The Tender Days of May (The Belle House Book 1)

by Vlad Kahany

  Walter’s eyes burnt with fascination, glimmered with lust in the way that told Lord Ashbee his cousin finally found an obsession.

  “Would you fancy a visit to the Belle House again?” Walter looked at Lord Ashbee with such eagerness that the man burst out in laughter.

  “Of course, my boy! We will do anything you want!” Lord Ashbee patted him on the shoulder, and they made their way up the street that ran into Piccadilly, which was their destination, and Lord Ashbee suddenly thought of his own interest in the establishment.

  —————

  Several hours later, at the Belle House, there came a knock at the door of May’s room, and she found Krissy standing behind it with her eyes bigger than plums.

  “What is it, Krissy?” May asked anxiously, feeling Krissy’s excitement.

  “It’s Lord Ashbee,” she said, turning to look sheepishly down the hallway. “He is with Miss Eliza.”

  May frowned, not understanding. “So?”

  “So you should go, Miss”—Krissy nodded towards the hallway—“to the dark corridor, you know.”

  No-no-no-no-no.

  May shook her head. “Not Lord Ashbee. No, Krissy. That man…”

  She didn’t know how to explain to Krissy that that man could be dangerous. She was afraid of him for reasons she did not understand herself. As if when he was in the Belle House, he could sense where May was.

  “No. I have seen enough.”

  “But, Miss! You have no idea the things he does—“

  “Krissy! Leave me!”

  May shut the door in Krissy’s pouty face, flung herself into the chair, and sat like that for some time, tapping her foot, unable to hold the frustration.

  Lord Ashbee! The man was dangerous, the madam said so herself. May should stay away. She could spy on anyone, just not him. But it distressed her even greater, for she wanted to see him with a lady. He was a skillful lover, they said. He was Eliza’s favorite, the lady admitted herself. The rumor had it, she was more than attracted to him, in love, actually, and no other man could please her better, and Eliza had a taste of many.

  There was a knock at the door and Krissy behind it again.

  “Miss, you should come,” Krissy said again.

  What was it about this girl that she was so insistent? May rolled her eyes and sighed.

  “Miss Eliza is tipsy, and when she is like that, he does things that…” Krissy sneered and covered her grinning mouth with her hand.

  May gave up. The things she had seen in the last several days already sent her mind in all kinds of curious directions. Was she, May, being ruined by this brothel, or was it natural for a young woman to get so excited with desire?

  The senses overwhelmed any notion of propriety, and she promised herself that she would take a quick look and flee. Just a glance. Just to see Lord Ashbee again. As if the sense of danger spurred her curiosity.

  Right at the door to the dark corridor, Krissy handed her the lamp.

  “I will be right back, Miss,” she said and, before May could object, disappeared around the corner.

  May fought an uneasy feeling but stepped inside the darkness and closed the door behind her.

  There was a knock at the door in one of the rooms, then voices. She moved in their direction, then saw the light oozing from one of the holes, set the lamp on the floor, and leaned to take a closer look.

  The room was of the same design—a bed to the left, a bureau by the wall right beneath the peephole, a chair next to it, a sofa and a coffee table by the opposite wall. The room was well-lit with the oil sconces attached to the wall, and May could see everything as if it was daylight.

  Lord Ashbee and Eliza were alone in the middle of the room. Lord Ashbee was wearing trousers and an unbuttoned white shirt. He stood behind Eliza, murmuring something in her ear and slowly slipping the camisole down to her waist, exposing her upper body. The woman’s breasts were perfect. His hands slid up to them from behind and caressed them gently. Her hair was loose and swung gracefully across one shoulder, covering one of her breasts, but Lord Ashbee pulled it back, fully exposing her front.

  May felt a pang of envy observing the perfect body. She knew she should leave, but curiosity got the best of her. She wanted to see the rest of Eliza and understand why Lord Ashbee preferred her over the rest of the girls. More than anything, May had to admit, she wanted to see Lord Ashbee naked. So she kept watching as he untied Eliza’s skirts and the undergarments and let them fall onto the floor.

