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Chapter Twelve – A Single Rose
To love someone so much that you can't bear not be around them and yet to know that you can never hold on to them, is a terrible curse.
Rose leaned up against the doorway and gazed in at the two women, each so totally immersed in the other's pleasure that neither noticed her standing there.
"Oh, yes! Yes, just like that, my sweet little slut." Layla gripped the ends of the armrests and, closing her eyes, tossed her head back, allowing her long silky hair to cascade down behind the chair. Her lovely face, now glistening with delicate perspiration, flushed with pleasure.
Elise's soft brown curls gently bounced as her head bobbed between Layla's open legs, one hand placed on her mistress's knee and the other rubbing and prodding her own sweet pussy.
"Elise, my sweet little slut, Rose has taught you well. Oh, yes! Yes… so very well!"
Upon hearing those words, a rush of pride filled Rose, and her lips formed a faint smile. Once again she had been responsible for Layla's enjoyment, and nothing could possibly please her more.
Rose had been attracted to Layla the moment they had met. In the weeks that followed, she had been powerless not fall in love with her employer's wife. Night after night she would lay in bed, fantasizing about Layla. Day after day her heart would break as she watched Edward and Layla together.
To care for someone so much that nothing else matters except their happiness… how many people experience that in their lifetime? Rose knew that kind love. To be able to comfort and care for Layla and have her depend on her for so much was an honor and privilege that would have to suffice.
The day Edward died Rose felt her heart would surely break – but not for him – for Layla.
Treasured memories of that evening when Rose had comforted and then seduced Layla came flooding back, and for a moment in her mind's eye, she imagined herself sitting there with her mistress instead of Elise. She smiled wryly. A beautiful creature like Layla could never have feelings for a woman like her. Rose knew that, and so she had never spoken of that night since.
She stared wistfully at her mistress for a moment longer before quietly moving away from the door. Earlier Layla had mentioned she might like a chocolate torte for dessert. Rose would need to begin preparing it soon... And her bed… Rose had noticed the jasmine was now in bloom… Layla might like some sprinkled on her sheets... And the air was beginning to cool… Rose would needed to fetch a bucket of kindling in case Layla may need a fire to warm herself later… Yes, there was always so much to do.
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