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  “And I can’t wait to meet them. Which will happen only after you’ve come again in my mouth,” said Amelia firmly.

  “Bossy Miss Tilton,” grumbled Beatrice, yet her eyes were shining. “But in the interests of equality, and with an eye on the clock, I think it might be better if we made each other come. There is another position we could try. Turn around so you are crouched over my face.”

  Both startled and intrigued, Amelia pondered the new position. Then she shifted on the guest bed. It was awkward, and she felt a little foolish as she straddled Beatrice’s face and slowly lowered her pussy to her lover’s lips, but at the first touch of that wicked tongue, she moaned in delight. “You have the very best ideas, Miss Irving.”

  “Mmm hmm,” said Beatrice.

  She giggled as she balanced herself on her elbows and leaned down to nuzzle her beloved’s mound, flicking Beatrice’s clitoris with just the tip of her tongue. And then she could barely think at all, as the intense satisfaction of pleasuring and being pleasured at the same time swept her away in a flood of sensation. Beatrice held her thighs in a fierce grip, her tongue a delight of slow laps, and deep, curling plunges, compelling Amelia to press her face further into Beatrice’s pussy and suck hard on her clitoris. It became a diabolical duel of wills, of tenderness and familiarity expressed with lips and tongues, but Amelia was determined to be the victor. And at last, she got her way, as Beatrice jerked, her heels flat on the bed as her knees bent and hips bucked, and sweet, spicy juices coated Amelia’s mouth and chin. A moment later she surrendered and hurtled toward ecstasy, her hips circling and grinding against Beatrice’s mouth as a brutal orgasm tore through her.

  “You win,” said Beatrice, an exhausted but beaming smile on her face as Amelia fell onto her side, somehow managing to turn herself around and cuddle close.

  “I think,” said Amelia slowly, smoothing Beatrice’s hair, “it was an honorable draw. And I must say I like that position very much.”

  Beatrice nodded. “Me too. I was inspired by a Roman etching. Especially good when one is in a hurry. Or managing space constraints.”

  She laughed. “Very true. The cottage isn’t overly large. And we’ll have to employ a few servants at least. Perhaps an open-minded husband and wife to serve as footman and housekeeper. Plus a few maids.”

  “I’m sure Lady Portia will be able to help. Nothing shocks her servants, and they are all marvelously discreet. We could ask her after the meeting.”

  Amelia sighed and bit her lip. In truth, she was rather nervous at meeting Lady Portia again, a woman she had briefly conversed with just once before, in London. As a married countess who had only known a man’s touch. Now she was a miss, and her lover a woman. “Should I don armor?” she asked, only half-joking.

  Beatrice tugged her into a sitting position and cupped her cheeks. “Not today. Our hostess only bites under a full moon. Although from what I hear, she isn’t especially fond of the Prince Regent. I understand the Carlton house set refer to her as ‘pistol Portia’ due to the speed at which she can stop someone in their tracks. But she has been nothing but wonderful to Society members; she offered me this room before I even had the courage to ask. And she will love you. As I love you.”

  Oh. They had spoken of tender feelings and need, had shown each other with their bodies, but it wasn’t until that moment she realized how much the words ‘I love you’ meant. If she weren’t shattered after multiple orgasms, she’d twirl around the room. “Tell me again.”

  “I love you.”

  “Again!”

  Beatrice laughed, her whole face lighting up. “I love you, I love you, I love you!”

  “I love you so much,” said Amelia. “The forever kind.”

  “Music to my ears. But we really must get dressed. I believe today’s meeting will showcase a fine display of foreign dildos.”

  Amelia choked on a giggle as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “This society sounds frightfully interesting.”

  “Oh, it is! There aren’t many of us at present, but we have such fun talking about all sorts of deliciously naughty things, and then have a substantial supper.”

  “I take it then that they won’t bat an eyelash at two women in love?”

  “Not at all. We care about each other’s happiness. Not judgment. Besides, we aren’t the only ones to go against the norm. Madeline’s liaisons are legendary, and Clay beds women and men,” finished Beatrice earnestly.