  Eliza was, indeed, beautiful. As May’s eyes followed her figure down to her intimate parts, she was shocked to discover that Eliza had no hair down there. How? She heard, of course, of such practices of women plucking it completely bare but had never seen it even on pictures, and now she studied the girl’s intimate part that looked like that of a little girl.

  Eliza raised her arms to tangle them into the man’s hair behind her while he continued to kiss her neck and play with her breasts.

  Oh, how different his kisses were! Nothing like the greedy, lustful slurps of other men! May watched him, fascinated, and felt aroused, started breathing heavily, observing his lips that moved softly along Eliza’s neck, his fingers that caressed her skin. He started gently pushing Eliza forward, guiding her towards the desk at the wall behind which May stood barely breathing. Finally, they were so close, that May could hear their breathing, could see the moles on Eliza’s body, could see every movement of the man’s fingers.

  For just a second, Lord Ashbee turned his face towards the peephole, and for a moment, it seemed to May that he looked at her. She pushed off the wall and stood with her mouth gaping, afraid to move, afraid to breathe. She could still flee, leave, run back to the room before she was discovered, but she was afraid that her movements would make noise, so she pressed her eye to the peephole again.

  Lord Ashbee was kissing and nibbling at Eliza’s ear, his hands slid to her abdomen, getting closer to the intimate part.

  “Tell me what you want,” he said in a low husky voice, and May shivered at the sound, saw his grin, his tongue like a tiny snake playing with the woman’s earlobe.

  “I want you to stroke my cunt,” Eliza answered, eyes closed. From behind, Lord Ashbee hooked his hand under her right knee, lifted her leg, and set her foot on the chair, then pulled that same knee open, fully exposing her private parts. His hand then slid down between Eliza’s legs and started stroking her sex.

  Eliza moaned in pleasure and threw her head back onto the man’s shoulder. On the other side of that wall, May gasped and felt such intense burning between her legs that she thought she would explode. The couple was just two yards away from her, as if on purpose. She could see all the shameless details, Lord Ashbee’s fingers and how they moved up and down and circled the clitoris that glistened with wetness, how that sent convulsions down Eliza’s body, how the woman squirmed in his arms pushing her genitals against his fingers.

  May was breathing hard, aroused by the view and the closeness of the action, but bit her bottom lip and kept watching, hypnotized. The man’s hands suddenly withdrew, and he fumbled with his trousers, obscured by the woman’s body, then bent his knees and pushed into Eliza, making her gasp. He was taking her from behind, May realized in shock! Eliza’s mouth gaped open in a loud moan, and the two bodies started moving in sync as if attached at the hips.

  Lord Ashbee! There was a sort of animalistic grace in him, May thought. The way his hands handled Eliza’s body, how he kissed her. May couldn’t take her eyes off them, watching greedily with increasing arousal, her mouth open.

  But just then, to her and Eliza’s surprise, Lord Ashbee stepped back, pulled up his trousers, said, “Wait here,” and started walking quickly towards the door.

  Eliza whipped around. “What happened, love?” she called out to him, but Lord Ashbee was gone. Mildly irritated, she flung herself onto the bed and splayed on top of the sheets, waiting.

  May pulled her face away from the peephole and stood puzzled for a minu
te, her eyes still wide from all she had seen. What happened next happened so quickly that she didn’t have time to run, or hide, or even realize what was going on. She heard the quick, quiet footsteps somewhere, then a waft of air, turned to see the door of the corridor fling open and a tall figure appear in the darkness. She gasped in surprise, thinking for a second that it was Krissy. But the figure was taller and broader, and within seconds—it was close to her, emerging into the dim light of the lamp, pulled her by the waist, dragged her further from the hole, flung the two arms up to the wall, and trapped her in between them. She lifted her face to see Lord Ashbee’s malicious smile and his dark, devilish eyes inches from her.

  “Well, hello, finally,” he said quietly, and May thought she would faint.

