Damon Snow and the Nocturnal Lessons Read Online Free

but mayhap—”
    The look Benjamin granted Kendall could poison King George III himself. Kendall hardly noticed as he stared at the floor.
    As graceful as a feline, I stood and slid my arm around his waist. Price jumped, as if he had forgotten anyone else was in the room. I whispered into his ear, “Kendall is occupied. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind me?”
    Over my shoulder, I could see Rogers beaming like a lighthouse. “That’s me boy,” Rogers mouthed. I resisted giving him a dirty gesture.
    Price looked back to the Kendall, but Kendall just stared at the dirt, like Price had killed his puppy. And then fed it to him.
    I pinched my lips together. If anyone could survive him… Well, the question may be if he could survive me first.
    “Yes, that would be fine,” Price finally said without taking his eyes off Kendall.
    “Top room,” Benjamin said.
    Price was a big spender. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be on me. Well, Rogers had promised me a share of his blue ruin.
    I led him up the stairs, past the other rooms. Like other bawdy houses, Mother Dover’s house had been carved up into more bedrooms than any proper house ought to have. In proper houses like Byrne’s, and I would assume Price’s, the more important rooms and bedrooms were lower to the ground. No need for climbing all those stairs. But in Mother Dover’s house, the first floor was as open as the architecture allowed, with cots, sofas, and cushions arranged all around for Sunday nights, or for a quick pitch or other gathering.
    The higher one went, and the more privacy one gained, the more the rooms cost. A man could have me on that first floor for six pence. On the top floor, he’d have paid at least ten pounds. Of course, little of that crossed my palm.
    But men had to have their comforts. On the third floor, a scream erupted from behind a closed door. Price jumped and he looked at me. It wasn’t an entirely concerned look. I patted his hip. “That’s just Long,” I said, referring to another molly. I sensed the pair inside, Long panting and covered with semen. He always screamed. Apparently some culls liked that about him.
    Price looked back to the door. His tongue darted across his lip. Oh, Price liked that too. Perhaps Long would be gaining another regular customer.
    But for now, Price was my burden. We climbed the last set of stairs and I opened the door for him. The room wasn’t as posh as the parlour. It couldn’t be, not with the stucco around the fireplace. Carvings of a man thrusting into a woman’s mouth, a man being whipped by another woman, a woman being taken from behind… not really suitable for a molly house. I’d had more than one cull mention it. But that stucco was only a pence a tile from the factory, since half of the Covent Garden bawdy houses used it too, so Mother Dover had decided it would spruce up the place.
    Perhaps it would even fool the Bow Street Runners. Oh no, this couldn’t possibly be a molly house. They have naked women on the walls.
    The main feature of the room, the bed, was nicer than anyone could find in a molly house. Enough room for two grown men to lay next to each other, with clean sheets to boot. It couldn’t compare to Byrne’s bed, of course, but nothing in this molly house would ever compare.
    I sat Mr Price on the edge of the bed and knelt before him. His eyes widened. I examined his expression. My hand went to his thigh. What would a man like him want from me?
    The curse of my nature didn’t extend far enough to glean inside his head, or perhaps I already knew and didn’t need to be told over and over again. Price needed to fuck something. The methods, the equipment, it didn’t matter as long as I ended up filled with his semen. Or perhaps covered.
    On the floor below, I could feel as much as hear Long get started again with his client, and hoped he received a bloody lip for it. We only got paid for one roll in the sack.
    Price heard it too, or he had started to enjoy my subservience to