Kitty Comes Up (A Serving-girl's Diary, #3) / A Serving-girl's Diary (ePub)

Kitty is working her way up to the top of Waughton House, one encounter at a time. She desperately wishes to become the personal attendant to Lord Neville, and to do that she needs the help of the manor's heiress.

By servicing Mr Dexter, the randy butler, Kitty has received a priceless promotion as handmiaden to Lady Edna, sister of Lord Neville. However, Lady Edna knows the lengths Kitty is willing to go to, and she intends to have her way with the upstart maid.

Note: This is a sexy historical tale of debauchery and desire, and is Part 3 in a series. Intended for 18+ audiences only.

Excerpt:

I stood shivering in her shift, beside the bed, wondering what to do next. Ought I just to climb in, uninvited? Or had I already been invited? "I'm ready, ma'am," I said softly.

Lady Victoria rolled over, a welcoming smile on her face. "Are you truly? Come closer. Lie beside me," she said, and pulled back the counterpane for me to slip underneath.

The bed was soft and warm, and heavy with the perfume of her Ladyship's hair and skin; I almost fell into bed, feeling as though I were slipping into warm, comforting bathwater. And like the waters of a bath, Lady Victoria surrounded me, encircled me, her arm around my middle and her body pressed close to my back, from her chin against my neck to her belly against my arse, and her thighs to the back of my legs. "There, now," she whispered tenderly in my ear, "this is so much better, don't you think?"

"It's lovely, ma'am," I replied.

"Come closer then," she murmured. "I want to feel your warmth."

I had not have expected this proximity to the Lady to feel quite so lovely. Lady Edna's skin was smooth and cool as alabaster, and sent a vivid little thrill through my bare legs as well. The bedcovers themselves were invitingly warm, and the heavy fabric of the covers embraced me almost as tightly as the woman who held me.

"You are so warm," the Lady said, her voice trailing away dreamily.

She fell silent for a while, and her breathing was deep and even; I thought at first that she had fallen asleep in the comfortable womb of the bed. But her hand moved, so slowly and gently that I didn't notice it at first, just felt the effect, a pleasant tingle of sensation running up and down my skin.

For her hand, which had been resting against me in her close embrace, was now brushing up and down my body. It stopped its progress upwards just at the top of my belly, immediately below my bosom; its downward path went nearly to the hem of my chemise before it stopped.

Soon, though, the touch of her hand had pulled the silky fabric higher, and her soft skin was making tender contact with my belly and even - just slightly - brushing against my thighs...