Heart over Head (M)

[Atalanta Pendergast]

Sitting at her vanity table, Attie absent-mindedly fingers the lace neckline of her tea gown. There had been no need for an evening gown tonight. With Reuben conspicuously absent once again there had seemed utterly no point changing for a formal dinner, but of course there had been another reason. With the memory of Margaret's lips on hers so fresh and searing the thought of being undressed again, of fingers lingering and brushing against her skin, had been all too tantalising to contemplate. This morning had been agony enough, and so Atalanta had spent the day in a tea dress. She had been lucky not to receive company, but she had somehow made it through the day without a visitor or an owl, and now she and Margaret were alone and it was time.

Her cheeks flushed at the thought. Time for her nightclothes of course, but she was all too aware of the silent promise they had made yesterday morning and despite her best intentions Attie wasn't entirely sure she could make it through another undressing without wanting to fulfil that promise.

A knock at the door interrupted her reverie and butterflies exploded in her stomach. Athena happily scampered on the ground behind her, oblivious to the turmoil of her mistress and clearly eager to see Margaret but the poor thing would have to go if Attie's heart won battle with her head and somehow she suspected it would.

"Come," she called gently, keeping her voice as steady as possible.

  

[Margaret O'Neill]

The day had been long and at times absolutely unbearable. Until yesterday one of the few delights in her life had been the fact that she got to undress her mistress at least three times a day, trailing silk and soft cotton over milk-white skin and letting her eyes wonder over the wonder before her but today she had been denied that. If she didn't know any better she would have thought she'd done something wrong; in a wild moment of panic at during her afternoon tea break she'd wondered whether she'd been mistaken after all and Attie's response to her yesterday had in fact been negative and somehow she'd imagined the pressure of her mistress' lips pressing back.

But she hadn't, she knew she hadn't and now she was coming back to Attie's room for the first time that day with her stomach in knots, somehow aware that she was going to get precisely what she wanted. She had been unable to think about anything but what she desired above everything else all day and now...

Now, what if she did it wrong? Attie was a long-married woman and didn't seem like a stranger to kisses of the like they had shared yesterday and what on earth would her beautiful lady think if she knew quite how proper her maid really was.

She opened the door when she was bid and entered the room, her breath catching in her throat as she took in the sight of the woman she had left in exactly this state earlier. It had been mere hours but she'd forgotten somehow quite how lovely Attie was.

"I..." Pleasantries died on her lips, nonsense about having a good evening or asking after her day and instead Margaret smiled with as much bravado as she could. "Everyone else is in bed."

  

[Atalanta Pendergast]

Her throat was suddenly dry. Margaret was as lovely as she had been that morning, even lovelier if it was at all possible than she had been the day before, and the fluttering in her stomach increased tenfold. She was hardly inexperienced, though she and Reuben had never been passionate, but she had more than enough knowledge of lovemaking û thirty years in fact û but it all seemed fruitless now. She was suddenly eighteen again, standing before the marriage bed and praying she did everything right. Attie had never loved a woman before, after all, and it was hardly the sort of thing one could read up about in an instruction manual! There was every chance she could make an utter mess of this and that was the last thing she wanted when she cared so very much for the other woman. But they could only learn together, assuming Margaret hadn't done this before either, and she smiled nervously, smoothing a hand over her somersaulting stomach.

"Perhaps we should follow suit?"

She hadn't meant for her response to sound quite so wanton and she flushed immediately. But that was precisely what she wanted, Margaret in her bed, and she did her best to dispel the nerves with a hopeful smile.

"Will you join me, Margaret?"

  

[Margaret O'Neill]

The very thought of being on this bed again with Attie had been enough to get her through the day, but the memory of yesterday morning had certainly helped. After the kiss the kitten had attacked and grudgingly, dutifully they had acknowledged that they might be throwing caution to the wind in a manner that was too unbecoming for even two women on the brink of this sort of affair. Margaret had kissed her again though, holding her hand tightly as she threaded fingers through Attie's longer, softer ones and in the kiss had been a promise of later, tomorrow, soon.

And now they were as alone as they were ever going to get and Margaret could feel the same flush she'd had yesterday creeping back up her throat. How curious it was that she could feel like this just by Atalanta's simple presence now; or perhaps she'd been like this all along and never noticed. It wasn't out of the question given how muddled her mind had been lately.

"Of course," it sounded silly and formal the moment it left her lips and Margaret smiled to herself, oddly bemused by how easy things were when they spoke in their old rhythms and yet so much had changed in such a short time.

