Chapter 33 Flowww

As I loosened my corset, wishing it were Benedict tugging free the ties, I found myself envying Thomas and Jessamine. I’d taken a lover when I first went to university, and another soon after, but since entering the business partnership with Benedict, I’d had no one. Which was silly. I had to stop pining for him and get on with my life. But the séance had made me a bit maudlin and the sherry I sipped while I removed my layers and slipped into my nightclothes made me decide to indulge in my fantasies one last time. I lay back on the pillows, my fingers plucking at the budded peaks of my breasts beneath my white nightdress. The pressure of the corset always made them sensitive. I cupped the heaviness of my breasts, stroking the tips with my thumbs, wishing it were Benedict’s slender fingers performing the task. I imagined him leaning over me, murmuring in that low voice about how they pressed, reddened, against the cotton. I licked my thumbs and repeated the motions while in my mind’s eye Benedict was bending to suckle the buds through the fabric, his mouth warm and then the air cooler when he pulled away. I pushed my nightdress up and reached for the device I’d set near to hand on the nightstand. The space between my thighs felt thick, needy, and the scent of my own arousal drifted to my nostrils, spicy-sweet. My hips shifted restlessly on the bed, as if of their own accord, as I fumbled with the brass dial, trying to get the infernal thing to— The knock at my door startled me so badly I nearly shrieked. I muffled it down to a squeak and managed to call out in a mostly normal voice, “Who is it?” “It’s me, of course.” Benedict, sounding brisk to the edge of impatience, as usual. My heart leapt for a different reason, my desire- and fantasy-fogged brain allowing me to believe that he was there to see me, finally. I scrambled off the bed, staring at the device in my hand. I couldn’t just set it back on the bedside table! There was no other easy hiding place, so I shoved it under my pillow and grabbed my robe, belting it around my waist just before I pulled the door open. Benedict shoved his way in and closed the door behind him, then turned. Whatever he was going to say died on his lips, and for a moment he simply stared at me. Benedict had seen me in my nightclothes before, due to the nature of our late-night excursions, but perhaps it was that my hair was unbound and loose around my shoulders. Or was I flushed? It took everything in my power not to raise a hand to feel if my cheeks were hot. Then he shook his head and said, “Everyone’s getting drunk downstairs. I slipped away saying I had to relieve myself, so they might eventually notice I’m gone. We have a little time.