Page 9 of Duke of Chaos

“I have a list of potential partners that I am trying to secure who are a bit apprehensive about joining me. There is a ball coming up, at which one of these prospective partners will be in attendance with his wife. If you can persuade her to convince her husband that I am more gentleman than devil and accept a meeting with me, I will accept your proposal.”

“Yes,” she agreed, the word flying from her mouth before he even finished his sentence. “Yes, I accept your offer.”

Relief flooded through her, happy that he had not pushed his earlier suggestion further. Still, she did not want to give him any time to bring it back up or change his mind about his offer. She gathered up her cloak from her chair and pulled it over her shoulders.

“Just send me the name of the woman you need me to convince and where she will be,” she requested, her eyes on her trembling hands as she tried to tie the ribbon at her neck.

The trembling stopped the moment Ezra’s hands slid over hers, and Lydia’s breath caught as her eyes darted up to look at him. He appeared as impassive as ever as he moved her hands down, then brought his own back up to securely tie her cloak’s ribbon strings around her neck. His fingers, so steady and gentle, took their time forming the knot and drew it into a perfect bow.

Something warm and delicious unfurled inside of her as his fingers moved from the ribbon to her neck, and she gasped at his touch. She waited, breathless, for him to wrap his hand around her throat and crush it. After all, he was Ezra Fernside, and his pleasure for cruel games was widely known.

But the crushing and the gasping under his ruthless grasp never came. Instead, he reverently stroked along the column of her throat as though fascinated by how she was formed. Her thoughts went blank as his thumb massaged against her pulsing vein and she felt her body sway forward into him. The cracklingof the fireplace and other sounds of the room went silent as a throbbing began in her lower belly. It spread with each new beat, rising until it met her ears, and it was all she could hear.

“I like that you did not agree to take your clothes off,” he rasped, his tone no more expressive than usual. “It tells me many things about you.”

Despite the new, pleasurable pulsing in her body, Lydia blushed; feeling conflicted about being pleased at passing his test and furious at being secretly tested in the first place.

“If there are any more tests in the future, Your Grace, I prefer you not trick me into them,” she replied, her voice low and slightly shaky.

At this, Ezra bowed his head toward her.

“Noted,” he replied.

For an instant, when his eyes met hers again, Lydia was certain he was about to kiss her. Then his hand vanished from her throat, and he was suddenly at the door, holding it open for her.

“I shall send you the details of my target first thing in the morning. The event is a ball at the Earl of Leeds Mayfair estate on Thursday evening. See you then.”

His voice was back to its usual lifeless tone and his deadened expression had slipped back into place so perfectly that Lydiawondered if he had ever actually changed it in the first place. Her first footsteps toward the door felt strangely awkward, as though she was not completely in her body, but by the time she’d reached the threshold she had regained her stride and her senses.

The Earl of Leeds ball. Yes. She and Juliet had already confirmed their attendance.

“See you then, Your Grace,” she managed to say in a smooth, unflustered tone.

As she passed him, though, she could have sworn she could once again feel that low, deep throb and nearly stumbled through the door.

CHAPTER THREE

“You were quite the beast tonight, Your Grace” Maria panted, still sprawled out and exhausted on her bed. “More so than usual. What has gotten into you?”

Her words came out in slow, uneven breaths; her depleted body still trying to recover from what Ezra had done to her. He had been ruthless with his possession of the paramour’s body in every way possible. They had paired before and when he had walked up to her in the gaming hell hours earlier, her eyes had lit up with desire. She knew what he wanted and had all but pleaded with him to take it from her.

Pulling his black shirt back over his muscled shoulders, Ezra looked over at Maria and agreed that she deserved an answer to her question. Normally he left a few marks on her buttocks and breasts, yes, but this evening had been different. His red, defined handprints marked the flesh of her backside, inner thighs, and breasts. His fingerprints had left a ring around her plump, now obviously sore throat and her wrists and ankles were red and bruised from the restraints.

“I overdid it,” Ezra stated matter-of-factly, but Maria laughed at him softly and let her head loll back among the pillows once more, her tight black curls springing everywhere.

“That is not what I asked, Your Grace,” she responded, writhing on the bed like a cat as she smiled up at him. “You know that I enjoy the…firmerside of things, especially with you.”

“But?” Ezra asked, more out of politeness than interest.

Maria nibbled her poor, bruised lower lip, marked by his teeth and other parts of him.

“It is just, you are normally not this…passionate about it.”

Ezra arched a brow.

“Excuse me?”

“You are ordinarily so distant, like a physician performing a procedure. Cold. Detached. But this evening you were…you were like a wildfire. Consuming. Scorching. You burned me from the inside out as though you wanted to etch a permanent brand upon me.”

---