"That is," she looked up boldly, her eyes meeting Attie's and becoming lost in them again. "Once I've undressed you as usual I suppose."

  

[Atalanta Pendergast]

The words sent a shiver up her spine and Attie nodded wordlessly before something far more tantalising occurred to her and she took one minute step closer. She was breathlessly nervous but her heart spurred her on, prompting her to reach out and curl her fingers around Margaret's calloused ones. The tips were rough, no doubt from years of pricked fingers and hard work, but her palms were curiously soft. Lotion, perhaps, she mused, as she brushed her thumb experimentally over the soft flesh. She knew Margaret prepared her own and she was glad she made some use of it other than generously spreading it over her own skin. That was a tantalising thought in itself given their present situation, and she felt her knees go weak.

Tightening her grip on Margaret's hand, she brought her fingers tentatively to her lips, kissing each digit in turn within lingering softness and fruitlessly attempting to control the pounding of her heart. She could practically hear it and she smiled somewhat self-consciously as she pressed her mouth to the last one.

"I won't take anymore than five minutes to undress in this old thing," she murmured, taking another step closer and pressing their hands lightly between them, over Margaret's heart with her fingers brushing against the impression of her breast, and lightly fingering the little buttons holding her bodice together. "Let me help you."

It hardly seemed fair, after all, that Margaret had seen her in all her dubious glory and she had yet to see her skin at all.

  

[Margaret O'Neill]

In the back of her mind Margaret was aware that in the novels now was usually the moment when the seduced heroine would say something terribly poignant or dramatic but she could barely make a noise in her dry throat, let alone have it be something witty. It probably didn't help her situation that this moment was usually when the scene changed too and though she knew what to do in theory, in practice she could manage nothing but shaking.

Attie's fingers were agonisingly close to her flesh now though and acting on pure instinct she leant into the touch and felt warmth seep through to the swell of her breast. She had never before understood why Janet had been so easily duped into getting into trouble but perhaps things were beginning to become clearer: her heart was racing like a Derby horse and she felt more than a little bit lightheaded but sweet Merlin if she didn't sate this she might go insane.

Wrapping her fingers around Attie's she moved her lady's hand to the buttons at the back. The action brought her body closer to Attie's and she could feel the soft warmth of her lady's skin through the fabric of both of their dresses; she smiled nervously but for the first time felt as though she might be going in the right direction.

"It might help to start here."

Leaning in she brushed her lips lightly against Attie's and felt as though she could happily melt into the other woman.

  

[Atalanta Pendergast]

Attie's cheeks grew rosy, as much from the feel of Margaret's body against hers as anything else, but she could not help but feel the sting of embarrassment at the tender chastisement. She supposed she wasn't expected to undress herself. Indeed, a woman in her position, the wife of a Pendergast, would be looked down upon for exerting one's self in such a way, but she should be capable of doing so should the situation arise, and capable of locating the ties to another woman's dress! Still, Margaret meant it in the very sweetest way and the warmth in her voice and the desire in her eyes banished the lingering embarrassment.

And the kiss helped. It had taken all the willpower she possessed to send Margaret away with only this yesterday but it was impossible now. Pressing her lips back against hers, still soft but with more self-confidence than she had displayed yesterday morning, she lightly tugged at the first of the little black buttons with all too eager fingers: there were far more buttons than she would like but she would spend all night undoing them if the reward was the other woman's skin. The first came away with ease and she set to work on the others, holding Margaret's waist with the other trembling hand.

  

[Margaret O'Neill]

The question of whether to change her dress and underthings had plagued Margaret for much of the day and she had only persuaded herself to leave her appearance as it was by almost hourly reminders that she had somehow managed to make Attie like her enough as she was to kiss he û it was probably best not to meddle. But still she couldn't help but wish she had half as pretty a dress as her mistress or indeed that the material was as soft to the touch. In a moment of desperate clarity she thought that the best thing to do was probably get their clothes off as quickly as possible so they would stand a chance of appearing more equal.

The implications of such a thought hit her a moment later and she blushed bright red from the roots of her hair right down to her breasts, which she could feel heaving uncomfortably against the tight corset. Attie's fingers had succeeded in freeing her dress and Margaret let it be pulled from her arms and down over her stomach.

Breathing heavily she broke the kiss for a moment, reaching up to brush the loose strands of hair from Attie's face and press her lips softly to her soft cheek, trailing them down to her jaw and her throat, suckling at each spot in turn trying to seek the most desirable.

