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It was supposed to be a short visit. Althea had promised her mother she’d be back by supper, a promise she had quickly grown to regret as the evening progressed but a promise she had meant to keep all the same. But the weather had other plans. A tempest hit the shore very suddenly, derailing any idea of leaving unless she wanted to brave the wind and the rain.
It was not something she wished to do, especially as she listened to the rain batter against the windows of Amber's shop relentlessly. She knew she should have expected it. The worst storms always occurred around that time of the year. Yet, caught up in a rush to visit her friend, she had not even thought to bring any covering. Not for the first time that evening, Althea cursed herself for being foolish.
“I don’t think it’s going to let up anytime soon,” Amber said from where she sat across the table, stirring the cup of tea in front of her almost mindlessly. Her head rested against a fist, eyes staring into the swirling liquid but distant. Amber had been a lot like that as of late. Not fully present even when she was physically there. Sometimes it almost seemed like she was absent from her body entirely until something called her back to attention. It was discomforting, though worry was the more predominant reaction. Amber had always been strange but her solemn moods were disquieting. Althea hated seeing her this way.
Althea had tried to wring her problems out of her. Like Amber often did to her, she pried to see what was bothering the other only to continuously fail. For all her talk about the Paragon and dragons and sea serpents, Amber was suspiciously tight-lipped when she wanted to be.
“And I don’t suppose Jek will be returning,” Amber continued with a sigh. “It’s probably best that we opted to stay in.”
Althea hummed a noncommittal agreement. Part of her wished they had gone out with the Six Duchies woman, if not for the company then for the entertainment. And the drinks. It had been a tiring few days and the next did not promise anything better. But Amber had claimed to be feeling fatigued, so ultimately they had decided on spending a nice quiet evening in the back of her shop after she closed up. Little good that seemed to be for either of their spirits, though.
Perhaps it was the exhaustion that made things difficult for herself, too, Althea thought. She had barely gotten any sleep since returning to Bingtown from her time spent on the Ophelia and when she did it seemed that all her dreams were plagued with worries. The Vivacia becoming a slaver. Kyle being captain and stealing her family’s ship. Having to return to being a Trader, eventually forced to become a proper Bingtown wife. Brashen.
Fucking Brashen.
It took Althea effort to keep herself from bashing her head against Amber’s wooden table at the thought of him. Her fingers clenched around her own ceramic teacup as frustration welled within her.
“Are you done with that or do you wish for me to let you break my expensive drinkware?”
Althea blinked. She hadn’t noticed how hard she had been gripping it. Chastised, she pushed the cup towards Amber. “Sorry.”
Amber didn’t say anything, she simply pushed herself to her feet with lips pressed thin. She rounded the table, collected what remained of her and Althea’s tea and then dumped it into the sink. When she finished washing the two dishes, she turned back around and leant against the counter with her arms folded over her chest.
She was silent for a moment, seemingly weighing something in her mind before she uncrossed her arms with another sigh. She walked back towards the table but didn’t sit down. Instead, she thrummed her fingernails against the backrest of her chair and stared at Althea. Her restlessness was just as uneasy to witness.
Under Amber’s heavy gaze, Althea fidgeted. But before she could assume the worst—like Amber being genuinely upset with her for nearly cracking her precious cup into pieces—Amber spoke up.
“You can stay the night here if you wish,” Amber offered, eyes flitting towards the unmade bed in the corner of the shop’s backroom. It was an innocent proposal, one completely normal to make between two female friends. Yet, combined with the intensity in Amber’s gaze it felt to be something different.
Althea couldn’t help it. Trying to make light of the mood, she joked in a flat tone. “Do you offer this to every woman stranded in your shop during a storm?”
Truth be told, she was surprised, though she didn’t understand why. Amber and her were friends. Perhaps she could even call the woman her best friend. So, really, it made no sense that her cheeks flamed with heat when Amber tossed her a crooked smile, eyes full of mirth and glee, and said, “Only those I’m quite fond of.”
Naturally, Althea stayed.
After pillaging through the chest of clothes at the foot of the bed, Amber gave Althea a spare nightgown to sleep in. It was long, with bellowed sleeves and a collar that went all the way up her neck that Althea was sure would choke her, but amongst what little of Amber’s belongings remained at the shop she was not left with many options.
“It might be a tad bit tight but it should fit you,” Amber told her as she handed it over. It was soft, so at least there was that, and when Althea put it on it fit well enough.
Amber found something for herself, then left the room to ready herself for bed. When she returned, her face was bare and instead of a gown she wore a loose shirt and skirt that didn’t look anything at all like the fashion from Bingtown or the Six Duchies. Althea was not sure if it was even proper sleepwear. And as always, she kept one glove on.
Without her face paints, Amber looked a lot more masculine. It brought Althea back to her first impression of the woman, which seemed so long ago. It was a wonder how much could change in less than a year. So many things in her life were different. It was as if the loss of her father sparked a chain of never ending world-altering events. Things could never go back to the way they were before or be the same again.
Amber doused the lamp on the table, leaving only a single candle burning to light her way back across the room. The floor creaked as she padded to the bed and climbed in beside Althea.
