Chapter Five

Samantha’s back presses deeper into her soft bed, her shoulders digging in to provide herself with much needed support and leverage. The cool drafts through the house, brought on by the stormy night outside, hardly bother her. In fact, she throws her sheet and duvet off of herself, her skin hot and buzzing. There’s a tightness in her wrist that resents the exertion of the last few minutes but she pushes past it, thinking instead of Esther’s body laying atop of hers, her tongue pressing deeper into her mouth. 

Her fingers slide over her wet clit, circling it over and over as she revels in her fantasy, and she can feel a tightness in her chest as the building tension in her hips and stomach hold her breath hostage. She gasps out into the empty room, closing her eyes and imagining the look on Esther’s face: the flushed heat on her cheeks, the frenzied joy in her eyes, the rustled mess of her softly curled brown hair. 

“Fuck…” she mutters aloud, her back arching as another surge of pleasure bursts through her veins. She was nearly there. 

She thinks on about Esther’s lips kissing her neck, wet and passionate, before they slowly make their way down her chest. Her own hand would flash up to the back of Esther’s neck, holding it in place and directing it exactly where she needed her ravenous touch. God, it only heightens her euphoria to imagine what Esther’s precious whimpers would sound like, sucking Samantha’s nipples between her teeth. 

And even more elation courses through her as she pictures pushing Esther’s head down further, her tongue working its way down Samantha’s stomach before finally meeting her wet clit. She’d hold Esther down, tighten her thighs on either side of her whilst-

She stops abruptly, pulling her hand away from her vulva and hearing nothing more than the patters of rain on the window and her sputtering breath. Only kissing. That is what Esther had asked for. Samantha throws a palm to her forehead, the skin slick with sweat, and feels a terrible debate waging inside of her chest. 

It was fantasy, she tells herself, her hips aching to continue. Nothing more. 

But what would Esther think? It was incredible enough that Samantha could indulge her desire to kiss the woman, and they’d spent most of their time this afternoon practicing the art of learning one another’s lips and tastes. Yet, Esther still had her vows to think of, and kissing was already pushing against the bounds of what they could reasonably hope to get away with. 

And sure, it was fantasy. It sends waves and waves of bliss in Samantha’s mind to think of Esther’s face buried between her lips, and harmless as she wished it to be to simply dream of it… it would only make her desire it more. She groans loudly and turns over, pushing her nightgown back down over her thighs. The slickness of her inner thighs, now removed from the act, feels mildly embarrassing and shameful, and she heaves a heavy breath out through her frustrated lips. 

She’s deep in the continued debate when a knock on the front door disturbs her arguments. Samantha frowns, lifting herself from the mattress which holds her disappointment, and she throws a robe over her shoulders to march downstairs. The knock softly thumps out once more, a little more hasty, and a giddy smile crosses her lips to recognize Esther’s distinct rhythm: knocking out a few beats to a hymn she enjoyed. 

Samantha swings the door open and sees Esther indeed, her black robes soaked from the rain, streams of water rolling down her face. She looks cold and full of nighttime angst, and utters, “I had to see you.” 

Samantha steps forward, placing one palm on either side of the door frame and blocking any entrance. She grins proudly, delighted at the urgency in Esther’s form. “It’s quite late, Sister Levy.” 

“Late indeed,” she swallows her breath. 

“Your timing is remarkable, I was just thinking of you,” Samantha purses her lips, eyes flicking over the way that the damp fabric hugs Esther’s form more than usual. If only she’d worn her white robes, perhaps the water would even turn them mildly transparent. 

Esther blushes and stares at the threshold. “Might I come in from the rain?” 

Samantha doesn’t budge, instead smugly asking, “You braved this storm just to come see me?” 

“Yes,” Esther exhales, her back illuminated by the sole streetlight on the block fighting the hold of night. “May I?” 

“Every drop upon you represents the devotion you have to see me. Perhaps I’d like to keep you waiting longer,” she teases, then quickly realizes she was joking less than expected. With a bustling lust in her chest, Samantha drops her voice lower and directs, “Remove your veil.” 

Esther obeys, pulling the wet, black cotton from her head and exposing her hair to the downpour. What had begun as a steady drizzle was now a proper rain, ringing out the rooftops as a pleasant background noise. 

“You must really wish to see me,” Samantha muses. 

“Yes,” Esther nods, her eyes flashing with need. 

“Remarkable girl,” Samantha purrs, dropping one of her hands from the frame and moving only slightly to the side, forcing Esther to pass extraordinarily close to her to enter the home. 