  

[Atalanta Pendergast]

Reuben had certainly never done this. Attie had never imagined there could be pleasure in this sort of thing before and she let out a whimper as she melted into the touch. Margaret was exploring her, in a way Reuben had never bothered, and amongst the desire she felt a powerful tug of emotion: Margaret cared about her pleasure as much as she did her own. Her fingers momentarily ceased their quest, gliding up and threading through the other woman's hair, holding her head blissfully in place. It wasn't the first time she had wondered what Margaret's hair would look like down, and she supposed now she would found out. She found the pins û one, two, three, four, five, six, and pulled them free with ease, running her fingers this time through loose hair which felt almost as glorious as the lips traversing her throaù

"Oh!" she breathed.

Margaret's lips had found a particularly sensitive spot and if she hadn't had her fingers curled possessively around the other woman's hip then her legs would almost certainly have given out. She vaguely prayed that Margaret hadn't marked her, but the reckless part of her hoped she had and she tugged more earnestly at the material about the maid's waist before lightly fingering the ties of the material covering Margaret's breasts.

The corset and chemise would have to go.

  

[Margaret O'Neill]

Margaret's lips curled up into a smile of satisfaction at Attie's reaction to her explorations. It was enormously gratifying to know that she at least had an idea what to do even if she was still convinced that at any given moment she was going to give herself away utterly. Janet had never failed to find an unkind word to say on the subject of her spinsterhood and she supposed that over the years some of the cruel jibes hadn't been as easy to deflect and had sunken in, but the very last thing on her mind at the moment was her sister and she was wrong anyway!

Bolstered by her newfound ability Margaret pulled back from the trail her lip was making down Attie's throat, having already memorised the spot she wanted to return to. She met Attie's eye and smiled with surety, breathing deeply and watching as Attie pulled the ties free. The ribbon holding her chemise together came away easily enough but the whole lot was still rather held together by her corset and despite her stab of nerves she lifted her own hand to cover Attie's.

"I can do the corset unlessà"

She lowered her head, a throaty laugh at the back of her throat.

"Unless you're going to surprise me?"

  

[Atalanta Pendergast]

Attie didn't think she could surprise anyone, and certainly not with practicalities such as corsets. The buttons of Margaret's gown had been surprisingly easy to manage, but she supposed people were capable of anything if they wanted something badly enough, but the clasps looked complicated and she had never once tackled her own before. Lovemaking with Reuben had involved either being deposited half naked into bed by a lady's maid or making do with the corset on, and neither had been particularly comfortable. But she wanted this to be perfect: a romantic notion, but Margaret made her feel all manner of those and she gave the other woman's hand a squeeze, pulling it from her chest with reluctance and settling it on her own. Her dress still clung regrettably to her skin but she was certain Margaret could remedy that in less than a minute and then she would be free to teach her the art of unclasping corsets. She had every intention of undressing Margaret herself, after all: she just needed a little instruction.

"Show me?" she murmured hoarsely, her heart pounding furiously underneath their joint hands and she brushed her thumb tenderly over Margaret's knuckles. "I want to undress you myself."

  

[Margaret O'Neill]

The prospect of being undressed was one that she had tried not to think about too much through the day. It wasn't that she was especially ashamed of her body but she had assumed if something was going to happen tonight then Attie might want her to be as undressed as she was and that notion had been rather distressing whenever she'd thought about how perfect Attie looked under her clothes. Of course, after thinking about what Attie looked like under her clothes her mood improved and she decided to focus on that instead.

Margaret smiled and leaned forwards, pressing her lips lightly against Attie's before rocking back into her place next to the other woman, smirking this time. Undressing Attie was something she could do with expert hands after all.

Reaching around her mistress she found the buttons easily and slipped her finger through the gap between the first two, her digit grazing the hidden skin tantalisingly before popping the button open. Leaning forward again she pressed her lips back to Attie's throat, suckling on her newfound favourite spot and she pulled the rest free and eased the dress from Attie's shoulders until it was around her waist.

"Watch," she said, licking her lips and sitting back up with her fingers poised at the top of the corset in imitation of Attie's. "The clasps come away like this."