The bed was hardly big enough for two grown women. They laid so close together that Althea could feel the other woman’s hair tickle her cheek. Oddly enough, she could feel no warmth emitting from her friend despite the lack of space between their bodies. Amber's shoulder pressed against hers as they both laid on their backs, cool underneath her nightshirt.
"Sharing a bed with a close friend. I feel like a child again," Amber said beside her. Althea didn’t need to turn her head to know that she was grinning.
"You did this as a child?" She asked, curious.
"You didn't?"
"No," Althea confessed. "Well. With Keffria, once or twice. Sometimes between my parents when I had a nightmare. But never with a friend."
She did not have any childhood friends close enough to share a bed with, she didn't say, embarrassed. Not that it would have made a difference. Even if she had it was not the Trader way. The Trader way consisted of a maid preparing a guest chamber, bidding a friend goodnight before parting ways in the hall, and only seeing each other for breakfast the next morning. Trader kids never did something so plebeian as sharing a bed.
“A pity,” Amber told her. “There is a comfort in lying beside a friend.”
“I guess the only friend I’ve ever laid next to is Brashen Trell.” The remark left her mouth before she could recall it.
Amber snorted. “Well, that is one type of comfort.”
Althea fell silent for a time. She was not sure she wanted to continue that line of conversation, or suffer the brutal honesty Amber would be bound to give her.
The rain continued to come down in droves. Even far back in the shop, Althea could hear it pelting against the building. She wondered how flooded the streets would be in the morning. Not on Rain Wild Street, but on other roads home, the ground would be muddy.
With a sigh, she rolled over, thinking it’d be best to try to find some sleep before another taxing day greeted her, only to immediately realize it was a mistake. Amber’s face was turned towards hers, eyes shining yellow in the dimmed light like a cat’s. This close, their breaths intermingled. If she moved any closer there’d be no space at all between them.
Althea felt her heart race at their proximity. Beyond the several hugs they’ve shared, she could not recall being this physically near to Amber before.
“You know,” Althea stated, wetting her lips, “This is only going to exacerbate the rumors.”
“Oh?” Amber raised a brow. “Do tell me which rumors you refer to.”
Althea frowned. She knew damn well that Amber knew which ones she was referring to. Amber seemed to know all the gossip that spread through Bingtown, possibly more than anyone save Malta.
“The ones that say we’re sleeping together, of course.”
“Well we are, are we not?” Amber waggled her brows suggestively this time, a devious grin spreading across her face. She was all mischief and teasing, and as the candle on the far side of the room cast shadows on her face, Althea felt her heart catch in her throat.
She tried to ignore it, just as she tried to ignore how dry her mouth became under the intense gaze and expression of the bead-maker. She feigned nonchalance. Reaching over to playfully shove Amber's shoulder, she groaned. "Ugh. You know what I mean."
Amber laughed. It was such a warm sound, completely at odds with the damp coolness of the storm raging outside. Althea greedily wanted to hear it again and to be the cause of it. After days of seeing Amber so melancholy it was nice to see her otherwise.
Basking in that thought, Althea let her touch linger on the other woman’s shoulder. A loose strand of hair had fallen across the nightshirt Amber wore and Althea twirled the lock around one of her fingers. It was just as soft as it looked. Golden as wheat, fine as silk.
Amber grew still at the gentle touch. The smile that had graced her face slowly melted away, replaced by something pensive and searching. There was no hint of sadness but Althea could not stomach the change in demeanor. She suddenly felt as if she were being studied and sought for some words to break the growing tension.
"Do you ever seek that sort of comfort?" They were not the words she’d meant to say; she had not known they'd tumble out like that. Amber blinked, confused, then seemed to recall what she had said only a few minutes prior. Her eyes widened in surprise that Althea would return to that topic. Well. It was too late now. And Althea was interested.
Amber took a deep breath, and Althea thought she was about to lie or derail the discussion entirely, but then she answered, quietly, "Everyone seeks that sort of comfort."
"Not everyone," Althea argued. "You know all about me and the men I've slept with. I know nothing about your interests. I even know more about Jek's."
"It’s easy to know about Jek’s. She’s not particularly subtle.” As if proving her point, Amber cast her eyes to the corner of the room where Jek’s pallet had been haphazardly shoved against the wall. Even if there hadn’t been a storm, there still would’ve been a chance she would not have returned.
“That’s not the point. You’re deflecting,” Althea accused sourly. So easily Amber pulled secrets from her while she herself remained reticent. She would not let her friend off the hook so easily this time.
“I don’t see why you want to know so badly,” Amber said, and Althea had to chew on her answer. She could not be sure why herself. She just did.
“Aren’t we friends? Friends tell each other all sorts of stuff like this.” Especially so late at night when they were both tired, Althea figured. Even if she hadn’t done it as a child, she was sure this was what girls did when they shared a bed together.
“Well, then. Are you going to give me intimate details about your time with Brashen Trell?” Amber implored. If the bead-maker thought it would make Althea back down she was wrong.
“If that is what you wish,” Althea relented. Amber tsked and she tasted victory. Reluctantly, she withdrew her hand from Amber’s shoulder to tuck both underneath her head as she leaned in conspiratorially, their brows nearly touching. “Come on, tell me. What type of men do you fancy?”
