Maylily - Chapter 55

Amid the reddish glow that colored the platform of Roden Station, a gray whistle echoed. The train that had departed from Cereno Station yesterday morning soon came to a complete stop on the tracks.

Hugh, stepping down from the carriage where the first-class compartments were arranged, looked as neat and composed as if he were about to attend a party.

Behind him followed his personal attendant and two aides, taking graceful steps in time with his long strides. The rest of the staff had stayed behind in Cartia to assist David and the management team.

Despite the small entourage, the dignified authority that radiated from Hugh’s expression and movements drew the crowd’s attention. The thronging masses parted like waves, clearing the way before them.

Upon leaving the station, two carriages stood waiting along the boulevard lined with trees. David had arranged them in advance; one of them was a simple carriage without the family crest.

“Thank you all for your hard work. Return to the mansion first.”

Leaving the bowing attendants behind, Hugh boarded that carriage. The sun was setting brilliantly over the street as the wheels began to turn.

As the dazzling light streamed through the window, Hugh closed his eyes and leaned his head back, letting out a shallow sigh.

“It seems Victor Heywood has gone to find Miss Aile.”

Since hearing David’s report the day before, he hadn’t been able to shake the feeling of being chased by something unseen. He had even hurried home on a night train, though he normally disliked traveling overnight due to his light sleep.

It wasn’t impatience over the fear that the revenge he had spent years preparing would crumble. Hugh was certain he already held the card that would destroy Victor Heywood’s last remaining asset.

He had already shared with Maylily everything about her body—the shape of her breasts, the curve of her navel, even the color of her hair below. There was no longer any meaning in debating the question of her purity, not after she had moaned all night beneath his hands.

Furthermore, by exposing their relationship of patronage and exploiting the suspicions that would follow, he could easily turn it into a scandal that would crush her value completely.

No member of noble society would willingly embrace the disgrace of marrying such a woman.

His revenge, therefore, was certain to succeed.

And yet, Hugh couldn’t understand the unease and impatience that kept breaking through his composure. The strange emotion he felt was like an extension of what he had first sensed on the train leaving Riverton for Cartia.

Was it because he hadn’t truly possessed her?

Pushing aside that crude thought, Hugh slowly opened his eyes and muttered to himself with quiet self-derision. At this rate, he was no different from the pathetic Patrick Cheshire, whose lust ruled over him. The thought made him nearly disgusted with himself.

But for that very reason, he had to see this wretched desire through to its end tonight. Only then could he free himself from this abnormal state.

The only uncertainty was whether Maylily had met Victor Heywood.

Had she spoken the name Everscourt to her father? And had Heywood told her about the past tied to that name?

If she had heard it—if she had learned the truth—what kind of expression would she wear when she faced him again?

As his thoughts wandered, Hugh recalled the image of the woman shyly saying she wanted to go to the sea with him. That small, radiant smile, like sunlight, would probably never be directed at him again.

When such uncharacteristically sentimental thoughts crossed his mind, the carriage came to a stop. Turning his head slowly toward the window, Hugh saw the gray building come into view. It was the apartment where Maylily lived.

Arriving at last in front of her home, Hugh quietly lowered the knocker he had been holding. He didn’t want to make a sound that might alert her and give her a chance to avoid or flee from him.

Taking a key from his coat pocket, he opened the door. A dim, misty hallway appeared before him. In the stillness of the room, where the lights had not yet been turned on, the faint warmth of the woman lingered in the air.

Passing through the empty sitting room, Hugh stopped before the bedroom door. Feeling her presence beyond it, he knocked.

Knock, knock.

After a brief silence, when Hugh opened the door, what he faced was a woman whose face looked as if it would crumble at any moment, like a wilted flower. The answer to the question that had circled in his head throughout the journey here wasn’t far from what he expected.

Only, he hadn’t predicted the strange tightness in his chest that struck him the instant their eyes met.

“Maylily….”

From his tightly closed lips, a sigh-like voice escaped. At the low, cracked call, clear tears slid down the woman’s pale cheeks.