The Sister shuffles inside, and once Samantha joins her and closes the door behind them, Esther throws herself at her. She pulls her arms around Samantha’s neck and kisses her desperately, stumbling forward with abandon. Her lips are eager and hasty, and little moans erupt and bury themselves within her throat as she presses forth. Samantha allows her the pleasure for a moment, then pulls away and walks Esther back up against a wall, holding her palm on the nun’s sternum to keep her in place.

“You’re dripping all over the floors, dear,” Samantha chides, enjoying the pounding skips of Esther’s racing heartbeat. 

“Would you do it?” Esther asks suddenly, a twinge of fear in her eyes. 

Samantha raises a confused brow. “Get a towel?” 

Esther has to swallow back some of her nerves. “Would you wait in the rain for me?” She sighs and anxiously adds, “That isn’t an accusation, I-I’m simply worried I’ve already fallen so deeply into my need for you without knowing where yo-,”
Samantha interrupts her with a gentle kiss on her cheek. She steps back and opens the door, taking a long breath and bracing herself before dropping the step down onto the porch and into the rain. She pulls her arms over her chest and shifts her weight onto her foot, smiling up at the Sister in the doorway and asking, “For how long?” 

Esther shakes her head in amazed disbelief. “I didn’t think you would-,”

“How long?” She asks again. 

She looks positively giddy. “You’ve already proven the point, dear.” 

“Well,” Samantha tilts her head to the side, her nightgown beginning to stick to her skin as the rain drenches it, “I should like to make the point irrefutable.” To demonstrate her commitment further, she removes her robe, leaving only her gown as she stretches her arms wide and tilts her face towards the sky, basking in the frigid drops. 

Esther steps into the doorframe and rests her head back into it, staring up with a look of wonder across her face. She wears a feeling of blessing upon her, like a gift has been given to her which she never believed she deserved. She chuckles marvelously, shivering from the drenched cloth hugging her cool skin, surely covered in goosebumps. 

“You’ll want to watch me. This is the only wet you’ll see of me this evening,” Samantha teases, her form still buzzing from its denied pleasure. 

Esther’s bright red cheeks tighten as her face contorts into an embarrassed grimace. “I’m afraid your nightgown is not quite opaque.” 

“Look,” Samantha directs, lifting a hand to Esther’s chin to guide it down to watch her. Her other hand runs slowly down the front of her gown, the light fabric becoming transparent save for the few resilient folds left. She revels in Esther’s lascivious panic at seeing her nearly naked breasts. 

“You need not remain there…” 

“For such a glimmer in your eyes, anything,” Samantha chirps. 

“You’re going to catch a cold,” Esther complains. 

Samantha grins. “Join me, then.” 

“I’m already soaking wet.” 

Samantha tugs Esther’s hand to pull her back out into the downpour. “We’ll both catch colds and sequester together to recover.” The nun begrudgingly accepts, her eyes making a frightful effort not to look below Samantha’s neck. “You can look down, dear.” 

“But your eyes are so beautiful,” the nun deflects, flustered. 

“I imagine you can see nearly all of me by now,” she muses, her own hands grasping at Esther’s habit and twirling the heavy cotton. “And yet you remain perfectly enshrouded. Do you wear anything underneath your robes?” 

“A set of undergarments,” Esther croaks. 

Samantha purses her lips, her gaze scouring over the Sister’s form. “In my imagination it’s simply the robes upon your naked skin.” 

Esther swallows. “Conducive for easy access, I’m sure.” 

Once again thinking of her denied pleasure fifteen minutes prior, Samantha quietly adds, “I never let it go that far.” 

“Pardon?” Esther’s cheeks puff with laughter, and suddenly Samantha is the one feeling flustered. The Sister tilts forward, a stream of water trickling down her nose, and mutters incredulously, “You withhold yourself from spoiling my chastity even in fantasy?” 

The former noble woman rolls her eyes, shoving back the abashment in her face. “I believe I ought to go light a fire for us.” She steps past Esther and into the house, holding her arms tightly across her form as the chill finally reaches her. 

Esther is giggling incessantly as she follows, shutting the door. “Even I don’t maintain your purity in my dreams.” Her hand affectionately rests on the square of Samantha’s back as she’s stooped down to strike a match and throw it into the living room fireplace. “You truly mean to tell me that you’ve so thoroughly whipped yourself into honoring my oath that you…” She pauses, beaming and shaking her head. “... Do you simply halt yourself when the fantasy goes too far or do you just only enjoy kissing?” 

Samantha smirks as the fire roars to life, and stands once more to face Esther. “I will never forgive you for turning me into a woman concerned with another’s virtue,” she complains, then quietly adds, “The former.” 