“A man. There is only one man I’ve ever fancied.”
“Oh. What’s he like?”
Amber paused, as if debating on answering. Or collecting her thoughts to list them out. “Tall. Dark, of skin and hair and eyes. Masculine in every way a man can possibly be. He’s trained in both sword and axe, so he’s more brawn than thin. He smells like earth and sweat most of the time, but that is part of what makes him attractive to me.” She paused again. “And he’s kind. He is as gentle as he can be violent.”
Althea did not respond right away. She thought of the men she brought to her own bed, almost always sailors. She understood the appeal of strength in men. "You've been in Bingtown for a while now. I've never seen you with a man, so it must be long since you've last seen him. Don't you miss his comfort?"
Amber let out a soft laugh but Althea did not hear any humor in it. "He does not give me that sort of comfort. Nor he ever will. I've accepted that."
Althea was shocked to hear say so. With all the advice Amber loved to give out, Amber spoke as if she knew more about things firsthand. She cautioned, “So…you’ve never bedded anyone?”
"I did not say that."
Althea frowned, confused. "But you said–”
“I said there has only ever been one man I’ve fancied,” Amber clarified. “That does not mean I have never bedded men, though it is not something I do often. I am not the type of person to do that.”
Not the type of person to do that. Not like Althea was. Instantly, she was reminded how others saw her. Keffria. Malta. The men she had slept with. Even Amber.
Amber must have sensed the shift in her mood because before Althea could turn away dejectedly, she grabbed her wrist to stop her. “Don’t. I told you, my opinion on what you do or who you share a bed with does not matter. What is important to me is that both parties understand what the act does for the other and share those feelings honestly.”
“Which is why you think I’m leading on Brashen and Grag…” Althea muttered despondently. When Amber didn't say anything and simply looked at Althea with her lips pursed, Althea decided to go back to their discussion. "So, if there is only one man you love but he will not give you what you need, when do you choose to seek that sort of comfort?"
"Why, Althea, you're awfully insistent on digging this out of me." Amber sighed and closed her eyes. Althea could not help but notice how long her eyelashes were when she did. They were the same color as the rest of her, hardly noticeable against her skin. After another breath, Amber answered her.
“It’s the same as you,” she whispered softly. “When I have needs that go beyond ignoring, too.”
"Needs like warmth," she said, sliding her hand from Althea’s wrist to place a palm against the side of her neck. Althea shivered under her cool touch; she must have been burning in contrast to Amber. "Friendship." Amber tucked a lock of hair back behind her ear. Althea swallowed thickly, her own breath coming out a bit unsteady at the gentleness of the action. “Release.”
It took a moment for Althea to realize that Amber was listing out the same wants from one of their previous conversations about Brashen.
“No acknowledgement?” She asked.
“I do not need any acknowledgement,” Amber answered. “I know who I am. What I am.”
At that statement, Amber’s eyes grew distant once more. Althea wondered where she went when they did. The urge to make her friend laugh filled her once more. Or maybe not even to make her laugh, but to do anything that would distract and make her feel better.
Suddenly, she wanted to do something very, very stupid.
It’s just because I’m not used to sharing a bed with others, she told herself. Nothing less and nothing more. Yet she found herself reaching out, as if once the impulse set itself in her mind she could not ignore it.
The second Althea’s hand touched Amber’s cheek her eyes snapped back into focus. She looked at Althea closely, her gaze no longer far away but sharp and burning. A beat passed. Maybe two. They laid there together at a standstill. Then, there was a whirl of movement and a flash of gold and Althea abruptly found herself flat on her back with Amber perched over her. The bead-maker did not bear her weight down but had a leg tossed over each of Althea’s thighs, pressed flushed against her.
Althea looked up at her, lips parted in a surprised oh.
Her heart pounded in her chest.
“And sometimes…sometimes…” Amber trailed off, eyes focusing on Althea’s lips, pinned underneath her. “Sometimes I get lonely, too.”
Althea could have blamed what she did next on a lot of things. She could have said it was the sleep deprivation, making her delirious and impulsive. She could have chalked it off as circumstance, that she did not know how to behave otherwise this close to someone else. That she was not used to platonic intimacy. She could have faulted her lack of sternness in the face of vulnerability, because that single confession held more vulnerability than she had ever received from the bead-maker.
In the end it didn’t matter. What mattered was that it felt the right thing to do. What mattered was that when Althea reached up to cup the back of the other woman’s head, bringing her closer and holding her there, Amber reciprocated.
The first thing Althea noticed was that Amber’s lips tasted like the honey she always put in her tea. The second was that she smelled of cinnamon. Both flooded her senses as Althea eradicated any distance left between them, slotting their mouths together as she pulled Amber down to her. The silver and blue earring Amber always wore dangled against her face, faintly grazing and tickling her cheek. Amber’s long hair did the same, and Althea swept it to one side so that it wasn’t in the way. Like this, it was easier to kiss her unrestrained.
