Disabuse Clarissa of her confusion

Lucy was aroused by Clarissa's self-pleasuring and angered by Clarissa's casual dismissal of her as a "bastard wench" after the redheaded, overtitled, overwrought chit had fallen into Lucy's arms sobbing and accepted Lucy's physical comfort until she had fallen asleep.

Lucy took Clarissa by the shoulder and turned her flat on her back. In the dim airship storeroom fitted up to be Lucy's makeshift cabin, Clarissa blinked and looked up at Lucy, her hand still in her cunt.

Clarissa's eyes went wide and round. Lucy tried to hold her face impassive. Clarissa brought both hands up, poised to push Lucy away, and took in a quick deep breath.

Lucy held steady. Clarissa's fingers, wet with her juices, were inches from her nose. Lucy's heart thumped with anger and lust, and her face felt hot. She knew her expression was improper.

Clarissa let her hands drop.

"I'm sorry," Clarissa blubbed.

Lucy had trouble finding her voice. "Shall... I take you to Edmund then?" Lucy forced out in an unnatural tone.

The two of them regarded each other, eye to eye, rapid breaths mingling. Clarissa's hissed through her teeth, while Lucy's sped through her nostrils.

Clarissa closed her eyes and lay limp. Lucy held herself over her, stiffly. The airship engines droned, somewhere far away.