Page 33 of Duke of Chaos

“Normally I would send you back out there just like this: weak and stumbling; mind numbed and useless from pleasure,” he went on as he soothed some of her rebellious tendrils back into place, “But…seeing as we might have more work to do, this time I shall give you a moment to recover.”

Though it was out of Ezra’s normal character to stay with a woman after enjoying himself, he helped Lydia gather herself together. With an eye on the minute details, he fixed her skirts, tidied her hair, and teased her with their usual banter until she was laughing more and trembling less. He was quite pleasedwhen he pulled her back out into the hallway and found that she still shook slightly under his touch.

The art of tasting a woman was something he had used as a weapon many times to get what he wanted, but with Lydia, he had lost grasp of what the act could do for him and had dedicated the entirety of his thoughts to maximizing only her pleasure. Each subtle shift, each muffled moan as his tongue lapped at her deliciousjuices, only made his hunger for her intensify.

“I do not think I can stand very long,” Lydia confessed quietly as she held on tightly to his arm.

Though he’d been sure to make her appear as tidy as before, there was not much he could do about the expression on her face. It was one that made him want to turn them back around and return to the privacy of that empty room.More.She wanted more, and he wanted so badly to give it to her.

“Lean on me if you have to,” he whispered into her ear, “Then, perhaps, after we have concluded our business here, we may take ourselves home and continue.”

Ezra’s ability to focus on anything besides Lydia evaporated as he watched excitement and longing fill Lydia’s eyes. They had often teased one another about him seducing her, but he had never pushed the matter once she’d instructed him to stop. Now, though, when he had expected to hear another refusal, he was met with eagerness.

He was so consumed with what was unfolding between himself and Lydia, that Ezra did not notice they had rejoined the crowded party. He paused, wanting to take a better look at her.

Lydia, I…” his words transformed into a visceral yelp as he felt a stinging pain slice through his free hand.

He turned at once, pressing Lydia between his back and the wall as he looked for his assailant. He’d been cut, and deeply, too. So much so that blood was running freely from his palm, but he paid no mind to that. His focus was only on the elegantly dressed crowd around them, trying to figure out which masked partygoer had cut him. The blade had hit his hand, yes, but he knew it could not have been the original target. His femoral artery, perhaps?

“Ezra, Ezra you have been cut,” Lydia cried out from behind him.

Already her hands were on his shoulders, trying to get him to move so she could come out from behind him.

“Do not move,” he warned, but Lydia ignored his instructions, slithered out from behind him, and came around to grab his hand.

Fury at her disobedience roiled inside of him, eating away his earlier thoughts. Lydia paid him no mind, though, as she lifted his hand and quickly wrapped it in her kerchief. Worry flooded him as he drew his eyes back to the crowd, making sure no one tried to slide something into Lydia’s back, and he pulled his hand away from her gruffly.

“What the hell do you think you are doing? Enough of your fussing, it is time to go,” he growled, feeling the sense of danger loom closer.

Anger sparked in Lydia’s eyes before a calmness came over her expression.

“We will discuss that tone later,” she whispered threateningly but began to walk with him, her skirts carefully hiding his hand.

Amusement shot like a thin arrow through Ezra’s annoyance as he picked up her tone, but before he could get her outside he heard Alice’s words ring out.

“Where are the two of you off to?”

Ezra’s annoyance spiked as Alice’s voice came from behind them. He had promised to bring Lydia back, and now that they had been caught leaving he was sure that Alice was about to berate him for it. Together, he and Lydia turned back toward her sister and his best friend. Lydia though, had tucked his wounded hand between the many folds of her wide skirts to hide his freely bleeding wound.

“I am tired, sister,” Lydia replied, her tone matching her words as she painted on a sweet smile.

“My husband had tried so sweetly to find me a quiet place to rest but the party is simply too large to find such a respite. I am afraid I am fading by the moment,” she added with a tired laugh.

Alice’s eyes jumped from Lydia’s to Ezra’s warily, as if unsure whether or not to believe them. Duncan, though, was not even slightly convinced. Even with his mask on, Ezra knew he did not buy Lydia’s excuse. The disgusted stare from his alleged friend and brother shortened what little fuse he had left, but just as he was about to open his mouth and unleash his fury, Lydia made a wonderfully impressive whimpering noise as she snuggled into his arm and nuzzled her head onto his shoulder.

“Take me home, husband,” she pouted, “I am barely able to stay on my feet.”

Though he knew it was not real, Lydia’s tone and carefully placed touches rivaled that of any actress. She appeared spoiled and safe at his side as well as pitifully weary and drunk. She leaned on him like it was something she did often and without forethought like the intimacy had existed between them from the start. She looked…in love.

Alice and Duncan’s expressions dropped from judgmental to embarrassed in an instant, a deep blush flooding both of their faces as they realized their mistake. As he watched this, Ezra felt his icy calm slide back into place, and he stifled the ticking explosion inside of him.

“As you can see, my wife needs her bed,” Ezra said, shrugging his free shoulder in his usual bored manner. “And as her husband, is it not my duty to see that she gets to it safely?”

“I…my apologies, brother,” Duncan muttered, his eyes falling to the ground as he bowed his head toward Ezra. “Of course.”

“We will visit tomorrow, while you are still in town,” Alice said, though this time her tone was more imploring than forceful.

“Fine,” Lydia yawned, appearing sleepy and bored with the conversation. She waved a lazy hand at her sister, not bothering to open her eyes or remove her cheek from Ezra’s shoulder.

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