Althea quickly realized that kissing Amber was slightly different than kissing anyone else she had before, namely men. For one, there was no scruff of beard scratching her skin where her and Amber’s faces were pressed together. Even devoid of cosmetics, there were traces of her that were purely feminine. Althea recognized the scent of the rose-oil Amber often put in her hair, faint but distinct from the lingering fragrance of perfume she sprayed on her body every day. Kissing Amber was…soft in a way she couldn’t otherwise describe, as if beforehand those who kissed her did so with the intent of exhibiting strength and urgency. Althea was aware that perhaps not all men kissed in that manner but the difference was somewhat staggering.
However, urgency did find its way between them. It was, surprisingly, Amber who deepened their kiss. At the press of her tongue, Althea opened her mouth with no hesitancy. She allowed Amber to take control for a moment, letting her run her tongue along Althea’s bottom lip before sliding theirs together. Althea met her with as much gravity.
Her hands ran over Amber as if she were committing the other’s body to memory. She touched Amber’s jaw, her cheek, slid her thumb along a collarbone—anywhere she could reach Althea sought to caress. At the same time, Amber’s hands began roaming, too, settling on Althea’s face and tilting it every which way she preferred, mostly seeking a better angle for their kiss.
There was only so much Althea could take of this before she craved for something more. She shifted underneath Amber as she started to feel wetness pool between her thighs. In desperation, she clenched them together, groaning at the neediness she felt and her body’s response to it when Amber’s lips lifted from hers just to brush against her neck.
Despite how enthusiastically Amber was putting her lips on Althea, Amber was still irritatingly holding her body at a distance and Althea longed to break it. She wanted Amber to press down, to feel every line of her against her own skin, but when she moved to grab the edge of Amber’s nightshirt, gripping the fabric and tugging it up, a firm hand wrapped around her wrist to stop her.
“Don’t,” Amber said, stern but quiet.
“Why not?” Althea frowned, confused but withdrawing nevertheless. To her despair, Amber pulled away further. However, it was a sight for sore eyes. Amber’s hair was disheveled, sticking up in several places and partially falling into her face. Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath; she had hardly stopped kissing Althea long enough to get any air. And most pleasingly, her lips and face were both flushed, tinged a beautiful shade that was all Althea’s doing.
Althea’s hands twitched at her sides as she let Amber collect herself.
“I…” Amber started, then took another breath. She cast Althea a look she couldn't read. “I cannot give that part of myself to you.”
“Oh,” Althea said, somewhat dumbly, but what else was she supposed to say? “That’s fine.”
They could go to sleep and pretend this never happened. Althea was quite good at that. Well, not really, but she would try anyway. She tried to turn from Amber, then realized that Amber was on top of her so she couldn’t go anywhere. She tapped her friend’s thighs, but even that seemed too intimate, so she retracted her hands quickly and said, “I cannot stop touching you with you straddling me like this.”
“I did not say I did not want you.” And just like that, Althea’s interest was driven in again. Amber peered down at her. Even if unreadable, something in her gaze had Althea immediately relaxing back into the mattress again.
“Just keep your hands to yourself, if you will.”
Then, she was on Althea like the exchange never happened.
The collar of Althea’s nightdress was held together with a tiny, white lace bow. Amber made deft work of it, untying it quickly and easily, and then Althea’s chest was left bare as the fabric fell from her shoulders and collarbone.
“That’s better,” Amber declared. Strangely, at the reverence in her tone Althea still felt choked.
Althea mostly kept her word. Mostly, because Althea did not try to undress Amber again and mostly because at the first feeling of Amber’s lips on her chest her hands flew to the closest place they could find purchase. Althea clung to the bead-maker tightly, digging her fingers into the other woman’s forearms to tether her there. She felt as if she were fighting to stay afloat at sea, her head swimming and lungs devoid of air. Amber’s tongue swirled around one of her nipples and she gasped. Unlike the prickling sensation that came along with Amber’s frigid touch, Amber’s mouth was all warmth and wetness. It was overwhelming but only in a way that had Althea automatically leaning into it. Her back arched up. The bottoms of her feet dug into the bedding, becoming another anchor.
“Amb–” The name came out strangled as teeth grazed her. Not painfully, but with enough pressure that Althea felt it in the whole of her body. She pressed her thighs together in reflex again, then winced. She could not remember when she had last been this aroused.
Amber repeated her ministrations on the other side. As she did so, her right hand came up to pinch the nipple that was not in her mouth. Althea keened and then Amber’s name did fall from her breathlessly. She felt Amber smile against her breast right before she took it back in her mouth and this time she did more than just pinch and graze.
After what seemed like a lifetime, or much too soon—for Althea would not have complained if Amber decided to put her attention there all night—Amber pulled her mouth away, leaving her chest heaving and breasts slightly damp with saliva. The cool air was a shock to her system and Althea shivered unwillingly, but Amber did not give her any time to mourn the loss of her mouth. Before Althea could protest, Amber’s lips had already begun ghosting down her sternum.
“I’ve never been with a woman like this before. I’ve always been curious about this particular act, though,” Amber commented wistfully, lips briefly parting from her to speak. Althea could only ponder on that for a moment though because then in one fluid motion Amber’s hands reached underneath the nightdress to pull down her undergarments, hike the gown up to her waist, and set her mouth between her legs and then Althea’s mind went blank entirely.
