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Pairing: Mal/OFC
Disclaimer: The author makes no
claim to owning the rights of anything to do with Terry Pratchett or Discworld.
Something That We Do
Kisses, fevered and desperate, fingers tearing at laces, fumbling with buttons, seeking out pale flesh in the darkness. Rosamond tonight, the Older Woman – married for fifteen years to a husband who can’t please her and doesn’t care. Rosamond, who pants against my skin so softly I can barely tell she’s breathing, even when she climaxes, the firm, muscled walls of her body squeezing my fingers as they tighten and spasm around me. Rosamond who presses me against the wall, kneeling and lifting my skirts, whose quick fingers trace the edges of my hidden lips, brush my clit slowly at first, then faster, faster, who sinks her teeth into the flesh of my thigh as the pressure in my abdomen peaks and sends me over the edge, shaking and shuddering, her fingers never stopping, who laps my blood with a slow, teasing tongue, and brings me over the edge again with her mouth. Rosamond, Rosamond... there are half a dozen women who come to me as she does, seeking release from the fever in their blood, the desire that goads them as it goads me. Rosamond, I know, will never break my trust. Not because she loves me. Not even close to that. I know my secret’s safe with her because, if the word gets out, she has even more to lose. |