I arrived at the manor with my starched collars and iron rules, a governess armored against the world's cruelties.
Dutiful. Untouchable.
Until she glided through the gaslit corridors, her cool gaze stripping me bare without a word.
The lady of the house, all poised silk and maternal steel, guarding her children like a fortress.
But in the flicker of her eyes, I saw the wildfire she hides from everyone.
Even her husband.
Now every lesson I give her daughters doubles as torment.
Her fingers brush mine over a candlelit ledger, breaths hot and mingling like a shared sin.
In moonlit bedchambers, lace yields to trembling traces that map forbidden territories.
Hidden passageways claim us next, hands clasped against chill stone, pulses racing toward ruin.
She whispers promises of possession that unravel my spine, turns my rigid spine to liquid want.
I fight it. God, I fight.
Yet surrender tastes like salvation, laced with the terror of her touch.
She's my obsession now, this woman whose vows bind her to another even as she devours me whole.
Class lines blur in the dark. Maternal duty fractures under our reckless hunger.
One wrong gasp, one exposed glance across the dining hall, and it all crumbles: my hard-won respectability, her fragile family, the sanity I've clung to like a prayer.
Her husband's shadow looms, his threats a blade at our throats.
Victorian propriety chokes tighter than any corset.
And still, I ache for the next stolen moment.
What if our blaze consumes us before we can confess it's love?
A full-length dark sapphic Victorian forbidden erotic romance featuring a dutiful governess and a fiercely protective lady.