The press of Amber’s tongue against her core was even better than how it felt on her chest. For a woman who claimed to have never done the act before, Amber did not behave the slightest bit hesitant or unconfident. She licked a long stripe against Althea’s cunt, the tip of her tongue dipping into her before settling on her clit. Althea jolted as wet heat engulfed the most sensitive part of her body and, also losing herself in experiencing this particular action for the first time as well, she bucked into Amber’s mouth without thinking. When she realized what she did she stilled immediately. Face aflame and discomfited, she forced herself to sink back against the bed.
Amber was having none of it. Completely ignoring Althea's mortification, she tilted her head to the side and, cheek coming to rest on Althea's thigh, she encouraged the other. "It's okay. I do not mind."
Something in her tone made Althea look down to meet her gaze. The sight that greeted her was a wonder. Amber peered up at her with golden eyes darkened to a hue almost deep brown, pupils blown wide and eyelashes fluttering. Her bottom lip glistened in the candlelight, wet with spit and Althea’s arousal.
“In fact, don’t hold back,” Amber went on as she skimmed her fingers along the inside of Althea’s thighs. “I want to hear every noise I can wring from you. I want to feel every reaction in your body as I bring you pleasure. I want to see how good I make you feel.”
“I did not take you to be such a vain woman,” Althea grumbled but any bite in it fell short as one of Amber’s roaming fingers found its mark and slipped into her with ease.
“Perhaps I harbor some vanity,” Amber admitted. “Or perhaps I simply know how talented I am with my hands.”
And talent she had. Althea tried to stifle a noise in the back of her throat, not yet wanting to give her friend the satisfaction of a job well done, as Amber pushed her finger deeper inside her. Amber’s fingers were thinner than any man’s who had touched her but what she lacked in width was easily made up for in length and dexterity. Amber wasted no time showing her this. She slid a second finger into Althea soon after the first, then began pumping them both in and out almost languidly. They felt cool inside her, far too cool than what was normal for any person, but it did not take long for them to warm.
"That's good," Amber crooned when Althea shifted her hips, trying to match the pace of her fingers. “This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it. You don’t need a man to give you these things. I will do just fine.”
“You’re awfully talkative during sex,” Althea huffed. If she hadn’t known any better, she would have thought Amber sounded jealous. Possessive, even.
Now that was a notion.
“Does it displease you? Do your typical lovers merely grunt like animals before they finish?” Amber asked, already knowing the answer. Yes, thought Althea bitterly. Or most of them. But instead of replying, Althea set a hand on Amber’s head and guided it back down. She went placidly.
If the feeling of Amber’s tongue on her felt good before, it was almost too much to bear with the sensation of her fingers in her as well. The pleasure felt twice as intense. Each thrust of skilled fingers worked in tandem with her tongue and it didn’t take long before Althea recognized the familiar building pressure in her abdomen.
“Amber.” Her fingers dug into the bead-maker’s golden hair, although it was hard to say if it was to push the woman away or keep her there. She felt as if she were reaching her peak much too soon, nearly embarrassingly so, and she wasn’t ready for this to be over. She tried to stave it off, as if sheer will could keep her on the precipice, but then Amber did something Althea rarely did even when pleasuring herself and slipped in a third finger.
Althea could not stop it. Her orgasm hit her at full-force. She cried out as she crested, not expecting the strength of it. Nor did she expect Amber to choose that precise moment to switch from her measured licks to gently suck on her clit instead.
Then it was too much to bear. Distantly, she registered Amber’s gloved hand coming to rest on her hipbone to hold her still as her body trembled with pleasure. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was also aware that Amber was purposely drawing her climax out, relentless in her attention. It wasn’t until Althea was writhing beneath her from the aftershocks of her orgasm when Amber finally retracted her mouth.
Giving her that bit of space, Althea thought she’d pull away entirely, but for the nth time that night Amber surprised her by doing the opposite. On the contrary, Amber did not move far from her at all. She did not even withdraw the fingers of her ungloved hand.
Althea made a tiny sound of objection as Amber sat up a bit and took one of her ankles into her grip. Carefully, she drew Althea’s leg up, until the crook of her knee rested across a shoulder. Years of climbing the rigging of the Vivacia had given Althea some athleticism, but it was still a stretch, and the quaking of her leg made her inflexibility more apparent. Amber regarded her too highly if she thought she could hold this position for long.
But Amber paid no mind to that. She stared down at Althea with burning intensity and Althea recognized the look for what it was: hunger. Hunger so heady that it nearly left Althea shaken. In that moment, it was like Amber knew her deepest desires and mirrored them. Then, as if Althea weren’t still catching her breath and horribly sensitive, Amber began moving her fingers again.
“Another,” she pressed, voice edged and lower than its usual cadence. “Give me another.”
“I can’t,” Althea gasped, though she made no move to stop the other. She tossed her head back against the pillow on Amber’s bed, dark hair fanning across it. Soft punched-out noises rang out into the room and it took Althea a while to realize they were coming from her, each thrust of Amber’s fingers dragging them out as they pressed inside her. She bit her lip to try to stifle them with enough force that her teeth came close to chafing the skin there raw.