  Well. That sealed it then. And for the second time in the day, her heart surged with hope. True love and some remarkable new friends? Now that would be beyond her wildest dreams.

  “Let’s get dressed. I cannot wait for my induction into the Surrey Sexual Freedom Society!”

  The beginning of something wonderful, indeed.

  Epilogue

  Her beloved was adorably nervous, patting her hair and gown for the five hundredth time as they made their way downstairs.

  “Dearest, you look perfect,” said Beatrice, trying to suppress a wayward grin. “Your gown has no wrinkles. I promise.”

  Amelia glanced up at her ruefully. “I know. But this is my first meeting as a prospective member, and I don’t want to be thrown out on my behind.”

  “Why would you think for a moment you wouldn’t be accepted?”

  She shrugged. “Habit. You are the only person who has ever wanted me as I am. And the scandal, of course.”

  “Oh, Amelia,” said Beatrice, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “I do. And do not worry. They know the fault rests entirely on Garrick’s shoulders. Now let’s hurry and take our seats. Lady Portia is a stickler for punctuality.”

  When they entered the parlor Amelia gripped her arm, and Beatrice squeezed her hand reassuringly. Her lover smiled, but her complexion remained pale. Which was understandable, meeting new people could be difficult in the best of circumstances. But after the trials of the past few weeks…

  Clay leaped to his feet. “Bea, old girl! And on your arm…well, well. The ravishing Miss Tilton. Dare I hope for happy news?”

  Beatrice beamed. “Happy news indeed. Amelia and I will be living in sin together, starting tomorrow.”

  “Hooray!” Clay yelled, punching the air with his fist. “Then welcome, cousin. Call me Clayton, considering we’ll be family in the only way that matters. Lady Portia will be here in a moment, she is just unpacking a new set of Florentine leather dildos to show today. ”

  Amelia’s tense shoulders eased, and Beatrice sent her cousin a grateful look. He just grinned and wiggled his eyebrows, and yet again she marveled at the folly of a father who thought such an irrepressible rogue would ever be happy in the clergy.

  “Very well. Clayton,” said Amelia shyly. “I understand you are a most celebrated artist?”

  “I’d prefer less celebration and more bank drafts, but such is the way for creative geniuses. Good news, though, Bea. Lady Portia weaved her magic, and I may have a new commission. That couple she talked about at the last meeting, the merchants turned baron and baroness, have agreed to meet with me and discuss terms as soon as they return from a short trip abroad they are about to embark on.”

  “How wonderful!” said Beatrice, enfolding him in a hug.

  “Indeed,” said Amelia, applauding.

  “With their wealth, they’ll be an excellent coup for our Clay,” said Madeline, as she stood and held out her hands. “Hello, Bea. And you must be the infamous Miss Tilton? I’m the wicked widow, Lady Upcott. Call me Madeline, if you like.”

  Beatrice squeezed her friend’s hands in thanks, and relief that Amelia had relaxed even further at being welcomed without so much as a sideways glance by a lady of the ton. Although Madeline often flouted convention, in her case rebelling by taking many lovers after her much older husband’s death.

  “Hello Madeline,” said Amelia warmly. “I’m Amelia, and very happy to meet you.”

  “I know it’s awkward to mention, but I’m so sorry about what happened. Just awful.
And then your father trying to marry you off to an ancient. Ugh. As if one bad marriage isn’t enough for a lifetime.”

  “I know!” Amelia burst out. “And a title does nothing to negate it.”

  “Precisely,” said Madeline with a dark frown. “My family, and my late husband’s family are now attempting to do what your father did and force me to wed again. I won’t stand for it.”

  Beatrice sighed. “You poor thing. Have they fixed a date to arrive?”

  “Tomorrow. A whole passel of skunks, vipers, and witless chickens underfoot. I am most displeased. From what I understand, the head of my late husband’s family is leading the charge. Bloody Viscount Dare—”

  “Do not fret, Madeline, we will all assist in getting rid of them. Good afternoon, Beatrice. And welcome, Miss Tilton,” said a brisk voice from the doorway.

