The Tender Days of May (The Belle House Book 1)
Page 10
Lord Ashbee kept glancing at her face, smeared with tears. He was certain that for the rest of her life, May would be sure she had made the right choice. However significant or not, this gesture of hers will symbolize the breaking of virginity of her knowledge of the world. Nothing to do with pleasure. Not yet, at least. The thought warmed his cynical heart. He was a devil, after all, and when he helped May and the girl into the carriage, he knew perfectly well that no matter what May sacrificed, she will be grateful for what he had just done.
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They rode through the now dark roads of the sinister London. When the street lamps finally started to light the way, May could see through the window the shops and the lights of the venues, the fancy dresses, and top hats. Back to reality, she thought. The slums and the filth that shook her to the core felt like a nightmare, a bad dream left behind, and only Ada’s small, fragile body next to her, the little head on her lap, the thin hands tightly clasping her skirt were the reminder of the hell that she had been pulled out of. If only May knew that the horrors like that existed, she wouldn’t even think twice about saving this little girl. What if people found themselves in situations like this all the time? What if the poverty made them take the choices that were even worse than what she had seen? How could she judge others when she had no idea what their lives were like?
She looked at Lord Ashbee. He was silent the entire way back, but his eyes didn’t leave her. He didn’t smile as he usually did, just studied her. May had a strange feeling that he had known all along when they had only met briefly in the hallway that they would end up on this road from hell. She felt that the man in front of her had some dark powers, for she still couldn’t grasp the indifference with which he walked through the streets of the slums, the sternness with which he looked at everything in the dungeon, without flinching, as if that dark underworld was part of him. In the darkness of the carriage, May gazed into Lord Ashbee’s eyes that glistened with the reflection of the outside lights, and saw the nobility and the sinisterness, the light and the dark, and all that combined into a strength that she had mistaken for vanity. He knew both sides of the world, and though the thought was scary, it also drew May closer to him. No one else would she feel so protected with in the darkness as with Lord Ashbee, as if it was God himself that led the way.
The carriage stopped at the back of the Belle House. It was just hours since she had left it, but now, it seemed cold and alien as if a lifetime had passed.
“Will you stay for a moment?” Lord Ashbee asked May quietly. He wanted to know how she felt, what she thought about the world he had just shown her, how much damage it had done to her as if he enjoyed the experience like the serpent savored the conversation with Eve.
One of the men helped Ada out of the carriage and took her inside. May didn’t need to see to know that Martha would break down in tears, that she would hold Ada tighter to her than she had ever done before, that she would not let her out of her sight as long as she lived, that the little girl would probably forget the whole episode quite quickly. But it didn’t matter because May would not. Martha would be forever grateful to her without knowing what May traded for it. But that seemed laughable now. So, she will be the mistress of a nobleman. The deal saved a life. What could be more important? Was May forced to do it? No. Did she want to? That was the question. And the answer was “yes.” The truth was, May didn’t think of it as her achievement. No matter what she had given up, it was Lord Ashbee who led her down to the underworld and sealed the deal. In her mind, he was a savior.
Lord Ashbee got up and took the seat next to May. And suddenly, all alone with him, she felt the familiar feelings flutter inside of her.
“What will happen to her father? The drunk?” May turned to look at the man by her side. “If he does it again, then what?” Her face was dry from tears, she was calm and somehow matured by the last several hours. Now, all said and done, she finally felt the magnetic presence of Lord Ashbee again. She could scent him next to her, and it was even more intoxicating, mixed with the image of him walking through the slums.
“He won’t,” Lord Ashbee answered, shaking his head. “It’s all taken care of. He won’t show up here ever again, and I’m sure the maid will not be upset.”
May did not want to ask what that meant, did not want to think of it either. If the drunkard father traded lives with Ada, that would serve him right. This scary thought flickered only for a second in her mind and disappeared.
Lord Ashbee studied her face that now, tarnished by sadness, was even more beautiful.
“That place, those streets,” May spoke again, “you’ve been there before, haven’t you? And not by accident, either.”
She looked up at him to meet his eyes.
“Yes, May,” he said, blinking slowly.
“You know those parts quite well, don’t you?” She wanted to confirm her thoughts as if it would tell her more about the man she had signed herself to.
He nodded slowly. “Some, yes.”
“Why?” she asked, but he looked at her in silence without answering.
“Why would you go there?” she repeated. Was that the reason for his reputation? Was he one of the people that made money selling or buying other’s vices? She wanted to know as if that somehow would bring her closer to him, or keep her away as much as possible.
“Because when you think your life is useless,” he spoke slowly, “the slums will show you what life is worth. Because the easiest way to get rid of pain is to watch others’, or inflict the greater one on yourself. Because hitting rock bottom can teach you hope. Because you can’t know a human or yourself until you see what humans are capable of or how much you can bear. Some of it you saw for yourself.”
The words sank into the darkness of the carriage, and there was no trace of a smile on Lord Ashbee’s face. For the first time, May did not hear a note of cynicism. And when he said the words, his eyes shone not with the usual mockery but with pain and bitterness as if there was something inside him that had never healed.