  

[Atalanta Pendergast]

Atalanta shivered underneath the teasing of Margaret's fingers û she was sure she was brushing her skin on purpose û and watched, unblinkingly, as Margaret undid each clasp, fiddling nimbly with her fingers until each one popped free and the air from the room rushed down her chemise and caressed bare skin. She had never been an especially avid potions student for example, nor had she ever grasped charms, but this she suspected she would quickly grasp, if only because she couldn't look away, despite the considerable distraction of Margaret's lips against her throat. It was dreadfully intimate, and the corset was suddenly terribly tight against her breasts as her breathing quickened and her heart raced furiously with desire.

Margaret had undressed her before, but never for the express purpose of making love to her, and Attie didn't think she had ever experienced anything more erotic in her life.

"I think I can manage that," Attie breathed, swallowing hard as the corset came free with ease and left her in nothing but a thin chemise. If she could see the shadow of her nipples beneath it was likely Margaret could too, and the knowledge prompted a rush of pleasure that culminated deep in her core.

But she wanted more, and abandoning her restraint entirely she covered Margaret's hand with hers and slipped it, fingers trembling, inside her own chemise and pressed it to one soft breast. Her heart pounded underneath Margaret's palm and her skin flushed, and she had never been more nervous in her life, but she had never wanted anything more and she smiled softly through the nerves.

"You were right yesterday," she murmured, lips close to Margaret's. "There is nothing wrong with this."

  

[Margaret O'Neill]

There was everything wrong with it in the eyes of most of the world, Margaret could hardly pretend otherwise, but neither could she deny the press of Attie's flesh against her fingers being the finest sensation she had ever experienced. She wanted this woman and for whatever cockeyed reasons Atalanta somehow wanted her too and she would be a fool to ruin the mood with her hesitance.

Instead she took Attie's lead and cupped the breast under her hand properly, instinctively brushing her thumb lightly over the pebbling nipple and smiling at the reaction it elicited in Attie. Carefully she moved her body until she was on her feet, leaning over Attie, hand determinately still in place and without breaking the kiss, and with her free hand pushed the bunched up fabric at her waist to the ground to at least remove one obstacle. She pressed Attie back on the bed with care, hovering over her as she crawled back onto the bed herself, littering the other woman's lips and neck with kisses as her finger reached up to carefully peel away the chemise.

The feel of Attie's breast had been spectacular but the sight of her rough fingers on the soft flesh spurred her on and she made a noise of pleasure at the back of her throat before swallowing heavily.

"Can...can I kiss you here too?"

  

[Atalanta Pendergast]

The groan of pleasure was nearly Attie's undoing and Merlin, she wished that she would. The feel of Margaret's fingers had been pleasurable enough but she could scarcely imagine what her lips would be like. Her fingers had been gloriously rough but her lips were soft and had already thoroughly ravished the most sensitive spots of her neck. She quivered at the thought of what they would do to her breasts and she breathlessly granted permission, nodding incoherently as her fingers combed through beautifully soft hair.

She was rather reluctant to persistently compare Margaret to Reuben in her mind--because if nothing else both parties deserved better--but it as impossible not to note that the one time Reuben had even attempted this in their two and a half decades together she had been smarting for a week. But Margaret was nothing if not considerate: her eyes stung with the care she had displayed when she had pressed her back against the bed.

Attie drew her in slowly for another kiss--softer, slower, deeper than the others and infused with desire, and pressed her hand tentatively against Margaret's breast in imitation of the one caressing her own.

  

[Margaret O'Neill]

If Margaret could have melted into the kiss she thought she might have done; her whole body felt like honey oozing against Attie's and every tiny slither of air that existed between their bodies felt like a waste of glorious contact. Her breath caught in her throat at Attie's touch and she tried to prevent her whole body from trembling at something so simple.

If she had her way they Attie was going to touch more than just her breast over her chemise so she really should try not to give herself away at being inexperienced so quickly! Her lips parted from Attie's for just a moment, enough for her to see the encouragement in the other woman's eyes and she managed to stem the heat and yearning crackling through her for long enough to brush Attie's hair from her eyes and smile softly.

The words she longed to say stayed in her throat but somehow in their long silent embrace she felt that Attie had heard her.

She pressed her lips to Attie's again before kissing the corner of her lips, then her chin, her throat, taking particular care to pay homage to the earlier discovered spot, until finally she reached new terrain. Her lips traced the soft skin that lead down Attie's chest and Margaret licked her lips as she reached to tops of her breasts, inadvertently catching the skin with her roving tongue.

Tentatively she closed her eyes and pressed her lips to the softest skin she had ever encountered, the warmth of Attie's breast transcendent against her mouth and the give of the flesh a revelation. She could spend hours just kissing this woman's breasts and never become tired.