  They glanced back to see Lady Portia, and Captain Denham.

  “Good afternoon, my lady,” said Amelia, curtsying. “And to you, captain.”

  The gruff bodyguard bowed but said nothing. Instead, he began to set out a range of leather dildos on the low table in the middle of the room. Beatrice nearly had a fit of giggles at the sight of the stoic ex-soldier carefully arranging pleasure toys from largest to smallest but managed to swallow it down.

  “Well, Miss Tilton—” said Lady Portia.

  “Please, call me Amelia.”

  Lady Portia smiled. “Well, Amelia. Hasn’t life been eventful for you in the past month? Discarded an unsatisfactory husband and found the love of your life.”

  Amelia tilted her head. “I don’t know if found is the right word. Beatrice was right under my nose the whole time. More like, had my eyes opened. Although I did find happiness.”

  “Huzzah,” said Clay, raising his brandy glass. “To finding happiness. May I, and darling Maddy, and Lady Portia and Denham be as fortunate.”

  Lady Portia snorted. “I’m far too busy to search for happiness. Places to go and peers to persuade to my way of thinking. But I take it you wish to join the Society, Amelia?”

  “Very much so,” she said softly, her hands clasping in front of her. “I have made great strides in broadening my experiences with Bea, but I feel like there is a whole world of new delights to learn about.”

  “Oh, indeed,” said Lady Portia, her eyes suddenly glinting mischievously. “Then I have some questions for you. Will you support my charitable works with your time and talents?”

  “Wholeheartedly.”

  “Will you promise to love and cherish Beatrice for as long as you both shall live?”

  Clay chuckled. “That line sounds somehow familiar…ow, Maddy, what was the kick for?”

  “I promise,” said Amelia solemnly. Beatrice looked down at her and was warmed to the very soul at the adoration shining back at her.

  “Then by the power vested in me,” said Lady Portia, “as chairwoman of the Surrey Sexual Freedom Society, I hereby admit you as a full member.”

  Madeline smiled approvingly. “Very well done.”

  “Capital,” said Clay. “Now, speaking of members...c’mon, let’s see those dildos. Florentine leather is exquisite to the touch, and they do look generous in size, but it’s all about what you do with it, eh Denham?”

  Surprisingly, a faint line of color appeared on the captain’s cheeks. “Quite,” he muttered.

  “Oooh, look at the thumb-sized ones,” said Madeline, as they formed a circle around the table. “Just perfect for one’s backside.”

  Amelia sent her a wide-eyed glance. Beatrice patted her hand. “Yes, we’ll try. We have lots of lovely things to try.”

  And at that moment her happiness was complete as Amelia leaned down to admire the display, her cheeks pinkening and her eyes bright with curiosity. They would have such fun together, and with Lady Portia’s schemes to fill their days, and each other to hold and love at night…

  Well, life couldn’t get any more perfect than that.

  THE END

  Also by Nicola Davidson

  Regency

  The London Lords

  To Love a Hellion (#1)

  Rake to Riches (#2)

  Tempting the Marquess (#3)

  Fallen

  Surrender to Sin (#1)

  The Devil's Submission (#2)

  The Seduction of Viscount Vice (#3)

  Standalones

  Once Upon a Promise

  Joy to the Earl (In the anthology A Very Wicked Christmas)

  Tudor

  His Forbidden Lady

  One Forbidden Knight

  Contemporary

  Ladies First (erotic short stories)

  About the Author

  NICOLA DAVIDSON worked for many years in communications and marketing as well as television and print journalism, but hasn’t looked back since she decided writing wicked historical romance was infinitely more fun. When not chained to a computer she can be found ambling along one of New Zealand’s beautiful beaches, cheering on the champion All Blacks rugby team, history geeking on the internet, or daydreaming. If this includes chocolate—even better!

  www.nicola-davidson.com

  [email protected]