Esther’s low and bursting laugh rings out over the room as she shivers in her wet clothes. “Samantha, that is downright adorable! Never have I witnessed a woman down so badly.” 

“Well,” Samantha purses her lips, moving to retrieve a few towels and blankets from a chest in the corner, “I suppose I care for you a great deal.” 

Esther continues, bouncing in place from the excitement of the detail placed before her. She’s smiling proudly and smugly, but with warmth and joy, and she raises her hands to cover her own mouth as she snorts in delight. “I set out to tame an adulterer, but I’d never thought I would have so much success-,”

And, partly to prove her wrong and partly to satisfy her own pride, Samantha drops the towels from her hands and pulls her nightgown off of her slick skin, feeling the fabric tug as the rain holds it in place. She lets it fall around her ankles and stands with her hands on her hips, staring at Esther with a challenge in her glare. “Would you like to test how tame I am?” She taunts. 

Esther begins laughing nervously and takes a trembling step back. Her face returns to a deep crimson, and her hands tuck tightly against her sternum for support. She swallows through her dry mouth, her breath noticeably quicker than it was just moments before. 

“Your clothes are just as wet,” Samantha continues, lowering her tone to be sultry and enticing, “what would you do if I told you to remove them? Perhaps I’ve tamed you.” She steps forward, each movement of her form slow and deliberate, delicate like a dancer upon a stage. “The reformed adulteress… or the tainted nun… which do you believe is more true, Sister Levy?” 

Esther fidgets nervously with her fingers, tugging along her knuckles like it was the only thing keeping her in place. She looks terrified in a rapturous way, unsure of how to respond to the sudden burst of tension which has electrified the space between them. Samantha teases her with only one more step forward, sighing, “How I love the look upon your face,” before giving up the act and picking the towels back up. She wraps a blanket around her own figure and calmly returns to Esther, offering her a set of towels to dry off with. “There, I believe I’ve teased you enough.” 

But the Sister does not lift her hand to accept the towels, remaining locked in place like a tree with roots. She swallows again, and the nervous joy which had filled her eyes grows more and more serious with each waiting moment. After a trio of shuddering breaths, she whispers, “... I would do it.” She raises a palm to her forehead, massaging it while closing her eyes. “God, I think I am the tamed one. I wanted to be.” 

Eager to interrupt her spiraling, Samantha thrusts the towels into her arms, hastily saying, “Then let us quickly discuss something else, I’m sorry for taking it too-,”

The Sister allows them to fall through her hands and land on the floor with a muted thump. “You have so much respect for me, but I… what I feel cannot be described only as respect. No… no, I feel devotion.” 

“Esther, go sit by the fire,” Samantha implores, adjusting the blanket covering herself and picking the towels up from the floor. “It’ll bring you some peace until the moment passes.” 

She nods, stepping forth in a slow march to the fire, where she kneels and faces Samantha. She places her hands softly into her lap, and when she looks up at the woman, her eyes are filled with a reverent obedience. “Tell me to remove them.” 

“Sister Levy,” Samantha’s voice warns. 

“I-I don’t care if you’re some sort of succubus, or, or an angel, or anything,” Esther exhales. “All I wish to be is in worship. I came over tonight because I knew I would not be able to resist you. My heart aches for it. My flesh burns.” She sighs and looks down at Samantha’s feet. “I’ve already accepted my sin. I’m not perfect tonight. All I wish is for you to do with me what you will.” 

Samantha tilts her head and sucks in a tense breath, fighting to find the place within herself to reject Esther for her own good. Her voice is constrained with effort as she mutters back, “I only have so much capacity to deny my desires.” 

“Then I shall ask thrice more to exhaust it.” 

She presses the balls of her feet deep into the carpeted floor beneath her, trying to focus on the steadying warmth of the fire which rages in the fireplace behind Esther. The Sister is backlit by it, adorned with a halo of flames that flicker over her like a promise of what would be to come. Samantha pulls her blanket tighter around herself, saying, “I will not risk throwing you into ceaseless burning again.” 

“I have been burning from the moment I met you,” Esther’s lips supplicate. “Please.” 

“No,” Samantha shakes her head. “You have made this oath because it has brought you peace. That is what you have always told me.” 

The intercession replies just as quickly. “And I shall never know peace again save for that which you bestow by your touch. Please.” 

The look of adoration in Esther’s eyes is nearly too much to bear. More so, it provides even more challenge to imagine that look transforming into desperate pleas for her, crying out as Samantha has her way with the beautiful woman. How irresistible her lips are… how delectable her form… The feelings of frustration from denying her desires pours over her, and Samantha can hardly hide from the beaconing warmth arising from her own hips. 

