<b>Dear Mister Greenwald</b>
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Romance › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
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779
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Currently Reading:
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Category:
Romance › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
779
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Take Away My Misery
Chapter Two: Take Away My Misery
I could feel a hand beneath the back of my neck slowly pulling me away from my dark, dreamless slumber. I felt the soft touch of something against my mouth and cool water penetrated my lips. I swallowed with eagerness as the cool liquid brought me out of my haze.
At first, the face above me signified nothing but a blur in the sky; however, as I was slowly brought back to consciousness, I realized the face was that of Jonathon Greenwald. My confused yet shocked gaze enveloped my face as I pulled away from the cup he offered to my lips.
“Mister…Greenwald?” My voice was weak probably from the lack of use, or the crying I had…oh yes, Jonathon had saved me from my father. The day’s events were slowly coming back to me as I began to think more thoroughly with the passing of the haze clouding my mind. It was right at that moment that I realized that I was now pressed hard against the length of Jonathan’s body; his soothing hands followed the solemn path along the treacherous lashes on my backside through the thin cotton gown I was now wearing.
As soon as his hands found a particularly new wound, I cried out and pulled away from his embrace. I wanted nothing more than to hide within myself. The look in his eyes alone had me regretting my reaction already.
His eyes were glazed over and his breath stolen at my face. I held my breath as he did and watched him for what seemed as hours. Finally, his hand came to rest on my face and his eyes rested with mine.
“No longer will he touch you,” he said with almost too quiet voice. “I will not allow him to ever place another look on you as long as I live, my lady.”
The promise that fell from his lips brought the smallest of smiles to my face. Despite the pain I felt between my swollen thighs, I was happy to finally be rid of my father. It was at that moment that I realized that Jonathan would be something special in my life from this day forth. However many times I had said to myself that I would never love a man, I was finding it difficult not to see Jonathan in a better light.
When Jonathan had left what seemed to be my now permanent quarters, I rose from my chair to take a look at my abused face. The skin was tender around the right side of my face where my father had slapped me with deadly force. I touched my fingers over the bruised flesh and could not help but cringe at the pain that ensued soon after my fingers met flesh.
I removed my hand from the tender flesh and turned my gaze away from the abused person in the mirror. I could not quite focus on any one item, so I reserved myself to sitting at the bed and clearing my mind of what had taken place the night before. The way my father had forced me against the bed; the pain that had ripped away all cries from my throat; the feelings I would never be able to truly remove until my dying day.
I felt the familiar heat of the salt tears falling away from my eyes; no matter how I tried to forget the events, I still found my mind curled and infringed upon by them. My tears soon came more curtly and I pressed my hand over my mouth as I softly cried. I would not let Jonathan hear me. It was enough that I was imposing myself on him, let alone having to constantly burden him with my tears.
I heard the knob of the door turn and as soon as the sound came into my ears, my head flew up to meet the eyes of the man who had saved me from my horror. He stood there, blue eyes full with what could only be described as sympathy and worry, holding a platter of warmed food.
My small smile did nothing to reassure the moment as he moved towards me. I bit at the flesh of my swollen bottom lip out of habit, but found the pain to only to make the tears come easier as they had before.
“I…I apologize,” I began before he could speak. “I do not know what has gotten into me.” I tried to continue, but he pressed a warm hand to mine and tangled our fingers together with no effort. I looked to him and he returned my gaze silencing my silent apologies.
“Do not apologize, Danielle. I should be the one to apologize. Had I known that the rumors were true, I would have never allowed your father to harm you again.” He brought my hand to his lips and pressed a small, but reassuring kiss to the top of it. I could not help but smile at him as he did so. Never in my life had I met a man that would openly show affection since my father had often discouraged me from showing him affection at any one time.
I nodded my head slowly as he placed the platter of food beside me. He made a simple move to show it was there for my pleasure and that he would not be leaving. He sat nearest the bed in a chair at the right side and watched me as I lightly began to eat. My stomach surprisingly approved of more food than I had eaten in weeks, so by the time I was finished, every grain of food was gone from the platter.
Jonathan seemed pleased with my appetite since he took away the platter with a smile. He had said nothing of the night, and for that I was glad. I did not need to be reminded of what he saw. Today I would try to become somewhat happier as to save myself from complete depression.
I peered out from the door that I had deemed my room’s door, and looked onto what seemed to be an elegant corridor; the walls were painted in the finest gold, and were decorated amply along the vast expanse. I had to hold my mouth to the beauty; never in my years had I seen anything so beautiful. If this was just one hallway, then what did the rest of the mansion look like?
