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I feared her, yet I never forgot her face. It had burned itself into my mind, and though I stopped entertaining the memory in time, even convinced
“I would swear before the priest that I saw you . . .” Hesitation rose in my throat, but I fought the innate fear of her judgement and spat the words. “. . . in a dream.”
“In lieu of a suitor, I shall love you instead,” she said, and I heard amusement on her tongue. She kissed me at the side of my lips; oh, how the gesture confused me.
Our bodies touched, though my skirts and corset prevented me from feeling her. A terrible cage, keeping us apart— By God—that was dangerous thinking. I might’ve stumbled back for shock, but Carmilla held me gently enthralled. “You are perfect, my darling. You’re perfect, and you are mine. I could never think less of you.”
“My darling, history tells of centuries of women loving women in all manner of beautiful ways. With their hands, with their tongues—no man can know a woman as another woman can.