When she contests again, she can tell her heart isn’t in it, her voice arises hollow and disinterested in the denial. “I do not wish to compromise our friendship. I couldn’t live with myself if you resented me for permitting this.” 

“Then know that my heart contains so much desire for you it pains me,” the vesper calls back, her adoring mouth supplying the final entreaty required to surpass Samantha’s remaining resistance. “Please.”

“Remove your robes,” Samantha commands. 

Esther obeys, her eyes fixed onto Samantha’s the entire time as she methodically strips away all which held them apart from one another. A doe-like glimmer fills those hazel pools, and as the black cloth unfolds from her, reveals to Samantha the woman’s soft and supple flesh, she can feel herself give into the frenzied need for her. 

And then Samantha is opening up her own blanket, lowering herself to crawl down over Esther and push her back into the ground. Her cool skin meets Esther’s, shimmering with goosebumps as the fire makes a vain attempt to remove the effect of the cold rain. Her lips press into the nun’s, slowly at first, until the passion underneath empowers her to sigh into it with more and more force. She takes charge, holding one hand to the back of Esther’s face while the other slides down her body, running along her collar bone, her waist, until it settles on her breast. 

Samantha squeezes the woman’s gorgeous chest, dropping her lips down to her soft neck, enchanted by the amorous moans that cry out from Esther’s throat. The Sister’s arms wrestle across Samantha’s back, frantically pulling her in closer and closer as she submits to the ravenous presence between them. She removes Esther’s modest undergarments as well, leaving the only fabric covering either of them to be the blanket atop of Samantha, locking in their warmth together. 

As her lips suck on a space just below Esther’s ear, Samantha notices it for the first time. It was unspeakable, impossible to quantify into any tangible gesture or movement or sound, but an awareness fills her as she takes in Esther’s passion. Even with all of her force, even with the full pressure of Samantha’s naked body atop of hers, with their legs mingling together and their hips sliding above one another, the Sister wants more. Testing her theory, Samantha allows her teeth to come forth, biting Esther’s neck gently at first, and then with more force as the woman cries out in delight. 

“I’ve never met a woman so eager,” Samantha purrs. 

“Nor I, a woman so exciting,” Esther mumbles between heavy breaths. 

Samantha’s touch grows more and more forceful, her nails digging into Esther’s skin while her lips push her down harder and harder. She drops her kisses lower, biting at Esther’s collarbone and lifting her arms up to capture the Sister’s and pin them behind her head. The nun sighs rapturously, squirming as the pleasure begins to mix with the trickles of pain from the force; and with each growing moment where Esther’s satisfaction cries out to the room around them, Samantha feels her own excitement blossom. 

She pulls back, panting happily as she watches the whimpering grimace play out across Esther’s face, waiting for the woman to meet her eyes and see the fire within them. “I’ve so wondered about how you would behave in such a situation,” Samantha says gleefully. “Despite your experience, would you be demure and chaste? Would you contest my position over you? Would you fold once put into place?” She drops down to kiss Esther’s neck once more, then bites it with enough force to cause her to gasp. “You are none of those things.” 

“T-tell me what I am,” Esther begs.

“A worthy prey,” Samantha supplies, slipping her hands underneath Esther and dragging her nails down her back. “Other women would flinch if bitten or scratched. You are coming alive, my dear.” She kisses her again, gripping Esther’s waist to lift her closer. 

“I want you to seize control of me,” Esther pants, rocking her head back as Samantha lowers her mouth to lick her nipple. 

Samantha can hardly believe her own luck as the scene unfolds before her. Not only was Esther beautiful and thoughtful and kind and considerate… she… Samantha gazes up and invites Esther to meet her stare. She purses her lips and asks, “And if I were to command you to endure pain?” 

Esther leans back and appears ecstatic by the question. “I would endure graciously.” 

“Perhaps I don’t want it to be gracious.”

The Sister grins, sliding down to hover her lips just below Samantha’s. She wraps her arms around her neck and taunts, “Then do what it takes to bring me there.” 

Samantha kisses her forcefully, unable to contain the booming excitement within her. “What fun I’m going to have with you, my dear,” she promises, allowing her mind to race with ideas, pulling forth fantasies and desires she’d carried with herself for years without a suitable outlet. 

Until a shard of nerves slices through the images, and she gazes down as the fervor scattered over Esther’s face. A prickle of guilt forms in her stomach, and she cautiously adds, “But not tonight.” 

