He moved to unbuckle my corset. “No buttons?” he asked. Puzzled, he eyed the corset with great interest.
Guiding his hand, I set it on the small metal rosette at the center of the corset between my breasts. “Press down.”
When he did, the mechanism inside released and the corset fell open. At once, I was topless.
“Now, that is amazing,” he said, spreading his hands wide.
“A friend designed it for me. I think it will become fashionable.”
“If men have anything to say about it, indeed.” He lifted a sugar cube off the tray and licked it once, rubbing it on my nipples. He then nuzzled my breasts as he pulled off my belt.
I slid out of my pants and pulled the corset aside. I helped Byron unbutton his vest and pulled off the blousy white shirt that lay beneath. Moments later his boots and pants were off too.
Byron was an infamous lover, and I think many wondered at the relationship between us. It was not that I was so beautiful, so smart, or so alluring that enchanted him. What Byron liked best about me was that I knew what he wanted-it was the same thing I wanted.
I grabbed my belt and pushed Byron down on the cot. He smiled at me. With a wink, I grabbed his hands and belted them together, cinching the belt tightly to the post. I straddled his waist. Then I leaned in and kissed him deeply. I sat back up. We were locked into a deep stare; then, I hit him hard. Blood leaked from the corner of his mouth. He stuck his tongue out and tasted it.
“Again,” he whispered.
I did as he asked, again and again. When tears of pain finally came to his eyes, I stuck him inside me and rode him hard. After I untied him, he grabbed my breasts roughly, squeezing the nipples until I cried out. He was good, knowing just how and when to raise and lower his hips. The first moments were strikingly clear but then the rest became a blur of flesh and feeling. I remember untying him, being flipped on my stomach, and the sharp feel of a lash on my ass, but after that everything else was hazy.
I woke an hour or so later to find Byron lying beside me looking into the kaleidoscope. My post-opium head was already starting to ache.
“Where did you get this?” he asked, turning it.
“The harlequin passed it to me before he jumped.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” I replied. I sat up and opened the curtain. “Miss O?” I called.
I could see from the open skylight that it was dark outside. An airship passed over; it was a passenger transport.
“Baby, your lip is bleeding,” Miss O said when she came up to me. She handed me a handkerchief.
“Thanks. Can you bring some water?”
“Of course,” she replied and walked away.
I leaned back in and blotted the blood from my lip. Byron smiled apologetically, but I shrugged. I noticed he had a dark ring under his eye. I said nothing.
“Did the harlequin say anything?” Byron asked, rolling over.
I looked at his naked body. I loved making love to him, but there was something so endearing about seeing Byron naked and unaroused that moved me. It almost made the great Lord Byron seem vulnerable.
“He asked if I was Lily, told me to go to Venice, and stuck this in my trousers.”
Byron half laughed, half grunted. “When are you leaving?”
“I cannot afford a holiday to Venice, my Lord,” I said jokingly, taking the kaleidoscope from his hands.
I put it to my eye again. Once more, I was treated to the beautiful colors.
“What about your prize money?”
“Used immediately to settle my debts. I still have to hawk the trophy; the money from that will cover most of the Stargazer’s expenses with a few crowns left over to feed myself. But I need to take fares and get ready for the next race.”
Byron looked at the kaleidoscope. “No. You should go. It is, after all, Venice,” he said, looking wistful, “a place where dying glory smiles. It is the perfect place for an escape. I have people there who can help you. I will arrange a place for you.”
I shook my head. “You already do too much for me. Besides, I have fares lined up starting tomorrow.”
“My secretary will cancel them. Do this, Lily.”
“Why?”
“Because this was given to you—specifically.”
“By some crazed racing fan. It probably means nothing.”
But both Byron and I knew it meant something, even if we were not sure what.
He took the kaleidoscope from my hands again and looked at the engraved symbols on the side. “Take it to Venice, to the clockworks in St. Mark’s Square. Someone will know what it is.”
I looked deeply at him, studying his handsome face as he examined the kaleidoscope. Every time I was with Byron, I felt a rush of excitement. While my stomach filled with girlish butterflies, my body ached for his rough embrace. I set my chin on his shoulder and inhaled deeply, breathing in his sweet scent.
He smiled wistfully at me then lifted the handkerchief and blotted my lip. “Lily,” he whispered fondly.
I reached out and stroked his cheek.
“Water,” Miss O called and handed in a serving platter.
Taking the tray, Byron uttered a distracted “Thank you.”
Miss O nodded but said nothing. God knows what she had heard or what she was thinking. With a sigh, Byron started pulling on his clothes. I handed him a glass of water which he drank greedily. Then he pulled on his boots.
“Now,” he said, and I could see that this was his goodbye, “I insist. Just go. Here,” he said, handing me his coin pouch, “take this. My secretary will meet you in the morning with another sum and my contacts, and he’ll settle with your customers.”
“George...” I began, but I was not sure what to say. I wanted to go, but I did not want to take his money.
He rose then and came to stand outside of the cot. “Oh yes, this too,” he said and handed me a bottle of amber colored laudanum. “For the trip. It takes the edge off. Trelawny found a great supplier. It’s the best I’ve had,” he said and leaned in. “Besides you,” he added and kissed me. “Write and let me know what you discover. And Lily, have fun,” he said with a sly grin then walked away.
“My lord...my lord,” Byron was greeted by others in the den as he passed. Moments later, he was gone.
I lay back on the cot. Opening the bottle, I tasted just a small drop of the laudanum. It was good. I looked at the kaleidoscope again. When I looked inside this time, however, I thought I saw, for just a moment, a strikingly beautiful woman—all in gold gazing at me.
I lowered the kaleidoscope then looked again. This time, I saw only colored glass. It was probably just the laudanum playing tricks on me. I lay back. What the hell. I would go.
Thank you
Thank you for reading Chasing Christmas Past. If you enjoyed this brief prequel and look into the life of airship racer Lily Stargazer, the main character of The Airship Racing Chronicles, you can find her complete story in Chasing the Star Garden and Chasing the Green Fairy.
You can find more information about this series here: MelanieKarsak.com
If you enjoyed the story, please consider telling your friends or posting a review. Word of mouth is an author’s best friend!
Thank you!
Acknowledgements
Thank you to Carrie Wells, Elyse Schramm, Margo Bond Collins, and Naomi Clewett for their assistance and support!
As always, thank you to my family for their endless encouragement.
About the Author
Melanie Karsak is the author of the bestselling series The Airship Racing Chronicles, The Harvesting Series, the Celtic Blood series, and numerous other works. She grew up in rural northwestern Pennsylvania and earned a Master's degree in English from Gannon University. A steampunk connoisseur, Shakespeare nerd, white elephant collector, and zombie whisperer, the author currently lives in Florida with her husband and two children. She is an Instructor of English at Eastern Florida State College.
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Also by Melanie Karsak
The Airship Racing Chronicles
Chasing Christmas Past: An Airship Racing Chronicles Short Story Prequel
Watch for more at Melanie Karsak’s site.
About the Author
Melanie Karsak is the author of the bestselling series The Airship Racing Chronicles, The Harvesting Series, The Celtic Blood Series, and numerous other works. She grew up in rural northwestern Pennsylvania and earned a Master's degree in English from Gannon University. A steampunk connoisseur, Shakespeare nerd, white elephant collector, and zombie whisperer, the author currently lives in Florida with her husband and two children. She is an Instructor of English at Eastern Florida State College.
Read more at Melanie Karsak’s site.
Chasing Christmas Past Page 4