“You can,” Amber insisted. “And you will.” She spoke confidently, like she knew all of Althea’s limits. And maybe she did. Maybe, without even telling, Amber knew she was insatiable.
It was difficult to believe that a woman who spoke about sex as a commitment and swore there was only one man truly for her could also take apart Althea so intimately. Every touch she bestowed upon Althea became a piece of her undone. There was an understanding of her body, both inside and out, and Althea felt herself unraveling almost completely with how easy it was to feel good with Amber. Almost. Just about.
‘Relax,” Amber bid her, leaning forward the slightest bit. The angle still stretched Althea’s leg but differently, pushing her thighs further apart and allowing Amber better range. Instead of simply positioning her fingers in and out again, she adjusted the angle of her hand and curled them upwards inside Althea. Althea didn’t exactly whimper when she did, but it was close to it.
Amber’s other hand came up to trace the side of her face. She ran her knuckles across Althea’s cheeks, then tucked back an errant strand of hair that had matted itself to her forehead with sweat. Gently, so gently, she trailed her hand back down Althea’s body. It ghosted over her neck, then her breast, stopping to lightly pinch a nipple, and then she splayed her fingers across Althea’s stomach. For some reason, the glove against her bare skin felt even more erotic. Deliriously, Althea wanted to ask Amber to put that one inside her.
That thought never made it out of her mouth. As soon as Althea opened her lips, Amber applied more force with her fingers and a moan slipped out instead. Amber’s mouth quirked upwards like she had Althea exactly where and how she wanted her to be, a writhing mess thrashing beneath her. All the while, Althea felt herself inevitably edging closer. But the pressure felt different. Deeper within her, like she had to hold onto it. Amber kept focusing on the same spot, rubbing against it rhythmically and relentlessly. Her voice became a torrent of words of encouragement mixed with reminders that she needed to be at ease.
“Amber. I feel–” She didn’t know how she felt. Still, she tried to warn Amber.
Amber shushed her, not unkindly, but as someone older and far more wise trying to coax a youngster to calm down. “You’re feeling how you’re supposed to feel. Let yourself feel it.”
The pressure became more urgent. Althea began to feel warm all over, then hot. It made her squirm, but instead of Amber holding her down by her hip to still her again, she trailed her fingers on Althea’s stomach lower until she was pushing down on her abdomen. It was a different kind of inescapable. The feeling built and built and built and Amber held her there until eventually, the feeling overtook her and she was forced to let go.
It was unlike any other orgasm she’d had before. Not vastly different, but more like a slow release than a sudden snap. Her body still shook around Amber, she still instinctively grabbed hold of the bead-maker’s wrist, but the usual sensation was replaced with…well, wetness.
She was really, really wet. Far more than she normally was after coming.
The bedsheets underneath her were soaked. The inside of her thighs felt slippery. Amber pulled her fingers out of Althea leisurely, letting the digits slide through her dripping cunt before slipping them in again. Althea twitched, but had no energy left to do anything other than let her head fall back and eyes shut closed as a dozen different sensations washed over her. She had never done that before, either.
Still, she was more than okay with letting Amber have her way again.
She let Amber wring a third orgasm out of her. This time, she gave Amber all the tiny little noises the bead-maker wanted to hear from her without attempting to hold any back. When she felt Amber lean down and put her mouth on her again she carded her fingers through Amber’s hair and pulled and relished the sound Amber made at the action, followed by what she was very sure was a thrust of hips against the mattress.
It was not an earth-shattering, overpowering ordeal like the first two, but just as pleasant and feel-good. It did not take long, either, with how every nerve in her body was heightened and oversensitive from before. When she came, it was subtle and subdued and Amber let her finish with a small kiss to her pelvic bone.
Althea only became aware of any soreness when Amber finally pulled away completely. As expected, she felt a cramp in her leg and she groaned as she removed it from where it was still thrown over Amber’s shoulder. She blinked her eyes open as Amber caught it in her hands and was gratified to see that Amber had the decency to at least look a little guilty, though as Amber took her calf and started massaging it she looked more pleased with herself than anything else. Like the cat that got the cream.
Like Althea had just handed her a present.
And Althea felt very much the same, though she wouldn’t admit it aloud. She was satiated, and the sleepiness that washed over her was not the byproduct of stress and nightmares, but from being thoroughly satisfied and brought to completion multiple times. She felt so drained that her eyes started to drift shut once more, but as she burrowed into the blankets she became too conscious of how the sheets felt where she laid. She shifted and the feeling was even more uncomfortable and apparent.
“I ruined your bedding.” Althea cringed as her thigh brushed against the large wet stain on the bed.
“I’d hardly call that ruining my bedding,” Amber replied, and her voice was light. Exultant. “But I will definitely have to replace the linens before Jek comes back to reclaim my place.”
Althea wasn’t sure if she was more horrified or entertained picturing that. Then, she realized just how much of a gamble they had made assuming the other woman wasn’t planning on returning that night. Oblivious to Althea’s musings, Amber went on, “Though, there’s a chance that she’d just be jealous or ask to join us. She found Athel very fetching, if you recall.”
“Oh, hush,” Althea chided. She did not know what to make of that.
