“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.”