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Miss Jane Fairfax had a way of correcting Emma that made it feel like a soft caress, as if her error were something to be admired. Just like everyone else, Emma wasn’t imune to the air that followed Jane, the air which made everyone fall in love with her. No, she wasn’t immune, and that was how she found herself sitting in front of Jane as she tried to teach her a difficult song.
“Again, if you please,” Jane said. She looked at Emma, and Emma felt the oddest urge to look anywhere else but at Jane’s face. Emma drew a breath as she watched Jane’s lips. As she opened her mouth and sang the passage again, she missed the same pitch as before. Jane’s hand rose, delicate, and hovered just above Emma’s chin for a second before her thumb pressed below Emma’s jaw, her fingers cool against Emma’s skin as she did her best to help her.
“There, shape it like this,” Jane murmured, tilting Emma’s chin and speaking so close Emma could feel the warmth of Jane’s breath on her cheek. “You are rounding too much. Try again.”
Emma tried, but her mouth felt heavy and clumsy, and when she nervously tried to lick her lips she almost touched Jane’s fingers. Jane didn’t move away, instead she guided Emma, coaxing the sound from deep inside of her. Emma tried not to notice just how Jane’s finger traced her skin, lingering at the bottom of her lip. She tried not to notice, but the warmth of Jane’s breath made her want to lean in and taste the cool finger. “You’re close,” Jane whispered. “One more time. From the top.” Jane continued to touch Emma as if it was the most natural gesture in the world, and Emma’s breath twisted in her throat as the song was forgotten.
Before she could think clearly Emma’s tongue flicked against Jane’s fingertip, a soft caress, and to her utter shock, Jane did not withdraw, instead she watched Emma’s face closely as her finger continued to rub against Emma’s lip. Then she slowly pushed the finger into Emma’s hot and wet mouth.
Automatically her tongue curled around the digit, tasting the faint perfume of paper and ink that always seemed to cling to Jane’s skin. When Emma’s tongue flicked again, Jane’s finger sunk deeper into her mouth, past her teeth and over her wet tongue. Emma closed her lips around the finger, heat rising at the back of her neck as she sucked. A satisfied sound escaped Jane’s throat, and Emma’s jaw shivered with hunger.
A second finger traced Emma’s mouth before sliding in alongside the first, carefully at first as Emma’s lips stretch around the intrusion. She felt faint, her face burning, and a growing ache between her legs that begged for attention. Emma recognised the desire, and she wanted more.
When Jane's fingers plunged deeper, Emma's throat convulsed violently. Her wide eyes locked with Jane's, who remained terrifyingly calm while her knuckles disappeared past Emma's lips. Jane twisted her wrist as the fingers continued down Emma’s throat. The choking sensation tore at Emma's windpipe, panic spread through her as Jane's hand remained mercilessly precise. Jane's gaze pierced her, Emma fought to maintain eye contact, but each time Jane's fingers curled and probed deeper, Emma's eyelids fluttered close, vision swimming with tears that spilled down her cheeks as her body trembled with a desperate, shameful hunger.
The next push was harder. Jane's hand moved in a slow rhythm, tilting Emma’s head backwards. Jane's wrist twisted, forcing the fingers deeper, past the point where Emma thought she could take any more, a thin line of saliva escaping the corner of her mouth as she a different ache settled between her legs, an ache she couldn’t help but want to take care of as her thighs kept rubbing against each other.
Jane’s hand did not falter as a third finger joined the other two, the stretch was intense. Emma made a strangled sound, eyes blurring fro the tears.
Emma became aware of the slow grind of her own feet, an ache building in her belly. Jane noticed as well, of course. She let her fingers linger on Emma’s tongue, wet and compliant, then pulled them out. While Emma appreciated the opportunity to breathe freely again, she also missed the fingers, and she let out a small, involuntary whimper.
“Open your legs,” Jane said softly. The command, so delicate, made Emma’s whole body tense for a second before she obeyed, legs parting, petticoats shifting against her thighs.
Jane’s fingers slipped beneath the layers of Emma’s skirt. Emma tensed, a rush of cold air against her bare skin, but Jane’s touch was gentle as she moved her fingers higher in a slow, controlled movement, pausing above the wet heat that radiated from Emma’s center. Her soft fingers drew a careful circle before applying just enough pressure to make Emma’s hips lift off the bench. Jane’s other hand never let go of Emma’s shoulder, holding her in place. Emma wanted to say something, or to sing, but the words were caught in her throat as she let Jane’s hand guide her, let Jane’s fingers circled the spot that made her shiver, then pressing against her. Emma’s legs trembled as she tried to steady herself with a hand on Jane’s wrist, but Jane only smiled, then pressed further, two fingers inside her, the stretch almost unbearable.
Emma’s eyes rolled back as Jane continued to finger her, while the other hand found her lips again, three fingers pushing through her lips before Emma could protest, not that she would have as the intensity of the dual fingering was exquisite.
Jane’s hands worked in tandem, one filling Emma’s mouth, the other driving a steady rhythm between her legs. The room blurred, everything moving in and out of focus. Emma heard herself whimper, then the sound unfamiliar in her own ears, but Jane seemed to savoir it as the pressure of her hand between Emma’s legs, The fingers in Emma’s mouth keeping her silent even as her body wanted to cry out from the pleasure. The heat in her chest, the dizziness, the way her toes curled and her hands scrabbled uselessly at the smooth wood, everything building until all she could see was Jane.
The intense climax crashed through her, and Emma gave herself to it as she let herself fall.
When she finally woke up again she found herself on the cold floor, skirts tangled, cheek pressed to the dusty boards, and Jane was kneeling above her, her face close, hands cupping Emma’s head.
She blinked. The room had shifted. Jane’s hair was loose from its usual pins, falling wild around her face. Jane was the first to speak, her voice smooth as poured cream. “We should end the lesson here,” she said, her palms still on either side of Emma's head. “You look quite spent.” The corners of her mouth twitched into a soft smile.
Emma tried to rise, but her legs didn’t want to obey. The floor felt cool beneath her, and she let her head stay nestled in Jane’s lap, her cheek against the cotton of Jane’s dress. Emma watched how Jane’s eyelashes caught the late afternoon sun, and the way her lips pressed together like she was holding in laughter. Emma’s throat was still raw, but she managed a small sound, a question: “Will you come again tomorrow?”
Jane’s fingers tightened, just briefly, along Emma’s wrist. “If you wish it of me.”
“I do,” Emma said. Her throat still aching from the brutal thrusting. “I should like to try again. To improve.”
“Then I will come,” said Jane, smoothing Emma’s hair back behind her ear, nails grazing her sensitive skin. “You are a fast learner. I expect much progress by tomorrow.”
Emma smiled as she closed her eyes and let the remaining of the pleasure pass through her. As soon as she felt better, Jane would help her up before she bid her goodbye, both sharing one last knowing glance at each other before parting.