Amber did not say anything but fidgeted in the bed beside her and belatedly, Althea realized her friend’s problem. Just as she felt Amber was about to get up, to get new linens or something else, Althea reached over and gripped the corner of her sleeve. Amber froze. She ignored that. Fighting the exhaustion, Althea forced herself to sit up, resting her weight on her elbows.
“What you just did to me. I want to do it to you.” She enunciated each word, making sure Amber understood her.
Amber was silent for a moment. “Ah. Don’t worry about that. I fared well enough just by giving.”
Althea tried hard not to frown. For all her insecurities, she never had a problem bringing men into her bed, even if they were not the type of men she as a Trader was supposed to be with. And Amber had given her plenty of reason to believe she found her attractive. She did not understand the bead-maker’s reticence.
It was like the glove. Amber hid a part of herself from everyone for reasons she refused to divulge. Whether it was self-consciousness or a hidden secret or something else entirely, she would not let herself be bare. Shrugging out of Althea’s grip, she tucked the covers all the way up to her chip and curled into herself underneath them, turning away from Althea.
“I want to touch you,” Althea confessed. The words rang true, though it only occurred to her just how badly she wanted to reciprocate Amber’s attentions once she said them. In a way, it was her own admission, her own way of laying bare. Malta had accused her of being odd; maybe she was. Maybe in addition to not wanting to settle down and get married, she liked women. Or at least one specific woman.
And Amber needed this, too, she knew. While perhaps she found satisfaction in making Althea come undone, Althea knew the loneliness Amber spoke about. She wanted Amber to know that she, too, was wanted.
But she wouldn’t push the other woman. She chewed on an idea, then.
“If you will not let me touch you,” Althea suggested carefully, “then at least let me assist you in some other way. I will not tolerate being the only one left satisfied.”
She watched more than heard Amber suck in a deep breath. The blanket she hid beneath rose with her sharp intake of air. Slowly, so that the other woman could sense the movement, Althea set a hand to Amber’s back. She could feel the tension pouring off the other woman’s body in waves. The shoulder-blades underneath her palm were strained and rigid.
“Let go,” she said, rubbing her hand up and down in what she hoped to be a soothing manner. “Even if it’s just for tonight, let go of whatever plagues you now.”
It took some time but gradually Althea felt Amber relax. She did not pressure or rush the bead-maker but simply waited, hoping she’d take something for herself. Little by little, the muscles underneath her hand became slack and Amber pressed back into her palm.
There was the rustling of clothing, then an exhale and Althea could only imagine what she was doing.
Amber moved with hesitancy, like she was still unsure if this was something she wanted to do in the company of another, but ultimately Althea knew when she decided that it was safe to touch herself. She felt Amber’s arm move beneath the covers, sensed the rhythmic motions of a hand that knew exactly where to fall and how fast. After a time, noises of pleasure began to fall from Amber’s lips, too.
Althea wanted so ardently to replace Amber’s own hand with hers. She wanted to see which sounds she could pull out of the other, feel the wetness between her legs and make her cry out in ecstasy. She suddenly understood with perfect clarity why Amber had told her to hold nothing back. If she could garner those reactions, she’d want each and every one of them to keep and store in her memory for the remainder of her life as well.
True to her word entirely this time, Althea’s hands didn’t stray past Amber’s back. They wandered in that small space, tracing patterns into the fabric of her nightshirt and nails raking down the spine. Daringly, she let her fingertips touch the hem of Amber’s shirt, then risked touching the bare skin underneath it. Amber jerked when she did so but quickly eased back against her. It was enough, Althea thought, to have her like this.
She wondered what else would make it better and recalled what words Amber gave her in the throes of pleasure. She wasn’t good at giving praise. It felt stilted. Neither was she eloquent in bed. Still, she tried and surely that counted for something.
“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered and marveled at the way the compliment made Amber shudder. Gently, she placed a kiss into the crook of her neck, and when Amber tilted her head to give her more room she did it again.
“Althea.”
It was a plea and a moan wrapped up into one and it did something to Althea. Suddenly, she found her tongue.
Afterwards, she could barely recall all that she said. Something along the lines of you’re doing so well and I love seeing you touch yourself for me. She remembers the tiny hitch in Amber’s breath when her teeth scraped the outer shell of her ear, right above her earring. She took every reaction to catalogue and tucked them away for safekeeping, something to come back to on a different night when she was by herself. All the while Althea hoped desperately that there’d be another chance. That maybe one day Amber would be comfortable enough to bare herself to her. It was an unrealistic wish, yet she wished it so fiercely. Though she knew that by tomorrow they’d both go on to live their respective lives and yearn for things, and men, neither of them could have.
Bitterly, she sucked a small bruise into the pulse point of Amber’s neck, then mouthed the words into the nape of it.
“Whoever has your heart,” she told Amber, “better be worthy of such a woman.”
No sooner than she said the words she felt Amber reach completion. Amber went still against her, then seized up and contracted. The movement of her hand beneath the covers became jerky as she rode out the final seconds of her orgasm. Althea held onto her the entire time through it, pressing sloppy kisses into the bead-maker’s skin wherever she could reach. “Oh, Amber,” she exhaled as Amber’s body gave a final twitch before sinking into the mattress.
