Fingersmith, Sarah Waters

'Come here,' she said.

I shook my head. She said it again. I shook my head again - but then went to her anyway - went softly to her across the creaking boards, and she lifted her arms and drew my face to hers, and kissed me.She kissed me, with her sweet mouth, made salt with her tears; and I could not help but kiss her back - felt my heart, now like ice in my breast, and now like water, running, from the heat of her lips.

But then she did this. She kept her fingers upon my hand and pushed my mouth too hard against her; and she seized my hand and took it, first to her bosom, then to where the blanekts dipped, between her legs. There she rubbed with my fingers until they burned.

The quick, sweet feeling her kiss had called up in me turned to something like horror, or fear. I pulled away from her, and drew my hand away. 'Won't you do it?' she said softly, reaching after me. 'Didn't you do it before, for the sake of this night? Can't you leave me to him now, with your kisses on my mouth, your touch upon me, there, to help me bear his the better? -Don't go!' She seized me again. 'You went, before. You said I dreamed you. I'm not dreaming now. I wish I were! God know, God knows, I wish I were dreaming and might wake up from this and be at Briar again!'

[What I am currently reading. I thought a couple people might appreciate it. And I just had tea with honey in it and you might all be glad to know my throat feels lots better ;)]