“Please,” Esther sits up, a little panicked. “I need it.” 

“You’ll get your pleasure,” Samantha presses her lips into a tight line, sighing. “But I cannot bring myself to do it without speaking to you in a more lucid headspace.” 

Esther throws herself back into a kiss, her arms flying across Samantha’s body in an attempt to continue. “This is all I want,” she pants, “I need you.” 

“And as much as I adore hearing you desperate for me…” Samantha attempts, making a futile effort to resist the need coursing through herself as well. She finds her own hand dropping to her vulva, spreading apart the wet lips with a quiet moan. “Sit back, dear.” 

Esther obeys, stretching out her legs and sitting upright. Samantha lays one of hers underneath one of Esther’s while the other sits on top, like two V’s facing one another. She shimmies her hips forward on the carpet, leaving a few inches of space between her clit and Esther’s stiff erection. Samantha’s hand returns to its work, circling across her own clit like she would if she was alone. “I want to watch you,” she swallows. “Touch yourself.” 

The Sister’s hand wraps around her delicate and stiff erection, and then releases a satisfied sigh at the sensation. Samantha watches, her legs tight and her hips aching to feel what it would be like to lower herself down upon it. She throws her neck forward, raising her free hand to hold the back of Esther’s head while her tongue pushes between her lips, kissing her like it was all she needed to live. She rocks with the movement, gasping and moaning into Esther’s mouth while she feels a surging heat inside of her chest and abdomen. 

Esther whimpers back, her fingers circling around her tip while Samantha pulls back to watch hungrily. She wears her lust on her face like it was makeup, and gazes at Esther with nothing but a desire to make her shiver with delight. Samantha rests her forehead on Esther’s, letting their hot breaths meet in the tiny space separating their lips, and she groans happily. 

“Christ,” Samantha huffs, “I’m not usually so-,” she’s interrupted by an involuntary gasp from inside her chest. She tightens her grip on the girl, increasing the pace in her wrist while crying out, “Oh, Esther…” 

And then it consumes her. She sighs loudly as her thighs constrict against Esther, her body rocking with a bursting wave of pleasure that pours out over her. She pushes through it, demanding more and more from the feeling until eventually it becomes too much, and she exhales ecstatically as she falls onto her back. 

Watching Esther continue, her eyes filled with an adoring lust as her hand slides up and down her stiff clit, fills Samantha with another wave of lust. Her hand returns to her vulva, pulling apart her labia while unable to pull herself away from the rapturous scene before her. 

“You are so beautiful, dear,” she chimes out, ensuring Esther’s eyes were fixed upon her. “I can hardly bear the look of desire upon your face, so focused and needy. And I cannot contain my own excitement for witnessing you contort with bliss.” 

Esther’s speed increases, and she shivers as the feeling pushes forth. Samantha beams, adoring the necessity that governs her. “Just imagine if it was my hand upon you,” Samantha teases. “Not tonight, but someday I hope.” The idea pulls a low moan from Esther’s chest. She places the pads of her fingers inside of herself, slowly penetrating between her wet lips while watching the display before her. “And just imagine if it was not my fingers within me, but your gorgeous beauty, filling me…” 

Esther gasps loudly, her thighs pulling tightly against Samantha’s legs as she struggles to contain herself. “Fond of that idea, are we, pretty girl? Think of how warm and soft I would be. Imagine me writhing underneath you, begging you for more and more.” She lays fully back, giving Esther a clear view of her fingers sliding inside of herself. “Or perhaps I would climb atop you, pinning you to the floor while my hips rock upon you… God, how you would squirm,” she sighs, feeling her own pleasure building up just as quickly again. “I would sink my teeth into your neck, wrestle your arms to the ground, cause you just enough pain you would not be able to bear it…” 

Esther cries out into the room as the orgasm overtakes her. Her hips rock forward as her cum shoots out of her, landing on Samantha’s thighs as she pants and whimpers. In disbelief that she could be turned on further, the warm liquid on her thighs drives her wild, and Samantha scoops it up with her fingers and inserts them back into herself, lowering her other hand to slide across her clit while she does. Her back arches and her body bursts with warmth, increasing her speed until she finishes once more, sighing out and collapsing back into the floor. 

Samantha removes her fingers from herself, raising them to her mouth and licking up the remaining taste of Esther’s juices. She moans as she sucks on them, ensuring the Sister watches every one of her salacious movements. She plays with them for a moment longer, enough to ensure Esther would be unable to forget the image later tonight and wish it were something other than Samantha’s fingers inside her mouth, and then pulls them away, settling into the satisfied warmth in her chest. 