  It’s as if the gravest danger descended upon her. Her heart was beating like a trapped bird, her pulse was in her temples, her eyes were wide from horror, and she pressed her back and hands tightly towards the wall as if it could save her.

  Lord Ashbee lowered his gaze to her heaving breasts and back to her eyes.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked in a low voice and studied May’s scared face.

  She trembled.

  How did this happen?

  Her mind fluttered with panic.

  How did he know?

  Was it a setup?

  She lowered her eyes and flushed in embarrassment though he couldn’t see it in the dim light.

  “Are you enjoying the evening?” he smiled and shifted even closer to her, now feeling the movement of her chest with his bare one.

  He was so close that May could feel his warm breath as he spoke, could smell the mix of cigarettes, spirits, sweat, and a woman’s perfume, Eliza’s. She tried not to look at him, but when she looked down, she could see his unbuttoned white shirt, bare chest, and skin inches away from her dress. She turned her head, still panting, but there was nowhere to look to avoid his body.

  “Did you like what you saw, sweetheart?” he asked again quietly. His one hand left the wall and moved to her hair, caressing one of the strands. May jerked away, but there was nowhere to run. She was trapped by his arms, his body.

  “Did you?” he insisted. “You can tell me, don’t be afraid.”

  “Let me go,” she said meekly and lifted her hand to push his away, but he was like a rock and didn’t intend to move.

  “Ah!”—he smiled—“Too proud to admit your secret desires.” She was so close to him that he felt his member, already awaken by the action in the bedroom, swell up again. She was like a little bird trapped in his hands, and he didn’t want to let her go—he wanted to play with her.

  “I don’t have desires,” she said with embarrassment.

  He arched an eyebrow.

  “Too proud to admit it but not too proud to spy on me…”

  May didn’t have an answer. She was ashamed. There was no way out either. This vicious man had set a trap, and there was nothing she could do.

  There was something else. She was on edge, but it wasn’t just because of being caught. Part of it was the closeness of his body, the scent of him.

  “Would you like to join us?” Lord Ashbee grinned again, his face even closer to her.

  “Let me go,” she said, feeling helpless next to him.

  “Tsk-tsk-tsk. Just like that?” His fingers slowly shifted away from her hair, gently took her chin and turned her face towards his.

  He touched her!

  Her heart jolted in shock, but she didn’t dare move, just kept her eyes down.

  “Look at me,” he said, and she obeyed, her heart pounding with fright. She met his eyes, and it was all over again, the surge of energy as if he was pulling her in.

  And he was.

  He lowered his face, and his lips were suddenly on hers, parting them softly but insistently. His warm tongue slid into her mouth, and for a brief moment, May felt lost, gave in to the tidal wave of his desire, answering with her own, but suddenly pushed him away.

  “You…” she gasped, wanted to say something terrible, appalled by such behavior, for no other man in her life had ever touched her without her permission.

  “Shhhh,” he whispered, “you don’t want anyone to discover us, do you?”—he nodded in the direction of the rooms.

  May lowered her face and shook her head. It was all a bad dream—this sinister man here, in this dark, dusty space, his arms on her, his lips on her a moment ago—it couldn’t be happening!

  “What are we going to do, sweetheart?” his voice again as if it came from the darkness.

  May didn’t know the answer. She needed to run from the man, from this place, but she ran already, and this was where she was supposed to be safe.

  She looked up at Lord Ashbee and searched his face for the answer, then looked at his slightly parted lips, and a crazy thought shot like an arrow through her head—she wanted those lips again.

  “Don’t push me away,” he whispered, the sound of his words so intimate and alive in the darkness that May could almost feel them caress her.

  She didn’t.

  She couldn’t.

  Lord Ashbee’s hand slid along her neck, his other arm left the wall and wrapped, like a snake, around her waist, and in the next moment, he was kissing her again.

  Slowly.

  Deeply.