To her, the journey to the East End was the biggest revelation. Though it terrified her, somehow, the horrors made her feel blessed about her current situation that had seemed like rock bottom before.
Oh! How could she possibly know what rock bottom was like!
“I want to know more about that world,” she said quietly, looking in Lord Ashbee’s eyes. “I want to know more about you,” she said as she held her breath.
“Hm…” He looked at her with curiosity. “May,” he said quietly and lifted his hand to stroke her cheek. This time she didn’t flinch or look away. “I am not sure you are the kind of person that needs to know too much about the dark depths of humankind.” His fingers kept caressing her cheek.
“You don’t know what kind of person I am. That’s what we are going to find out, right?”
He raised an eyebrow, and she searched his face for the answer but didn’t get any. Instead, he kept gazing at her as if lost in the thoughts.
There was something mysterious about Lord Ashbee, May thought. Something that he was hiding, a part that she felt she would like to discover. The feeling, momentary and faint, brought her face closer to his, and she reached her fingers to his cheek, barely touching it, and kissed him softly, her heart fluttering from this display of courage. His lips answered willingly, and he drew her body closer, drowning her in the slow-burning desire that was full of submission and the knowledge that their journey had just begun.
Part 2
The Taste of May
CHAPTER 1
It was the day they decided upon.
May took a bath earlier that morning. Put on a formal dress with short sleeves, though skipped the corset. Couldn’t eat lunch, for she was so nervous, and spend the rest of the day trying to occupy herself with anything that could take her mind off what was to happen. By evening, she exhausted herself and sat on the chair by the window, observing the back alley’s life.
There came a knock at
the door, and May jerked up from the chair, trembling.
It was only Krissy. She held a bowl of water and cloths that she set down on the washstand, then pulled a pouch from the apron and, with a coy smile, set it on the nightstand. She disappeared and returned with a tray that displayed a bottle of brandy and a couple of glasses.
The candle sconce by the bureau was lit up, as well as the candelabrum on the coffee table. There was already too much light, May thought, as Krissy lit up a candle next to the bed. This evening, its orange glow seemed ominous to May.
Krissy’s movements were slow and methodical as if she was preparing for a ritual. She paused to look at May with curiosity.
“Are you excited, Miss?”
Oh, May wanted to slap her! To throw her out! To tell her it was none of her business! It embarrassed her that the girl was part of the whole thing, was in on it, knew what was happening.
“No,” May answered sharply and sent her away. Only when she inspected the pouch did she realize what was in it. Condoms. It made her blush with embarrassment.
It was dark outside. The candle shades lit up the room with a dim reddish light. May walked around, unable to calm her nerves.
When she answered another knock at the door, there he was.
Lord Ashbee.
His dark eyes.
The smell of his cologne.
And the flowers, a bouquet of gardenias, which surprised her.
“How thoughtful,” she murmured.
Lord Ashbee smiled.
“I mostly thought of myself. The flowers will remind you of me and our first night.”
His eyes locked on hers. He came closer and kissed her softly on the cheek.
“Good evening, May.”
She trembled at his touch.
The anticipation!
The unknown!
He studied her. The hair strands, twisted, pinned, gathered into the crown on the back of her head. Her flushed face and burning cheeks. Her eyes that glistened with a range of emotions. Fear. Timidness. Bewilderment. Her lips—a deeper color of a rose.
He marveled at the sight of her. So beautiful and shy!
“Let’s have a drink, May. I think you need it.” He poured them brandy, and she took a sip quickly and clumsily, choking on it.
It brought a smile to his face.
“Are you nervous?”
“Yes,” she admitted after hesitation and kept her eyes anywhere but him.
“I know you are.” He nodded and grinned even wider, for that thought aroused him. “The first time always is. Don’t be afraid. It’s something that every woman has to go through. You will have a much better experience than many.”
Experience.
The word made her blush.
They drank brandy, and he asked her about Ada and Mrs. Sharke and the daily routine as if to distract her from the purpose of his visit. They didn’t sit down—she stood by the bureau as if trying to keep the distance, while he walked about as if studying her from every angle.
Some time went by in this chat, and May felt more relaxed. She could feel her cheeks flush from alcohol, the liquid sip into her system, calming the nerves. He didn’t try to kiss her yet. And it surprised and disappointed her. She avoided his eyes, instead, studied his clothes and movement. He had good taste. Of course, he would. His movements were refined and graceful for a strong muscular man. She noticed the ring on his left hand, the yellow and green of the colored gold, the tiny tentacles that formed a crown on the top and clasped a stone of a yellowish-green color. She paused her eyes on it for a moment, and he noticed.
“Chrysolite,” he explained. “It was a present from a great man. The stone changes color depending on the light. A human trait,” he added.
“It looks like a spider,” May said.
“One sees what one wants,” he answered with a smile and took his jacket off. “May, I want you to let your hair loose,” he said as he took off the waistcoat next.
Her heart started pounding so swiftly that she thought the man would hear it. It’s time! The thought brought back her nervousness that spiderwebbed through her entire body.
