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bloom open in delicious pleasure.
    How hungry
they still were.
    Elizabeth’s
hands knew her body well, after long years of delightful exploration. There was
no hesitation, no fear, no holding back. They were eager still, greedy, but
each knew just how to please the other, and they did, as often as they could,
as many ways as they could find. Catherine moaned and spread her legs, rubbing
herself as Elizabeth dipped her tongue into her navel, teasing her way
downward. She was wet and ready and wanting.
    “Yes.”
Catherine felt her lover’s fingers probing inside, her tongue exploring the
soft, wet folds. There was nothing quite like this—Elizabeth’s full breasts
pressed against her thighs, her tongue tracing soft, rounded patterns again and
again over the tender bud of flesh between her parted lips, her lover’s hand
cupping her breast and pulling at her nipple, making her writhe and moan.
Nothing could compare to the soft, gentle, tender lapping lusciousness of the
two of them together.
    “Oh!” The
Lady Montague’s thighs spread wide, trembling and quivering with her impending
orgasm, and the Lady Capulet knew it. Elizabeth’s mouth worked faster, her
tongue a relentless urging, her fingers a rhythmic encouragement. There was no
stopping it, and they both wanted just this. Catherine’s hands curled against
the coverlet, her cries filling the room as she came, flooding her lover’s
mouth with her juices. Elizabeth moaned too, eager to taste more, lapping at
her quivering flesh.
    They
collapsed together, their cheeks flushed, and Catherine kissed Elizabeth’s
mouth, licking at her chin, tasting herself, her body still riding the wave of
her climax, a dreamy, slow-moving rush.
    “You are the
most beautiful woman who has ever been alive,” Elizabeth murmured against her
throat, her dark hair falling over them like a curtain. “I am ever going to
love you, no matter what tries to come between us.”
    Their eyes
met and they both remembered being in this bed chamber so many years ago,
verily like this, when Lady Capulet’s husband came home early from his journey.
It had been a cruel twist of fate, an ill-timed thing, and both women had
sobbed at their respective husbands’ feet and begged forgiveness. They had been
long separated that first time. Both husbands had put their heads together and
had been quite successful in keeping the families completely apart.
    “You are the
beauty.” Catherine pulled the dark-haired woman onto her and kissed her full on
the lips. “My dark beauty.”
    Their
breasts, full and soft, pressed together as they rolled on the bed, kissing and
touching each other, all hungry hands and mouths. There seemed no sating their
desire for one another. They had tried. Oh, had they tried!
    Elizabeth
rolled to her belly and lifted her bottom in the air, looking back over her
shoulder at her lover. Catherine chuckled, slipping between her thighs and
spreading the other woman’s lips. Her hair there was dark and curly, her center
appearing even more pink in contrast when she was parted like this. So wet!
Catherine could smell her and longed to taste her.
    But she knew
Elizabeth wanted something else first. Catherine knelt between her thighs,
slipping first one, then two, then three fingers into her crevice, making her
lover moan and press back against her hand. She began moving her fingers,
slowly at first, in and out, putting her hips into the motion, giving them more
force. Catherine used her own thighs to spread her wider, working her hips and
pelvis against Elizabeth’s bottom as she shoved her fingers deep, again and
again.
    “Yes!”
Elizabeth arched her back, rocking with each thrust, her fingers searching
underneath and finding the tender nub of flesh that could send her to heaven
and back, rubbing it fast and hard. Her cries and moans grew louder with every
push forward, and she met each thrust with her own until Catherine’s hand was
drenched to the wrist, her fingers puckered