They both laid there for a while, the sounds of their breathing in tune with the rain that still poured down outside the building. Althea dreaded Amber getting up but getting up she did inevitably. Amber slipped out of the bed quietly, still keeping her back to Althea as she flitted about the room to gather things.
Althea thinks she drifted in and out of sleep while waiting on the other to bring them clean garments and linens. Her eyes slid shut as she inhaled into the pillow under her head—Amber’s pillow—and took in the scent there. The room smelled like sex and sweat and the humid air brought from the storm but traces of rose and cinnamon could still be found on the pillow. It was comforting.
Althea was also vaguely aware of Amber going elsewhere to change into new nightclothes. She thinks she briefly fell asleep again but awoke when Amber came back with a bowl of warm water and a small rag.
“I’m sorry if it isn’t hot enough to your liking. I didn’t want you to have to wait any longer,” Amber apologized as she sat back down on the bed beside Althea. Althea hummed tiredly, then used the sleepiness as an excuse to move closer to Amber, setting her head on one of Amber’s thighs and watching the bead-maker dip the rag into the water.
Amber clicked her tongue but allowed the small moment of affection. It was hardly more intimate than Amber taking the rag and reaching over to wipe off the dried come on Althea’s legs, though. It was difficult to focus on anything else.
Amber worked meticulously, dipping the rag into the water and wringing it out periodically. She cleaned Althea up with care and precision that was almost too much to handle, her hands attentive and gentle as if she were doing a task that was precious. She beckoned Althea to sit up so that the wrinkled, half-disrobed nightgown that pretty much only covered her stomach could come off entirely. When she was finished she set it alongside the rag and bowl on the nightstand by the bed.
“You’ll need to take a bath before you leave but that can wait until the morning, of course,” she told Althea. Althea hummed an acknowledgement, then realized something.
“You didn’t find me anything else to wear?” She asked, pointedly staring at the new clothes Amber donned.
“Hm? No. I could if you wish. Though I quite like you like this.” Demonstrating just exactly how much she meant the words, Amber ran a hand over Althea’s breast. Althea shivered, then smacked the hand away, though it was hard to keep any solemnity in her reprimand. “And here I thought I was insatiable.”
“As a matter of fact, I believe we are equally voracious.” Amber grinned.
After helping Amber change the bedding, they both settled down to actually sleep. It felt different this time, as if they breached a part of their relationship that had been previously locked up and ignored. Althea’s heart thudded in her chest as she leaned over to set her head against Amber’s shoulder, but now for a different reason.
“Is this going to change our friendship at all?” She asked with some trepidation. It occurred to her then that this wasn’t going to be like any of her previous experiences. While Amber had not always been a part of her life—not like Brashen—she was still someone equally important to her. On top of that, Amber was a woman. If any tension formed between them others would assume they had some sort of disagreement. They did tend to have those from time to time, especially when it pertained to Trader family secrets.
“Of course it will,” Amber replied brusquely, like a hammer on a nail. Althea inwardly flinched. But before the sinking feeling within her could grow or she could berate herself, Amber added, “But not in the way you think it will. No, you will wake up tomorrow, dress yourself, and head home to consider the affections of Brashen Trell and Grag Tenira. You will continue to tragedize what your family and society expects of you while struggling to reconcile who you truly are and what you most desire.”
“And you?” Althea asked quietly after a moment.
“What about me?” Amber played dumb.
“What will you do?” Althea pressed on. Unthinkingly, she found herself reaching beneath the covers and twining their fingers together. Amber’s glove was soft and almost warm against her palm.
“I will continue to try to find the meaning of the serpents and the dragons,” Amber said simply, then squeezed their conjoined hands. Althea considered not asking her next question but pushed herself to ask anyway.
“And then what? Will you go back home to the man you love?”
Amber was silent for a time. “Eventually. One day. When the time is right.”
Althea had nothing to say to that. Amber continued. “And when the time is right you will choose what sort of path you want to take and with whom. You will have to decide what is worth sacrificing for. Fate does not allow you to wait forever, Althea.”
Gently, as if the action would break something delicate, Amber retracted her hand from Althea’s. With a pang, Althea took the hint and lifted her head from the bead-maker’s shoulder. The room suddenly felt colder despite Amber not giving off any warmth herself.
She wondered if she had actually succeeded in making Amber feel better or if she made things worse.
But then Amber turned her head and looked at Althea and there was only kindness and appreciation in her gaze. Kindness she felt as Amber bowed her head to press their lips together again. This kiss was soft. Chaste. But Amber graciously did not rush to end it. Althea wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, trading kisses that could not be described as anything but tender. When Amber pulled away, her gaze remained the same.
“Thank you, Althea,” she said with full sincerity. Then, she pulled up the covers and rolled onto her side, facing away from Althea, promptly rebuilding the distance that was set between them before. Which was fine. It was necessary. Afterall, neither of them could go any deeper with their relationship. They both had different roles to fill. It was just odd, that’s all, that Althea, who swore she only bedded out of desire and need, felt torn apart about it.
That didn’t have to mean anything.
Outside, the rain started to let up. Althea finally slept.