But she did as he asked, her hands slightly shaking as she took the pins out, pulled out the clips, then ran both hands through the mane of brown hair that cascaded down to her shoulders and chest.
Lord Ashbee unbuttoned his shirt, and May threw a glance at the man, noticing his broad chest and the lean muscles of his stomach.
He stepped close to her and ran his fingers through the loose waves of her hair that fell onto her face.
“Better,” he said, then lifted her face by the chin and kissed her. Slowly at first, then using his tongue. May kissed him back and felt the familiar wave of pleasure run through her entire body down to her legs.
But he didn’t hold the kiss long. Instead, he pulled her hair back, exposing her neck, and planted soft kisses while his fingers unbutton her dress. The fragrance of a water-lily was the strongest on her neck, and he kept kissing her, inhaling the smell, undoing her clothes as if it hid the most pleasurable scents.
May trembled at his closeness, tried to help with the buttons, jerked nervously at the stuck one, and he stopped and chuckled at her struggle.
“Let me do this,” he said softly.
When the dress finally slipped down onto the floor, May stood in her chemise, knickers, stockings, and shoes. She seemed smaller and thinner without the clothes on. More delicate, like the first spring flower. He slid the loose chemise off her shoulders, pulled it down and let it slide to the floor, leaving her upper body naked.
May gasped and tried not to breathe. It was the first time one saw her naked.
Lord Ashbee studied her with a smile, then raised both his hands and brushed the back of his fingers against her small full breasts, circling them, noticing the goosebumps on her skin.
He brushed his thumbs over her nipples that were already hard and noticed her hold her breath.
Oh, how delighted that made him, and he felt his member swell with desire. Every time she took a careful breath, her breasts seemed to come alive in his hands, and that stirred him even more.
“You are beautiful,” he whispered and leaned to kiss her on the lips, still stroking her skin, then pulled away, bent down, and his lips reached for her left nipple. He tugged gently, then let it go, then circled it with his tongue and mouthed it harder.
May gasped and moved her hands slightly, not knowing what to do with them.
Lord Ashbee let go of her nipple and came back up to her face. His one hand slid up around her neck, and he kissed her again, more insistent this time, but trying to restrain his desire. His hands slid to the strings of her knickers, untying them.
“Take it all off, May,” he said softly.
She hesitated but obeyed, slid down the rest of the clothes, and straightened up, lowering her eyes in shame, her full body on display for Lord Ashbee.
His eyes slid down to her breasts, then to her hands that were clasped in the front, obscuring the part that he wanted to see so much. He pulled them to the sides, looking with a smile at the brown triangle between her legs. She blushed. His eyes came back up, and he stepped closer and started kissing her. His hands caressed her hips while his tongue slid into her mouth, stroking hers. She finally gave in, and her hands moved up to his arms.
Oh, May! He wanted these hands to unbutton his trousers, touch him, but she was too shy.
Of course.
It’s all right.
She will learn to do so.
Meanwhile, his hands explored her body, sliding to her perfect behind, caressing it, feeling her body nudge towards his, her tongue braver and mouth more insistent. His hands glided along her skin, went about carefully, his every touch resonating in her body with a timid tremble. They explored her inner thighs, caressing them, and her body betrayed her with a moan. His mouth melted into hers, trapping that moan, and his fingers slid towards the junction between her thighs.
She gasped and held her
breath. But oh, how delighted he was when he found her wetness. An ocean!
“God, May!” he whispered into her mouth, surprised by such finding. She was aroused! “Oh, sweetheart…”
He found her clit and felt her hold her breath again. His fingers slid deeper, parting her folds, exploring the wetness, sliding back up, and he felt her grip on his arms tighten.
He pulled away and looked at her face.
May stood breathless, tried to act calm and controlled, but he could see the tension in her body, the fear in her eyes that fought her desire, and how she tried to avoid looking at him.
“It’s not going to work like this,” he said softly, and her eyes flew up at him in panic.
He suddenly bent over, picked her up, and brought her to the bed, laying her down. Then went to pick up one of her stockings, came back, and looked at her.
“There is no reason to be afraid, sweetheart.”
He tied the stocking over her eyes like a blindfold, took his shirt off and moved on top of her.
“Just relax, May. I only want to make you feel good,” he whispered.
His lips were on hers again, and he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. His kisses were more impatient now, his hand more insistent. It stroked her breasts, and May felt an intense wave of desire again. She couldn’t see him now, and, somehow, not being scrutinized by his eyes made her let go. She gave in, her mouth taking in his, his tongue, her hands less timid, sliding up and down his arms, his muscled body.
His mouth left hers and went down her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, and the pink pearls in their centers. He licked one of her nipples, then tried to take as much in his mouth as he could.
“Ah,” she moaned and arched her back.
“That’s it, May,” he whispered, “good girl.”
Then switched to another one and did the same while her hands caressed his shoulders and neck.
“You will learn to let go, May,” he said softly and kissed her navel, which she sucked in at his touch. “When you are brave enough to voice your desires”—he planted several kisses on her thighs—“I will do”—moved to her inner thigh—“anything”—he kissed another, slightly pushing her legs apart—“you”—bit at her skin softly—“want…”