At that fragile shimmer, his heart reacted with a violent jolt, as if struck by a bullet. Startled by the sensation he hadn’t felt since the summer he was five, Hugh’s eyes widened slightly.

So, she’s found out the truth after all.

The thought that followed stirred a dark tide within his chest, and at that very moment, the woman ran forward and threw herself into his arms. Her shattered, glass-like eyes were filled entirely with him.

“Please… hold me, Count.”

Feeling the pounding of his heart echoing to his head, Hugh looked down at her quietly. Then, in her wounded, trembling eyes, he saw the same yearning that still shone toward him.

The turbulent waves in his chest stilled in an instant. And in that moment, Hugh realized. The black tide inside him was the fear of reaching the end with this woman.

It was a feeling he neither understood nor wanted to understand.

Maylily Aile.

Victor Heywood’s illegitimate daughter.

As if this lowly woman could mean anything to him.

Had suppressing his lust for too long damaged part of his brain? Swallowing a hollow laugh, Hugh wiped away Maylily’s tears and made a renewed vow to himself.

Tonight, he would pour everything into her without a single regret and end this relationship.

Despite the gentle touch that brushed her reddened eyelids, Hugh’s next movement was as rough as a crashing wave when he seized her lips. The inside of her lips, tasting faintly of salt, was sweet like ripened fruit.

Now she no longer needed to be taught; she instinctively wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him closer, her tongue clumsily seeking his in return.

Hugh crushed and drove against that timid, pitiful tongue, asserting his dominance. At every moment, control of this relationship had to belong solely to him.

With the intensity of one determined to consume her every breath, Hugh’s mouth moved violently, devouring the heat between them. His hands, freed from his discarded gloves and coat, began to strip away her clothing.

Outside, the light from the streetlamps filtered dimly through the balcony windows. The garments, brushed by that faint evening glow, rustled softly as they fell onto the carpet.

The Count of Everscourt, having stripped Maylily bare in an instant, pressed her backward until she lay on the bed, his hand cradling the back of her head.

The dark, looming shadow that mounted her covered her golden hair scattered over the white sheets. His mouth, seeking her greedily, pressed against her flushed eyes, while his other hand kneaded her full, swollen breast with a rough, hungry grip.

Their lips met in feverish rhythm, a trembling breath spilling between them. As if erasing the emptiness left by his absence, their reunion contained no greeting, no tender words—only the mingling of heat and breath that flowed as naturally as water.

As though time had leapt from the night of Maylily’s birthday to this very moment, everything in between slipped away from her consciousness. The scent of lilies of the valley thickened in the air.

“Haah….”

As the count’s lips slid down to her slender jaw, Maylily gasped for breath. His hot lips traced down her throat as though carving a path across her skin, his tongue brushing lightly over the small hollow of her collarbone.

At the ticklish touch, Maylily shivered, but his red tongue continued to glide downward until it reached the peak of her breast.

“Ugh….”

At the tingling sensation that spread across her sensitive skin, Maylily let out a faint moan and bit down on her swollen, red lips. The count, teasingly licking the round peak of her breast with his tongue before taking it into his mouth, lifted his gaze and locked eyes with her.

Unlike his usual languid expression, the tension at the corners of his eyes overflowed with suffocating sensuality. His pupils, fixed on Maylily, shone with dark, feverish light.

Maylily slowly raised her hands and gently cupped the man’s head. The warmth beneath her fingers felt as soft and tender as sunlight in spring.

Even if it would last only for a fleeting moment, having this noble, beautiful man in her arms felt like a dream. Her heart pounded as though it would burst, overwhelmed by the pleasure rising along her spine.

In Maylily’s embrace, the count devoured her breasts like a starving man. Spreading his tongue wide, he slowly savored the pale curves as if tasting them, then bit down repeatedly on the rosy tips.

Meanwhile, his large hand slid down her stomach and slipped into the damp heat between her thighs. Each time his long, knotted fingers brushed against her swollen bud, a lewd, wet sound echoed through the bedroom.

“Ah…!”

The pleasure that soared sharply upward twisted Maylily’s waist.