Esther watches her in amazement, muttering, “God, I want you to ruin my life…” 

“At this rate,” Samantha exhales, “I just might.” 

After another moment or two to savor the feeling, Samantha lifts herself up and wraps the blanket around her back, opening the two flaps in the front to invite Esther in. The Sister crawls forth and nestles her head into Samantha’s chest, slowly beginning to regain control of her breath.

“Oh, Esther, what am I to do with you?” Samantha asks, her fingers gently pulling through the girl’s slowly drying hair. 

“Anything you wish to do, truly,” she cuddles deeper. 

Samantha kisses the top of her head. It’s quiet for a few moments, interrupted only by the pattering rain on the walls and windows and the crackling fire before them. “I have always wondered how you looked underneath those cumbersome robes.” 

“And now that you have?” 

“You are curvier than expected, posses a larger erection than I guessed, and I cannot bear how ravishing you look,” Samantha sighs delightedly. 

“Oh, to be ravished by you,” Esther purrs. 

Another few restful moments capture them, and Samantha spends them paying attention to the bubbling joy in her chest. The fires of lust slowly subside, replaced by the desire to simply kiss Esther sweetly and stare into her eyes for all eternity. She wraps her arms a little tighter, allowing the pads of her fingers to gently circle across her soft skin. 

“So…” Esther says quietly, “it appears you’ve learned a few new things about me…” 

Samantha tilts Esther’s chin up to look at her. “Are you worried I am to judge you?” 

Her eyes dart away sheepishly. “No one has seen such a side of me in quite some time, and…” 

“Esther, if you thought I found it difficult to resist you before…” She kisses the top of her head, and the bristling fears in the back of her mind encroach into their peaceful state. She pushes a long breath out of her nose and quietly says, “You realize for your sake this cannot happen again?” 

Esther grimaces. “I’m not sure I-,”

“My dear, how on Earth are you going to explain returning to the convent so late, drenched in rain?” Samantha implores. 

“I can come to a cover story.” 

Samantha’s hand pulls her face back to meet her eyes. “And the next time you visit?”

“I want to see you again,” she pouts. 

“I… I am not worth throwing your life’s convictions away. What of your peace of mind?” Samantha frowns. “Esther, even with the most liberal of definitions of chastity I’d struggle to explain this away.” 

“Then don’t,” the Sister contests. “I will simply avoid being caught and we could do as we please.” 

Samantha’s heart so badly wants to agree with her. “And how are you to face confession?” 

Esther’s rebuttal is ready and immediate. “Father Billings will forgive me.” 

“How are you to face your God?” 

“He’ll forgive me, too. I’ve already accepted my decision and the consequences,” she says, full of conviction and certainty. She finally meets Samantha’s eyes, then kisses her and asserts, “I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything before.” 

“Oh, Esther,” Samatha presses her lips to her forehead. “It clearly requires a stronger will than mine to resist you.” She places her hand on Esther’s cheek, holding her face still as she says, “I’m going to ruin your life. Do be sure to thank me.” 

And, to Samantha’s delight, Esther whispers back, “Thank you, Mistress.” 

 

– – – 

 

“... Samantha?” 

The voice slides through the latticed gap in the confessional wall, muted and hardly registering in Samantha’s ears. She stares ahead at the door, her fingers massaging her tense palms, trying to bury the surprising feeling of condemnation resounding in her chest. The priest has to repeat himself twice more before Samantha pulls her head up a little and mutters, “I thought you weren’t supposed to acknowledge who the confessor is?” 

“Well, we’re past that, don’t you think?” He chuckles. It’s easy to imagine the warmth in his face, delighted she was continuing to humor the practice. It’s even easier to imagine it leaving him, hearing what she and Esther had done. “It seems as though something is troubling you.” 

She sighs, long and low, wondering whether or not she should actually allow herself to speak on the matter. She’d dragged herself to confession after struggling to meet Esther’s eyes at breakfast with the children this morning, hoping Simon might be able to bring some peace of mind to her. 

“How do you and Peter manage?” She says at last. 

He pauses. “Well, by the rules of our congregation, I am not bound to celibacy as, say, a Sister is. And… I do not believe theologically I am committing a grave error in being alongside him. Why do you ask?” 

“You know why,” she grumbles. 

“Simply being polite,” he coughs. 

She purses her lips, regretting the need to ask her next question. “What are the consequences for breaking an oath such as chastity?” 

She can hear him take a slow breath. “Hypothetically speaking, I presume?” 

“Of course.” 

“Well, it could be grounds for removal from the order.”

