clemency’s breast, tracing the shape of it, running a fingertip across the taut nipple. She watched Clemency close her eyes and tip her head back, lips parting. She did it again, then shifted onto her side, and ducked her head to Clemency’s breast, sucking at her. A deep satisfaction spread through her and she knew this feeling was what it meant to lie with a lover, this welling sensation that began deep behind her ribs in her heart and radiated down to vibrate between her legs, until she felt as though she would burst with it. Was this love? she wondered. This delirious pleasure?
She lifted her head and looked at Clemency, whose own head was on the pillow, eyes still closed, lips still parted, high spots of colour on her cheeks.
Or maybe, Eliza thought, looking at her, that this sensation was love. This fullness inside her chest where her heart was.
She looked down at Clemency’s lean figure and touched the blonde thatch of hair between her legs. Clemency moa
ned a little at her touch and lifted her leg, spreading her thighs apart, and Eliza looked and saw the beautiful folds of flesh and put her hand on them, dipping her fingers between them and discovering that Clemency was also wet down there. Biting her lip, she moved her fingers experimentally, touching Clemency the way she thought she’d been touched, gratified when Clemency shifted slightly and moaned again, winding an arm around Eliza’s waist and groping for her breast with the other hand, pinching at Eliza’s nipple. Eliza moved so that her breast brushed against Clemency’s mouth, who took the nipple between her teeth, then into her mouth. Eliza sighed and stroked her fingers over Clemency’s slick, plump parts until Clemency, taking her by surprise, gripped her hand in her own fingers and pushed them deep inside herself, so that they were enveloped inside a warm, wet tunnel, gripped there, and then Clemency moved them, in and out, gently at first as she sucked still on Eliza’s nipple, and then faster, Eliza letting her, feeling Clemency’s excitement in the movements, feeling her own desire rise again, until Clemency let go of her hand and slipped her fingers deep inside Eliza instead in a movement that had Eliza crying out soundlessly, both their hands keeping up the rhythm, building towards a peak and then they climaxed, an explosion of breathless force that held them rigid, then let them loose to collapse against each other in a damp, breathless heap.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The rain against the window was a generous, hypnotic song and Eliza lay in the bed, her head on Clemency’s shoulder and listened to it as though it were a lullaby, and to the sound of Clemency’s breathing, and to the beat of her own heart, slowed now, returned to its normal gentle marking of time.
They’d not turned the lights on and the afternoon was dim, the light from the window dreamy in its shadows and Eliza watched the way the curtains moved every now and then when the breeze blew in through the cracked window, a sort of shy shimmying in the breeze, and the shadows seemed to dance too, to wind themselves sinuously around each other.