Before, I had found my finer dresses alongside the bed, presumably for my dressing. I knew that he could not get all that I owned from my father, so I would do with what I had. I had been brought up to show value, but when it came to money, my family had very little. I did with what I could, and made the best out of what I had. So as to say, I was no stranger to the idea of very little.
I had dressed myself in a fitting red gown that flowed from the center of my torso to the floor. I believe it is about time that I told you a little about myself; my name is Danielle Elizabeth Smith, just turned the age of seventeen. I am about sixty-eight inches (five foot, seven inches), and have what many refer to as a woman’s body; my chest is rather large comparable to other girls, my stomach smooth, and my hips broad with the “touch of a mother” as was once described to me by our house maiden Rose. I have long brown hair that has hints of gold along the thin strips and emerald eyes described to be as green as the grasses that grow near the strong side of the lake.
Of course right now, my skin is marred with bruises fit to an abused dog; however, when my skin is healed, I have a white paste color flesh that covers my entire body with no sun-kissed patches. As it is said, a woman that is pure of sin shall have no taste of discolor from her body; and of the woman that is as white as the brightest star, in her you shall find the most purity of all. My mother used to read to me from the excerpts of Thomas Wheatly a famous writer and poet.
“Miss Smith, good to see that you are awake.” A maid dressed in fine clothing approached me from the side. Her eyes traveled along my dress and she smiled with approval. “What a lovely dress; you do wear a dress like I have never seen, miss.”
I watched her examine the material, lightly touching over the fabric with the tips of her fingers. When she had discovered what she needed, she returned her gaze to mine and smiled once more bringing warmth to me. She reminded me much of my mother when she smiled; my mother did have one of the most amazing smiles. This woman too carried that same talent of the mouth.
I regarded her with a small curtsey and a short smile. She seemed happy with the gesture and took my arm in hers. “The master wishes to see you; he asked me to see that you saw him as soon as you were feeling well as he has much to discuss with you.” Her reassuring smile once more held my gaze with hers. How so she reminded me of my mother. This woman had an amazing way of making one feel comfortable.
“Of course, it is all I could do to thank Mister Greenwald for all of his kindness. It seems I have forgotten my manners and have yet to say thank you to him.” I did not speak as to what I would have to thank Jonathan for, but it seemed that the maid already knew of the past night’s events since the evidence was written very thoroughly on my face with bruises.
“If I am able to speak so boldly, miss,” I nodded to her in approval and she continued. “You look more beautiful than any woman I have come to know in my years; despite your physical markings, you shine like the golden sun.”
I felt the blush creep into my cheeks, and it was then that I felt a small laugh erupt from my throat. I held my hand to my mouth as to cease the act, but only found myself giggling like a deranged school girl who had just been told something quite humorous.
“You are too kind,” I said when the laughter had gone back from whence it came. “I do thank you for the compliment. It seems that even I was feeling the weight of the markings on my face. What is your name?”
She nodded her head and curtseyed before me, “My name is Elaine, miss. I am the Mister Greenwald’s first maiden in command. I have been with the boy since he was born.” She smiled as though thinking in the past, but drew out of it as she once more took my arm and began to lead me down a staircase.
The green-glass windows glimmered in the day’s light; their beauty throwing color over the white-paste walls. It was the most amazing sight I had seen since my mother’s eyes. The green that colored the walls was the same green that had entranced me from birth with my mother’s eyes. That same green was present in my eyes as I was given the soft touch and beauty from my mother. This was one of the many reasons that green was one of my favorite colors.
The stairs ended at a hard wood entrance hall and the beauty of the entire room was washed with sunshine that penetrated side windows of the villa. I had to hold my mouth shut to keep from gapping. Never in my life had I seen a house, or really anything as beautiful as this entrance hall. The walls were painted in an emerald green glazed over with a sky-blue touch. On the surface of the far wall, a picture of what looked like Jonathan and two young girls sat in chairs, faces drained of any emotion; they sat like dolls captured in time and I could not help but wonder if they had felt that way when the portrait was taken. The two young girls adjacent to him shared his eyes, and so I concluded that they must be family.
“Aw, Miss Smith, it is good to see that you are feeling well enough to join me this afternoon.” Jonathan had strolled in from a door that led to the land outside the house. He looked absolutely stunning with his clothes well-fitted to his muscular form and the small, visible part of his undershirt showing a blue that highlighted his enamoring eyes. His hands were tucked away in his pockets and his gaze fully on me.