As she feared, and suspected. She leans forward, clasping her hands tightly into one another with a nervous tick. Samantha is frustrated by the whispers of fear in her voice as she implores, “And you could prevent it, couldn’t you?” 

“The Mother Superior makes all decisions such as that. I may advise her on occasion, but ultimately the responsibility rests with her,” he answers, not sounding abundantly pleased to do so. 

Shit. “Then that settles the issue,” Samantha decides, sitting up suddenly. “For her sake, I must never see her again. To do anything else would require her to sacrifice all that she has for me.” 

“And you are not worth this?” He asks, his voice frustratingly calm and pastoral. He was doing it again, trying to instruct her towards a more generous belief in herself. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she sneers. 

She can hear him adjust in his seat, the wood creaking quietly beneath him. “If that is the decision she wishes to make, why try and stop her?” 

She doesn’t answer, offended by the very premise of his point. Samantha would not allow herself to be party to such destruction of Esther’s life and livelihood. She sighs, loudly and with disdain, and storms out of the confessional, slamming the door behind herself with more force than she ought to have done. She runs her hands across her face, tugging at her skin to throw away the weariness that seems to sag it down, and marches out of the front doors of the church. 

Had she been more thoughtful with her exit, she might have noticed Sister Pullwater greeting a few congregants out front. She would easily have avoided her, unable to bear the shame in her chest again. But she’d not been careful, too deeply consumed by the frustrated battle running incessantly through her mind. 

“Miss Deveroux,” Pullwater calls out to her, halting her march. Her stern finger encroaches into the air, becoming her over whilst dismissing her current guests. “A moment, if you would.” 

Samantha stifles her sigh, forcing herself into the practiced niceties that had been essential to her function and survival amongst the gentry. In a chipper voice, she replies, “Yes, Mother Superior?” 

Pullwater bows her head, greeting her with a polite respect. The firm wrinkles across her forehead lift up as she rises, only to furrow once more as she says, “I find myself surprised to be saying this, but I believe I have misjudged you.” 

“Oh,” Samantha posits, expecting condemnation instead.

“I…” She puffs air out of her nose with a hmpf,  pushing herself forth as though compliments were difficult to provide. “I was worried you would turn my niece down an improper path, but, as it seems, your friendship has been a positive influence on you both.” 

Samantha stomach churns. “Thank you, but I believe you’ve given me too much credit.” 

“Nonsense,” Pullwater scolds. “Esther is settling in quite nicely amongst the Sisters, and the kids have been delighted to have a frequent and pleasant guest. Judith has not stopped singing your praises since her birthday. I took a risk encouraging Esther to come to Bellchester, I was worried she would too easily fall into old habits despite my supervision…” She shrugs, baffled by the way things unfolded before her. “Given your history with Annette, I was overly suspicious of you, and I ought to have been kinder.” 

Samantha swallows, her mouth dry and bitter. “You’re too kind, Sister Pullwater.” 

The Mother Superior waves away her modesty with a disgruntled gesture of her hand. Instead, she asks, “Will you be available after you prepare breakfast for the children tomorrow? I was hoping to speak to you about another matter.” 

“If you wish.” 

“Good, good,” her head bobs, satisfied. “A testament to the living God you are. Until tomorrow, Miss Deveroux.” 

And with that, the nun departs, leaving Samantha stupefied. She’d expected a lecture, a condemnation she would have to defend against. She’d prepared a lie to tell, ready to dismiss any accusation made by the Sister. Instead, she’d been given praise; praise which felt grossly misguided. She shivers, and while her plan had been to sequester herself at home, shut away in her shame and frustrations, she finds herself carefully marking where Pullwater left to. Once confirming she was off to the market and away from the convent, Samantha turns back towards the church. 

She steps quietly up into the convent, past the orphanage and towards the Sister’s quarters. Esther was likely in her room, taking time to herself after breakfast, and Samantha can hardly prevent herself from staying away. Whether it was to end things with or, or kiss her, it was impossible to tell. There was a fury inside of her that could not be resolved on her own. 

Samantha knocks quietly at Esther’s door, which pulls open a moment later. The nun wears her white robes, which only emphasize the mild flush on her face and the breathy way she moved. The former noblewoman grins at her, noticing the unkempt ruffle of her habit at the base of its hem, and quickly reads what she has interrupted. 

“Thinking of me?” Samantha smirks.

“Praying,” Esther coughs out. 

“Thinking of me,” she confirms. “I needed to speak with you.” 

