Ladies Who Love: An Erotica Collection. Elizabeth Coldwell

this chance this woman would be lost to her for ever.

      ‘I do. But I’m not taking advantage of you. Look, hands off.’ She took her hands from her waist and held them in the air. The irony of the words she used wasn’t lost on either of them. She smiled.

      ‘I’m teasing you.’ Juliette returned her smile. ‘It’s his favourite fantasy, you know, seeing me with another woman. I’ve never fulfilled it for him. Although I’ve fulfilled many others.’

      ‘Indeed?’ Sophie feigned surprise. But she could always tell. Some women exuded innocence; some spoke of their virginity with pride, although very few did these days. Juliette was not one of those women.

      Juliette touched Sophie’s arm again, causing her to shudder. Her hands had encircled the other woman’s waist, like his would do on the day. She tried to suppress her jealousy, to no avail.

      ‘Yes, I’ve gone along with many things. But not that. You don’t think I’m going to try it now, do you? Without him here to watch?’

      Sophie looked away. The woman was taunting her, playing with her. But that didn’t quell her desire, it intensified it.

      ‘I don’t know. I would, but then I know I’m good. Better than many men. I understand what pleases women. But if you’re not interested, then that’s your loss. I can find my pleasure elsewhere. You’re not the only woman in the world.’ This last statement felt insincere. Juliette was clearly not the only woman in the world, but she was the woman Sophie was most desperate to fuck and be fucked by.

      Juliette hesitated, then leant towards her, tilting her head slightly, and kissed her. She broke away for a second.

      ‘I think you may have helped me change my mind. I like someone strong and persuasive. It’s sexy.’

      Sophie could taste mint and lip gloss. She might have won her over. Juliette kissed her again. Sophie closed her eyes, imagining that this would soon end and she would be alone. But the kiss became more intense. Juliette parted her lips with her tongue, flicking around inside Sophie’s mouth, twisting around her own tongue. She responded, returning the kiss. Juliette cupped her face in her hands, stroking her cheek, pushing her hair back. Sophie savoured the moment, not knowing if it would end abruptly. Juliette could change her mind, feel she had made a mistake, pay for her dress, disappear from her studio and her life. She had to seize this moment. She reached round the tiny waist and undid the bow, slowly releasing the stays, loosening the bodice. She felt Juliette’s body relax. She stroked her back. Her tailor’s hand had a sensitive touch. Juliette shivered, pulling back from the kiss. Sophie held her breath. Was this it? Was it all over so fleetingly? Was the one kiss all she would have to fantasise about?

      ‘Are you sure you want me?’ Juliette asked, tracing her fingers down Sophie’s cheek. Sophie knew she must take her chance.

      ‘Yes,’ she whispered. Her hands released Juliette’s breasts from the dress, she bent her head to the dark nipples, taking one then the other between her lips, her teeth, sucking, biting, licking, showing Juliette how she wanted her. Her breasts were full, round, soft. The skin was smooth. Sophie knew their shape, their size, and now she was experiencing their full erotic effect. The studio lights created shadows. Sophie stood back slightly, holding Juliette’s shoulders, turning her from left to right, admiring her, touching with her fingertips. Juliette’s eyes closed, but Sophie knew now it was not from denial but from hunger.

      There had been a shift in the dynamics between the two women in the room. A subtle shift. Sophie held the balance of power now. She was the one who could excite and tantalise. Juliette was in her sway. Sophie was no longer the obedient servant, she was the dominant one.

      ‘Take it down.’ Her voice held some force. Juliette met her gaze, then pushed the loosened dress down, exposing her waist, reddened by the tightness of the stays, her full hips, encased in a thong, then her pale thighs. The dress finally fell like a pool of blood to the floor, and she stepped away from it.