I realized that I was staring and had yet to give an answer, so I cleared my throat and took a step forward. “Thank you so much Mister Greenwald for taking care of me in this time of need. I do not know what I would have done without your kindness, but if there is anything that I can do to repay such selflessness, then let your voice speak and I will do as best is to my ability.” My voice was soft against my throat and I could feel the rawness inside strain against the words being produced, yet I held my voice strong as to let no hesitation be heard passed my lips.
“While it is flattering that you are offering repayment for my supposed kindness, I will not allow anything done on my behalf; any man would have given his life to make you smile once more. I merely was there first,” he said as he moved forward to meet me in the middle of the entrance hall. I could feel his gaze on me; my heart began to beat profusely in my chest as I felt his hot breath touching over my face. “It is good, once again to say, that you are feeling better, Miss Smith.”
I looked up at him meeting those perilous sapphire depths. I held my breath for a moment and allowed myself a small touch to his face, “Then shall I show you with something a bit more personal, Mister Greenwald?” I could not believe my daring. I was never one to initiate anything spontaneous, but for reasons not known to me, Jonathan had made me feel things I had yet felt before.
“If you must,” he said with almost a smirk staining his lips.
Before I could think twice about my daring, I stood on the tips of my toes, closing my eyes along with the movement of my body, and brushed my lips over his. A spark of what felt like pure electricity touched between us, and within the moment, our lips were fused together in what could only be described as a heated kiss. His hands came to rest on the notch of my hips, gripping them somewhat firmly and pulling my body closer to his. I gasped in the small amount of time that his lips left mine, but as soon as the gasp had left my lips, Jonathan’s were firmly pressed against mine once more.
I felt my knees go weak, the muscle and bone no longer wanting to communicate with my brain. They buckled and I slowly slid down his body. Jonathan’s hands wrapped tightly around my waist and pulled me up to meet his lips once more.
I could not tell you how long we stood there, mouths moving over one another’s, teasing, licking, and feeling, but from the way it felt, only minutes passed. Finally, Jonathan pulled away and looked at me through his aroused gaze. I could see what it was he wanted; but before I could act, his gaze changed and he pushed me away from him. I could not begin to describe what I saw, but it seemed somewhere between regret and pure want.
“I must speak with you on the terms of your stay, Miss Smith.”
I could feel a hand beneath the back of my neck slowly pulling me away from my dark, dreamless slumber. I felt the soft touch of something against my mouth and cool water penetrated my lips. I swallowed with eagerness as the cool liquid brought me out of my haze.
At first, the face above me signified nothing but a blur in the sky; however, as I was slowly brought back to consciousness, I realized the face was that of Jonathon Greenwald. My confused yet shocked gaze enveloped my face as I pulled away from the cup he offered to my lips.
“Mister…Greenwald?” My voice was weak probably from the lack of use, or the crying I had…oh yes, Jonathon had saved me from my father. The day’s events were slowly coming back to me as I began to think more thoroughly with the passing of the haze clouding my mind. It was right at that moment that I realized that I was now pressed hard against the length of Jonathan’s body; his soothing hands followed the solemn path along the treacherous lashes on my backside through the thin cotton gown I was now wearing.
As soon as his hands found a particularly new wound, I cried out and pulled away from his embrace. I wanted nothing more than to hide within myself. The look in his eyes alone had me regretting my reaction already.
His eyes were glazed over and his breath stolen at my face. I held my breath as he did and watched him for what seemed as hours. Finally, his hand came to rest on my face and his eyes rested with mine.
“No longer will he touch you,” he said with almost too quiet voice. “I will not allow him to ever place another look on you as long as I live, my lady.”
The promise that fell from his lips brought the smallest of smiles to my face. Despite the pain I felt between my swollen thighs, I was happy to finally be rid of my father. It was at that moment that I realized that Jonathan would be something special in my life from this day forth. However many times I had said to myself that I would never love a man, I was finding it difficult not to see Jonathan in a better light.
When Jonathan had left what seemed to be my now permanent quarters, I rose from my chair to take a look at my abused face. The skin was tender around the right side of my face where my father had slapped me with deadly force. I touched my fingers over the bruised flesh and could not help but cringe at the pain that ensued soon after my fingers met flesh.
I removed my hand from the tender flesh and turned my gaze away from the abused person in the mirror. I could not quite focus on any one item, so I reserved myself to sitting at the bed and clearing my mind of what had taken place the night before. The way my father had forced me against the bed; the pain that had ripped away all cries from my throat; the feelings I would never be able to truly remove until my dying day.
