the brush of warm lips against her nape. ‘So very many things, and yet there’ve been long passages of time in which my consciousness has had no place to anchor. Oh, Jill, it’s such an empty space, eternity, when there’s no flesh in which to express consciousness.’ Eleanor snuggled still closer and a hand that wasn’t physically there moved down to rest against Jill’s pubis. She quivered at the touch.
Eleanor continued. ‘But you, my darling, have flesh, lovely, voluptuous, delicious flesh. And yet with it you’ve experienced so little. You fear the lust that partners flesh, what it longs for, what it’s capable of, what boundaries it may move beyond. I feel the ache in you, the need. I felt it before I took you. That ache to experience what you’ve not been brave enough to allow is what drew me to you, what I felt when you stumbled into Finn’s shop. You were like light shining into darkness. I could see nothing else. I wanted nothing else. But you.’
The embrace tightened and Jill found herself writhing against the mattress, grinding her bottom back against the demon femininity pressed next to her. It was then that she realised the hand she felt between her legs was not the imagined one but her own, fingers circling her clit and dipping in between the swell of her, still wet from the evening’s heat, still vibrant with the scent of Finn. And for a second she resented him washing the olfactory evidence of their lovemaking down the drain, covering himself in the unnatural scent of soap and deodorant, when she wanted him to smell of her, when she wanted him to smell of them, super-heated and driven, in the throes of a hard animal fuck. She inhaled deeply the smell of him on her body, inside her body, and contemplated the way her scent wrapped around it, mixed through it, enhanced it, made it smell like it belonged there, closer to her than any other scent that wasn’t her own. The imagined arms tightened around her and another warm kiss brushed her nape, feeling as real as anything she had ever felt. The circle and thrust, circle and thrust of her fingers intensified. She felt desperate for the release that was demanded by thoughts of the man now naked in her shower and by the fondling and cuddling of the demon woman whose caress, non-corporeal or not, felt urgent, insistent, needy.
‘What do
you
want, Jill Hart? You can have it, you know. You’re not Finn’s prisoner. As long as I’m inside you, you’ll never be anyone’s prisoner. If you don’t want to sleep, you don’t have to.’ She laughed softly. ‘I’m not as stupid as Finn thinks. I know exactly what your body’s capable of and what would most pleasure it, both things you would like very much to know. Isn’t that so?’
Jill nodded her response into the darkness. Then the voice felt closer still. ‘Get dressed, Jill. We’re going out.’
‘But what about Finn?’
‘Nobody knows Finn better than I do, sweetie,’ the voice came again. ‘Trust me, I know how to give him the slip. In fact I know how to give him something even better than the slip.’ She tsk-tsked. ‘Of course I’m not going to hurt him, you silly goose. I would never hurt our Finn. I’ll just give him a little something to think about. Go on now, get dressed. That’s a good girl.’
* * *
Thirty minutes later they were dancing in Juno. Jill was wearing the skirt she’d borrowed from Vivie, a black vest that showed plenty of cleavage, and the fabulous boots. Her hair was down and the make-up was minimal. Clearly not from the same school of fashion as Vivie, Eleanor had assured her that, in her case, less was more.
Jill was dancing, something she would never have been brave enough to do without Vivie there to egg her on. Vivie, Eleanor, what was the difference, she wondered. She still wasn’t brave enough to strike out on her own. ‘Neither is Vivie,’ Eleanor whispered. ‘That’s why she drags you along.’
And, in truth, this time was considerably
Eleanor continued. ‘But you, my darling, have flesh, lovely, voluptuous, delicious flesh. And yet with it you’ve experienced so little. You fear the lust that partners flesh, what it longs for, what it’s capable of, what boundaries it may move beyond. I feel the ache in you, the need. I felt it before I took you. That ache to experience what you’ve not been brave enough to allow is what drew me to you, what I felt when you stumbled into Finn’s shop. You were like light shining into darkness. I could see nothing else. I wanted nothing else. But you.’
The embrace tightened and Jill found herself writhing against the mattress, grinding her bottom back against the demon femininity pressed next to her. It was then that she realised the hand she felt between her legs was not the imagined one but her own, fingers circling her clit and dipping in between the swell of her, still wet from the evening’s heat, still vibrant with the scent of Finn. And for a second she resented him washing the olfactory evidence of their lovemaking down the drain, covering himself in the unnatural scent of soap and deodorant, when she wanted him to smell of her, when she wanted him to smell of them, super-heated and driven, in the throes of a hard animal fuck. She inhaled deeply the smell of him on her body, inside her body, and contemplated the way her scent wrapped around it, mixed through it, enhanced it, made it smell like it belonged there, closer to her than any other scent that wasn’t her own. The imagined arms tightened around her and another warm kiss brushed her nape, feeling as real as anything she had ever felt. The circle and thrust, circle and thrust of her fingers intensified. She felt desperate for the release that was demanded by thoughts of the man now naked in her shower and by the fondling and cuddling of the demon woman whose caress, non-corporeal or not, felt urgent, insistent, needy.
‘What do
you
want, Jill Hart? You can have it, you know. You’re not Finn’s prisoner. As long as I’m inside you, you’ll never be anyone’s prisoner. If you don’t want to sleep, you don’t have to.’ She laughed softly. ‘I’m not as stupid as Finn thinks. I know exactly what your body’s capable of and what would most pleasure it, both things you would like very much to know. Isn’t that so?’
Jill nodded her response into the darkness. Then the voice felt closer still. ‘Get dressed, Jill. We’re going out.’
‘But what about Finn?’
‘Nobody knows Finn better than I do, sweetie,’ the voice came again. ‘Trust me, I know how to give him the slip. In fact I know how to give him something even better than the slip.’ She tsk-tsked. ‘Of course I’m not going to hurt him, you silly goose. I would never hurt our Finn. I’ll just give him a little something to think about. Go on now, get dressed. That’s a good girl.’
* * *
Thirty minutes later they were dancing in Juno. Jill was wearing the skirt she’d borrowed from Vivie, a black vest that showed plenty of cleavage, and the fabulous boots. Her hair was down and the make-up was minimal. Clearly not from the same school of fashion as Vivie, Eleanor had assured her that, in her case, less was more.
Jill was dancing, something she would never have been brave enough to do without Vivie there to egg her on. Vivie, Eleanor, what was the difference, she wondered. She still wasn’t brave enough to strike out on her own. ‘Neither is Vivie,’ Eleanor whispered. ‘That’s why she drags you along.’
And, in truth, this time was considerably
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