Esther nods, closing her eyes to steady herself a moment. “As do I.” She steps out of the doorway, gesturing for Samantha to come inside, then shuts the door softly behind them. She sits down on her narrow bed, set against the wall of the small, plain room, and gestures for Samantha to sit beside her. She does, but leaves a thoughtful amount of space between them. 

Samantha speaks first. “I’m so… I need to apologize for last n-,”

Esther takes her hand. “No, you do not.” 

“Yes I do,” she pulls away, though not enough to escape Esther’s inviting touch. “I shouldn’t have-,”

“Perhaps I should speak first,” Esther interrupts, quietly staring at her until Samantha relents and allows her. “Samantha,” she exhales like her name meant something, “no one has ever made me feel the way you do. I came to your house of my own volition last night.” 

Samantha shakes her head. “I’ve been tempting you, pushing you to give in.” 

Esther smiles, though half of her face nearly grimaces. “As though I haven’t?” She removes her veil, depositing it on the mattress to her left. “Last night, you saw the woman I truly am, not the one I’m pretending to be.” 

“This life has brought you peace, stability, purpose-,”
“And there is an aching hole in the center of it,” Esther sighs. She turns her hand in the air, searching for the right words, and eventually explains, “I told you the Apostle Paul says only to marry if you cannot withstand the burning. I, I am not capable of it, and never have been.” 

Samantha furrows her brow. “We cannot marry, so the point is irre-,”

“I have interest in either sex, Samantha. I could marry,” Esther looks away. She removes her hand from Samantha’s, setting both of them in her lap as she thinks, a frightful nervousness written upon her face. “The issue is not marriage, it is finding a relationship in which the other person can douse the flames within.” Her eyes flick back up to Samantha, filled with a devout certainty. “You can.” 

Samantha lowers her face into her hands, pressing her palms against her forehead. “Esther… this is a dangerous path we’re treading.” 

“In every lover I’ve encountered before you, they grow frightened when they learn of my unconventional desires.” She lifts a hand to Samantha’s cheek, pulling away her hands and ensuring their eyes meet. “Last night… that was the first time anyone has looked upon them and been excited. I… I could see it in your eyes, and I want it so badly I would do anything to have it.” 

“And what of your oath?” Samantha’s eyes escape hers. “What of the Sisters? Esther, I am not worth such a loss. I will only disappoint you.” 

Esther shakes her head, hasty and disbelieving. When she speaks again, her words form with an argument of certainty. “You’ve never met anyone like me, either, have you? Maybe you’ve met women with similar tastes, and maybe you’ve met women who bring you emotional fulfillment, but they’ve never aligned until me. You wouldn’t leave me,” she asserts, so confident in it that Samantha nearly believes her. “I love my life amongst the Sisters with one excruciating exception. They need not know.” 

“Oh, you beautiful girl,” Samantha lifts her head up to the ceiling, staring at the sky as though asking forgiveness from a God she wasn’t even sure she believed in. She pushes a long breath out of her chest, already knowing what her decision was but struggling to accept it. “We would need to be careful,” she says at last, “lest you lose everything.” 

Esther kisses her, sweet and quick, and rests her arms around her neck. “I shall do whatever it takes.” 

Samantha takes her chin into her hand, raising it up to meet a serious glimmer behind her eyes. She smiles, proudly and excitedly, and says, “Then I will see you upon my doorstep tonight.” 

 

– – – 

 

She wraps the red dress upon herself, deliberate in each movement like a soldier preparing for a march. Her hair is placed up into a masterful top braid, spiraling in amongst itself while two carefully placed strands fall down on either side of her face. She paints her face with makeup, thoughtful with each stroke, and she feels the practiced efforts of dozens of galas and balls and social visits take hold of her, adorning her in the privileged light of the gentry. 

And she waits by the door, having set up the living room exactly as she’d need it. A fireplace crackles against the wall. A long, fluffy blanket covers the floor before it. Candles flicker on a scattered array of shelves, adding a scent of vanilla and lavender to the room. 

Esther knocks upon the door; timid, but sporting her usual sing-song rhythm. Samantha waits a teasing few moments before deigning to open it, careful to hide the bursting excitement inside of her. She stands in the opened doorway tall and proud, with as much elegance and power as she can muster, and beams down at Esther. 

Esther, the gorgeous girl who kneels before the door like Samantha, was her alter. Esther, her darling love who has removed the collar of her habit so that the top of the robes tease out some of her cleavage. Esther, a woman who Samantha could never resist, who holds in her outstretched palms a burning candle, offering it as though Samantha was a goddess requiring tribute. 

“A gift for you,” Esther bows her head. 

“I wouldn’t dare refuse.”