  She let his body press against hers and realized she was kissing him back. It felt divine to be in his arms, as if a warm force enveloped her entire body, every inch of her, and lifted her in the air. His sensual mouth explored hers, his tongue, soft and warm, sent tremors down her nerves. She needed to push him away, but her body said otherwise, wanting to give in to him this very moment.

  Suddenly—the sound of fast steps and a door opening somewhere, and the voice called the man’s name.

  Eliza!

  May pushed away from Lord Ashbee in shock and gazed at him in despair. She heard the sound of the closing door and Eliza’s impatient padding on the floor.

  May turned her face away from Lord Ashbee, and her hands pressed on his arms, trying to free her.

  “I have to go,” she said, her voice barely audible.

  “You don’t have to,” he whispered into her ear and kissed it gently. “Don’t run”—his lips so soft on her cheek—“don’t be afraid”—his lips close to hers, his words hypnotizing, droving her crazy.

  She trembled.

  “Please,” she begged and looked up at him.

  Though she answered his kiss just seconds ago, he saw fright in her eyes.

  Oh, you sweet thing, he thought. So young and so…innocent.

  The sudden wave of arousal in his trousers was almost painful.

  God, what did he have to do to get this precious creature!

  “Please,” she repeated in a whisper, gently pushed his arms away, and this time, they did give way. She freed herself, and before he could touch her again, or said anything else, before she gave in again to this madding desire, she flitted away like a bird into the darkness of the hallway.

  Lord Ashbee smirked and stayed for a minute with his hands on the wall, thinking about his plan of action and feeling unusual arousal. He looked down to the floor and noticed the gas-lamp that May left behind. He could go to her room, he already knew where it was, but that was too easy, too soon. He liked playing games, so be it.

  He couldn’t stop smiling, remembering the young woman and how she trembled in his arms, how easily she opened up to his kisses. His body tensed up in desire, picturing what could’ve been.

  Back in the room, Eliza was furious, started scolding him as if he wasn’t the one paying for her. He attacked her with passion, releasing the tension that had built up, and reached the climax as soon as he thought of the mysterious girl in front of him instead of Eliza. He lay on the bed for another ten minutes, disregarding the brunette’s talk and inquiries as to where he had disappeared. He was overcome by strange agitation at the thought that May was just several rooms away from him. The thought nagged at him, he wonde
red what she was doing, whether she thought about him or would flee to save her precious virginity.

  Ah, humans! How carefully they protected their true nature and how easy it was to uncover it! Once you did, it was a sure road to success. One push—and the person found out what he or she was. Two—and the person got the taste of it. Three—and there was no stopping the shameless desires.

  Lord Ashbee lay on the bed, enjoying Eliza’s caresses. His thoughts were about the new soon-to-be ruined soul, but all he could smell was his prostitute’s perfume. It annoyed him. He wanted the scent of May, the musky faintly sweet odor of innocence mixed with the fear in her eyes. The thought that she was in one minute’s reach was intoxicating. In his mind, he could see her in his arms, opening up, giving in to his body. Ah! The thought drove him crazy!

  He felt aroused again, but to end the madness, he dressed, and, despite Eliza’s protest, left the Belle House. On nights like this, when he needed a distraction, he usually drank and talked.

  —————

  May bolted the door, pulled the curtains shut and paced, trembling all over her body, around the room.

  He had touched her!

  He had kissed her!

  How dared he!

  She fixed the strands of her hair as if they gave away what had just happened. Then walked to the desk and straightened the books. Then noticed that one of them was the collection of scandalous illustrations and dropped it like it set her hands on fire. Her arms hugged the waist, and she kept pacing around, throwing occasional glances at the door. She could hear the loud voices and moans coming from other rooms, but was afraid to hear the steps which could mean that he, Lord Ashbee, was following her.

  It would be a disaster!

  She closed her eyes and recalled the events.

  Him cornering her.

  Stroking her face, her chin.

  His fingers!

  His lips on her!

  May’s eyes flew open, and she gasped at the sinking sensation that overwhelmed her. She wanted to loath the man that violated her. Yet, her mind was in shock from the realization that her body reacted so intensely to his touch.