I felt the familiar heat of the salt tears falling away from my eyes; no matter how I tried to forget the events, I still found my mind curled and infringed upon by them. My tears soon came more curtly and I pressed my hand over my mouth as I softly cried. I would not let Jonathan hear me. It was enough that I was imposing myself on him, let alone having to constantly burden him with my tears.
I heard the knob of the door turn and as soon as the sound came into my ears, my head flew up to meet the eyes of the man who had saved me from my horror. He stood there, blue eyes full with what could only be described as sympathy and worry, holding a platter of warmed food.
My small smile did nothing to reassure the moment as he moved towards me. I bit at the flesh of my swollen bottom lip out of habit, but found the pain to only to make the tears come easier as they had before.
“I…I apologize,” I began before he could speak. “I do not know what has gotten into me.” I tried to continue, but he pressed a warm hand to mine and tangled our fingers together with no effort. I looked to him and he returned my gaze silencing my silent apologies.
“Do not apologize, Danielle. I should be the one to apologize. Had I known that the rumors were true, I would have never allowed your father to harm you again.” He brought my hand to his lips and pressed a small, but reassuring kiss to the top of it. I could not help but smile at him as he did so. Never in my life had I met a man that would openly show affection since my father had often discouraged me from showing him affection at any one time.
I nodded my head slowly as he placed the platter of food beside me. He made a simple move to show it was there for my pleasure and that he would not be leaving. He sat nearest the bed in a chair at the right side and watched me as I lightly began to eat. My stomach surprisingly approved of more food than I had eaten in weeks, so by the time I was finished, every grain of food was gone from the platter.
Jonathan seemed pleased with my appetite since he took away the platter with a smile. He had said nothing of the night, and for that I was glad. I did not need to be reminded of what he saw. Today I would try to become somewhat happier as to save myself from complete depression.
I peered out from the door that I had deemed my room’s door, and looked onto what seemed to be an elegant corridor; the walls were painted in the finest gold, and were decorated amply along the vast expanse. I had to hold my mouth to the beauty; never in my years had I seen anything so beautiful. If this was just one hallway, then what did the rest of the mansion look like?
Before, I had found my finer dresses alongside the bed, presumably for my dressing. I knew that he could not get all that I owned from my father, so I would do with what I had. I had been brought up to show value, but when it came to money, my family had very little. I did with what I could, and made the best out of what I had. So as to say, I was no stranger to the idea of very little.
I had dressed myself in a fitting red gown that flowed from the center of my torso to the floor. I believe it is about time that I told you a little about myself; my name is Danielle Elizabeth Smith, just turned the age of seventeen. I am about sixty-eight inches (five foot, seven inches), and have what many refer to as a woman’s body; my chest is rather large comparable to other girls, my stomach smooth, and my hips broad with the “touch of a mother” as was once described to me by our house maiden Rose. I have long brown hair that has hints of gold along the thin strips and emerald eyes described to be as green as the grasses that grow near the strong side of the lake.
Of course right now, my skin is marred with bruises fit to an abused dog; however, when my skin is healed, I have a white paste color flesh that covers my entire body with no sun-kissed patches. As it is said, a woman that is pure of sin shall have no taste of discolor from her body; and of the woman that is as white as the brightest star, in her you shall find the most purity of all. My mother used to read to me from the excerpts of Thomas Wheatly a famous writer and poet.
“Miss Smith, good to see that you are awake.” A maid dressed in fine clothing approached me from the side. Her eyes traveled along my dress and she smiled with approval. “What a lovely dress; you do wear a dress like I have never seen, miss.”
I watched her examine the material, lightly touching over the fabric with the tips of her fingers. When she had discovered what she needed, she returned her gaze to mine and smiled once more bringing warmth to me. She reminded me much of my mother when she smiled; my mother did have one of the most amazing smiles. This woman too carried that same talent of the mouth.
I regarded her with a small curtsey and a short smile. She seemed happy with the gesture and took my arm in hers. “The master wishes to see you; he asked me to see that you saw him as soon as you were feeling well as he has much to discuss with you.” Her reassuring smile once more held my gaze with hers. How so she reminded me of my mother. This woman had an amazing way of making one feel comfortable.
“Of course, it is all I could do to thank Mister Greenwald for all of his kindness. It seems I have forgotten my manners and have yet to say thank you to him.” I did not speak as to what I would have to thank Jonathan for, but it seemed that the maid already knew of the past night’s events since the evidence was written very thoroughly on my face with bruises.
