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, and lapped 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 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 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.
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 here 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 the other woman’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 like a prune from the wetness.
“Are you ready?” Catherine plunged her fingers in deep, holding them there with her hips.
Elizabeth groaned, nodding, whispering, “Yes, yes, yes!” Without removing her hand, Catherine wiggled beneath her lover, who spread her thighs wider, enthusiastically opening her lips up with her own hands, eager for a tongue. Catherine groaned when Elizabeth sank down against her mouth, rocking her hips, forcing the fingers still buried inside her to move back and forth.
“Oh!” Elizabeth moaned and rocked, rocked and moaned, her hands cupping her full breasts, her thumbs rolling over her nipples. Catherine held onto her hip with one hand, using the other to push into her flesh, again and again, as her tongue made fast little circles between her thighs.
“Oh! Catherine!” Elizabeth shuddered and moaned, slipping a hand beneath her lover’s head as she came, grinding herself into the tongue and face between her thighs, riding it, each wave more delicious than the last. Catherine slowly slipped her fingers out, hearing Elizabeth sigh.
The two women found their way back under the coverlet again, their foreheads pressed together, breathing in each other’s scent, tasting each other in their mouths.
There were no words for a long time, just the soft, rounded press of their bellies together, their breasts rising and falling with their breath.
“He will come home this night for the feast.” The Lady Capulet opened her dark eyes and saw Catherine’s blue ones looking back at her. She brushed a golden curl from her fair cheek. “I wish you could stay and celebrate with us Juliet’s forthcoming wedding. I so wish for us to be as we once were.”
“I cannot,” the Lady Montague replied, her eyes sad. “You know as well as I that this feud between the houses keeps me from coming here most days, even disguised and veiled.”
“Yes.” Lady Capulet kissed her, swallowing hard, feeling tears stinging her eyes.
“It is you and I, my love… we are the feud between the Capulets and the Montagues.”
“I will not be parted from you.” The blonde woman’s eyes blazed with love and lust, like a blue fire.
“We will long love this way, if we can.” Lady Capulet closed her eyes, thinking of her daughter’s new life with Paris. She hoped for great happiness, great love between them. She wanted more for Juliet than stolen moments like these.
Lady Montague touched her lover’s cheek. “Love will not be denied, no matter from whence it came.”
“Never where it is bidden, it seems.” Lady Capulet sighed, pulling the other woman close.
They closed their eyes and slept together for a while, a Capulet and a Montague, with a plague creeping toward both their houses.