Description
A movement from behind drew her from her reverie, and she turned around. The shape hidden under the covers on the bed stirred again, and Elena started to feel aroused as she remembered their passionate liaison of the previous night. She now stepped back into the room and padded to the bed, slipping under the covers to curl up next to her lover. She moaned pleasurably as a hand caressed her inner thigh, and fingers entwined the curls of her private place. She let out a short gasp as two of those fingers entered her. Her own hands traveled along the body next to her, their lips locking in a passionate embrace. Tongues battling for dominance until Elena could bear it no longer, and she rolled to sit astride her lover. She gazed into the dark brown, almost black eyes that were staring back at her. A smile appeared on her lips as hands now cupped her breasts, thumbs stroking her erect nipples.
“I have to go before we are discovered,” Dorotea whispered reluctantly.
Elena leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Don’t go just yet,” she pleaded.
“I must. My brother’s room is only a few doors away, he must not know we have been together,” Dorotea said urgently, sitting up and swinging her long legs onto the floor.
“My dearest, we have been doing this for several weeks, and so far, Alfonso is none the wiser of it,” Elena said reassuringly. “Besides, did you not tell me you were adopted into the family, so I don’t understand your concern.”
“That has nothing to do with it. I assure you I don’t want to leave, but I must.” Dorotea picked up her clothes and began to dress quickly.
“Will you come to me tonight?”
“If I can … yes, I will.”
Dorotea eased the door to the bedchamber open and peeked out to make sure there was nobody about. With no one in sight, she turned and kissed Elena, and then hurried away in the direction of her own room.
Elena watched her stop and look back. She blew her a kiss and then closed the door as Dorotea vanished into her own bedchamber. Elena padded back to her bed and slid under the covers, and began to think on how complicated her family was. She had been led to believe that Alfonso and Dorotea had been twins, but not so. Dorotea’s real mother was one of the servants who died in childbirth. When the family’s housekeeper relayed the details to Don Juan de Borja, like his father before him, he felt a strong responsibility to those who served the family. In the same way as he had provided an education to Margherita Vincente, the then wine master’s daughter, he somehow felt compelled to ensure Dorotea’s success in life and adopted the baby girl. The child’s father did not object. And as Doña Ermelinda de Borja had just given birth to a boy the wet nurse was led to believe they were twins. It was an untruth that was conveniently ignored.