“If I am able to speak so boldly, miss,” I nodded to her in approval and she continued. “You look more beautiful than any woman I have come to know in my years; despite your physical markings, you shine like the golden sun.”
I felt the blush creep into my cheeks, and it was then that I felt a small laugh erupt from my throat. I held my hand to my mouth as to cease the act, but only found myself giggling like a deranged school girl who had just been told something quite humorous.
“You are too kind,” I said when the laughter had gone back from whence it came. “I do thank you for the compliment. It seems that even I was feeling the weight of the markings on my face. What is your name?”
She nodded her head and curtseyed before me, “My name is Elaine, miss. I am the Mister Greenwald’s first maiden in command. I have been with the boy since he was born.” She smiled as though thinking in the past, but drew out of it as she once more took my arm and began to lead me down a staircase.
The green-glass windows glimmered in the day’s light; their beauty throwing color over the white-paste walls. It was the most amazing sight I had seen since my mother’s eyes. The green that colored the walls was the same green that had entranced me from birth with my mother’s eyes. That same green was present in my eyes as I was given the soft touch and beauty from my mother. This was one of the many reasons that green was one of my favorite colors.
The stairs ended at a hard wood entrance hall and the beauty of the entire room was washed with sunshine that penetrated side windows of the villa. I had to hold my mouth shut to keep from gapping. Never in my life had I seen a house, or really anything as beautiful as this entrance hall. The walls were painted in an emerald green glazed over with a sky-blue touch. On the surface of the far wall, a picture of what looked like Jonathan and two young girls sat in chairs, faces drained of any emotion; they sat like dolls captured in time and I could not help but wonder if they had felt that way when the portrait was taken. The two young girls adjacent to him shared his eyes, and so I concluded that they must be family.
“Aw, Miss Smith, it is good to see that you are feeling well enough to join me this afternoon.” Jonathan had strolled in from a door that led to the land outside the house. He looked absolutely stunning with his clothes well-fitted to his muscular form and the small, visible part of his undershirt showing a blue that highlighted his enamoring eyes. His hands were tucked away in his pockets and his gaze fully on me.
I realized that I was staring and had yet to give an answer, so I cleared my throat and took a step forward. “Thank you so much Mister Greenwald for taking care of me in this time of need. I do not know what I would have done without your kindness, but if there is anything that I can do to repay such selflessness, then let your voice speak and I will do as best is to my ability.” My voice was soft against my throat and I could feel the rawness inside strain against the words being produced, yet I held my voice strong as to let no hesitation be heard passed my lips.
“While it is flattering that you are offering repayment for my supposed kindness, I will not allow anything done on my behalf; any man would have given his life to make you smile once more. I merely was there first,” he said as he moved forward to meet me in the middle of the entrance hall. I could feel his gaze on me; my heart began to beat profusely in my chest as I felt his hot breath touching over my face. “It is good, once again to say, that you are feeling better, Miss Smith.”
I looked up at him meeting those perilous sapphire depths. I held my breath for a moment and allowed myself a small touch to his face, “Then shall I show you with something a bit more personal, Mister Greenwald?” I could not believe my daring. I was never one to initiate anything spontaneous, but for reasons not known to me, Jonathan had made me feel things I had yet felt before.
“If you must,” he said with almost a smirk staining his lips.
Before I could think twice about my daring, I stood on the tips of my toes, closing my eyes along with the movement of my body, and brushed my lips over his. A spark of what felt like pure electricity touched between us, and within the moment, our lips were fused together in what could only be described as a heated kiss. His hands came to rest on the notch of my hips, gripping them somewhat firmly and pulling my body closer to his. I gasped in the small amount of time that his lips left mine, but as soon as the gasp had left my lips, Jonathan’s were firmly pressed against mine once more.
I felt my knees go weak, the muscle and bone no longer wanting to communicate with my brain. They buckled and I slowly slid down his body. Jonathan’s hands wrapped tightly around my waist and pulled me up to meet his lips once more.
I could not tell you how long we stood there, mouths moving over one another’s, teasing, licking, and feeling, but from the way it felt, only minutes passed. Finally, Jonathan pulled away and looked at me through his aroused gaze. I could see what it was he wanted; but before I could act, his gaze changed and he pushed me away from him. I could not begin to describe what I saw, but it seemed somewhere between regret and pure want.
“I must speak with you on the terms of your stay, Miss Smith.”