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The long span of her future stretched out toward the horizon, a flat opaque nothingness as terrible as any sea.
You could take a robin, put it in a cage, and carry it with you around the world—but if you never opened the cage door, how much of a difference would you have made to the robin’s life? All it would know was the view through the bars.
“They don’t let you have anything whole, you know. If you don’t follow the pattern. You have to find your happiness in bits and pieces instead. But it can still add up to something beautiful.”
“I don’t think love works like that. You might as well ask the earth whether the sun or the moon is more important.” She blushed a little pinker and raised her eyes, star-bright. “You can’t always judge by what came before. Sometimes, there is a revolution.”
Just a simple brush of one mouth against another, but it sent heat and light and stars through every inch of Lucy’s frame.
The afternoon’s tender delicacy was gone, replaced by a kiss that tasted lush as wine and scorched like fire. Catherine drank pleasure from Lucy’s ready mouth, the girl’s encouraging gasps firing her newly bold impulses.
It was—it was like every touch of Lucy’s hand was a silken thread, painting a sunrise one skein of warm light at a time.
Lucy dove at her, her tall, slim body slamming into Catherine’s sturdier form, while her mouth opened desperately against the countess’s lips. It was a hard, harsh kiss, born of fear and flame, and it seared into ash everything that had come between them.
Everything was limbs and quickening breath and the tangle of fabric, too much to strip easily in their haste.
“Tell me what you need,” she demanded. “Anything. All of me. It’s yours for the asking.”
But tomorrow morning was an age away. Tonight there was only the woman above and the woman below, setting one another aflame.
Our energies are better spent if we work together than if we struggle separately—men and women of every nation and of every race.”
