of her body against her hand, though she never touched herself at all.
She looked at her captor, confusion filling her.
"You must do this every morning and every night," he instructed. "To yourself if I cannot be here to assist you." Her hand was still held before her, a bare inch away from her skin. "But whatever you do, do not touch yourself here." He took hold of her hand, tilting it so that it cupped but did not touch her nipple. "This is your peak."
And as he said the words, her hand jerked, pushing forward toward the tip of her breasts. It had not been her intention to do so, and yet she now knew that was what she wanted. That was where she wished to be touched.
"Do not do it!" he ordered. "It will damage the work that we have already done." She looked up at him as his eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Do you have the discipline to do this? To keep yourself from touching there? Or must I chain your hands away?"
She pulled back in horror. "Do not chain me!"
"Then listen to what I say."
She nodded, her breasts feeling full and heavy and aching for the very thing he had just denied her.
"I will return tonight. I do not think you can be trusted."
She straightened, insulted by the implication. "I—"
"Fu De will watch you during the day. Look for me this evening, and we will continue." Then he abruptly drew her robe back around her, careful to prevent the fabric from touching her aching breasts. He couldn't prevent it entirely, but what little did touch made her feel all the worse. She could feel the fabric about her, so close, so cool and silky. And yet she already knew that such a whisper of touch would not be enough. She wished for more.
Evening could not come fast enough. To her shame, she desperately wanted to return to what they had been doing. And that thought horrified her more than anything else.
She was a good English girl, raised to be chaste and modest. What was she thinking, what was she doing to so want a Chinese man to touch her like that? To do to her... what?
Her body tingled in excitement, and her mind rebelled at her own eagerness. She was a captive, she reminded herself. A prisoner. Her only hope was to watch for a moment when she could escape, when she could rush outside and on to find Maxwell.
And yet, as the outer door shut behind the dragon... What was his name? Ru Shan. As the door shut behind Ru Shan and Fu De came to stand in her doorway, watching her, Lydia could only think over her strange morning and her bizarre experiences. What was happening to her?
Worse, if she was in such turmoil after one such session with Ru Shan, what would she be like by the time she was finally able to escape?
From the letters of Mei Lan Cheng
3 February, 1862
Dearest Li Hua—
A son! A son! I have given birth to a son! And such a handsome boy he is that all say he takes after his father. They have even named him Ru Shan for "steadiness as a mountain." This may seem odd to you, but you do not understand my mother-in-law. My husband is a handsome man, full of life and vigor. With my designs, the Chengs have prospered greatly.
But not so greatly as one might expect.
My husband loves his friends almost as much as he loves his customers. His father tries to moderate the damage, but Sheng Fu's temper is easily unleashed, and he is a large man with heavy fists. As he is the one who brings in the customers, he rules even over his parents.
And so, when my son was born with a face so like his father's, my parents-in-law named him Ru Shan for steadiness. He will be the Chengs' hope for a wealthy old age.
What they do not know is that I have already made offerings for the child before the ancestors and at the monastery. I escaped one day when I was supposed to be buying vegetables. Instead, I rushed to the monastery and gave them all the money I had saved from our food. You know how excellent a bargainer I am, so it was quite a lot of money.
They promised me that the boy will be a great
She looked at her captor, confusion filling her.
"You must do this every morning and every night," he instructed. "To yourself if I cannot be here to assist you." Her hand was still held before her, a bare inch away from her skin. "But whatever you do, do not touch yourself here." He took hold of her hand, tilting it so that it cupped but did not touch her nipple. "This is your peak."
And as he said the words, her hand jerked, pushing forward toward the tip of her breasts. It had not been her intention to do so, and yet she now knew that was what she wanted. That was where she wished to be touched.
"Do not do it!" he ordered. "It will damage the work that we have already done." She looked up at him as his eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Do you have the discipline to do this? To keep yourself from touching there? Or must I chain your hands away?"
She pulled back in horror. "Do not chain me!"
"Then listen to what I say."
She nodded, her breasts feeling full and heavy and aching for the very thing he had just denied her.
"I will return tonight. I do not think you can be trusted."
She straightened, insulted by the implication. "I—"
"Fu De will watch you during the day. Look for me this evening, and we will continue." Then he abruptly drew her robe back around her, careful to prevent the fabric from touching her aching breasts. He couldn't prevent it entirely, but what little did touch made her feel all the worse. She could feel the fabric about her, so close, so cool and silky. And yet she already knew that such a whisper of touch would not be enough. She wished for more.
Evening could not come fast enough. To her shame, she desperately wanted to return to what they had been doing. And that thought horrified her more than anything else.
She was a good English girl, raised to be chaste and modest. What was she thinking, what was she doing to so want a Chinese man to touch her like that? To do to her... what?
Her body tingled in excitement, and her mind rebelled at her own eagerness. She was a captive, she reminded herself. A prisoner. Her only hope was to watch for a moment when she could escape, when she could rush outside and on to find Maxwell.
And yet, as the outer door shut behind the dragon... What was his name? Ru Shan. As the door shut behind Ru Shan and Fu De came to stand in her doorway, watching her, Lydia could only think over her strange morning and her bizarre experiences. What was happening to her?
Worse, if she was in such turmoil after one such session with Ru Shan, what would she be like by the time she was finally able to escape?
From the letters of Mei Lan Cheng
3 February, 1862
Dearest Li Hua—
A son! A son! I have given birth to a son! And such a handsome boy he is that all say he takes after his father. They have even named him Ru Shan for "steadiness as a mountain." This may seem odd to you, but you do not understand my mother-in-law. My husband is a handsome man, full of life and vigor. With my designs, the Chengs have prospered greatly.
But not so greatly as one might expect.
My husband loves his friends almost as much as he loves his customers. His father tries to moderate the damage, but Sheng Fu's temper is easily unleashed, and he is a large man with heavy fists. As he is the one who brings in the customers, he rules even over his parents.
And so, when my son was born with a face so like his father's, my parents-in-law named him Ru Shan for steadiness. He will be the Chengs' hope for a wealthy old age.
What they do not know is that I have already made offerings for the child before the ancestors and at the monastery. I escaped one day when I was supposed to be buying vegetables. Instead, I rushed to the monastery and gave them all the money I had saved from our food. You know how excellent a bargainer I am, so it was quite a lot of money.
They promised me that the boy will be a great
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