Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

“ J uliet, the table settings you chose are beautiful, absolutely beautiful!” Lydia gushed.

Though she was hesitant to leave Frampton, Lydia quickly set her worries aside once she was surrounded by her friends. They had laughed, talked, gossiped, and best of all, had not spoken of Ezra since her most intimate confession.

“They are stunning, are they not?” Juliet beamed, linking her arm through Lydia’s as they walked. “I cannot believe that this is truly happening. Edmund will not be home for another fourteen months, and that is saddening, but it does afford me additional time to plan a more ravishing party. Oh! I still cannot believe that my new in-laws are willing to help pay for such a lavish wedding! Papa would never, you know, but now I truly get the wedding of my dreams! It shall be perfect!”

“Of course it will,” Lydia replied warmly.

She was so incredibly happy to hear Juliet continuing to rattle off more of her elegant wedding ideas, but somewhere in the distance, Lydia heard the shout of a familiar voice. She ignored it at first, thinking it was her imagination, but as they continued to stroll down the street, it got louder to the point that Juliet stopped talking, and they both paused to look toward the commotion.

Lydia felt a deep hurt spring in her gut as she put the familiar voice with the familiar face, and she watched with shock as a strikingly beautiful noblewoman struck Ezra's face with a force so great that it rang throughout the street. Though it was a warm late summer day, Lydia felt a cold trickle over her, starting at the top of her head and traveling like melting ice down to her feet.

Ezra had been slapped so hard that his head had swiveled toward them, and though they were a good thirty paces apart, Lydia could see the fury in his eyes. She watched, frozen, as he slowly began to turn back to the woman, but he paused as his eyes settled on her and Juliet.

She had told him she did not care about his paramours or his needs. She had told him that he was welcome to them if he did not touch her. And yet, as she saw him there with her, this woman was so obviously enraged by the way he made her feel, it felt like a knife to her chest.

“Who is that?” the woman asked, raising her voice louder as she noticed Ezra’s stolen attention.

She peered through the gate at Lydia, so close to Ezra that their foreheads nearly touched, and she smiled. It was a wicked smile; poisonous. It made Lydia take a step back and pull Juliet close.

“Ah,” the woman sang, “Your wife. Hmm. She seems rather…shocked, Ezra. You did not tell her about me?”

Lydia felt another slice of hurt pass through her chest as she dropped her gaze to the ground and took another step backward. From the woman’s patio, she heard Ezra growl, “You will stay away from her. You and your friends. I do not believe you, not for a moment.”

Lydia looked up blankly to see Ezra jump over the waist-high patio railing and march toward her. There was a terrifying look on his face, but she felt nothing as she looked up at it. In fact, a numbness she’d never felt before had swallowed her whole.

Ezra stopped just a few paces away, looking like a trapped bull ready to charge. He then took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and gave a rigid bow toward her and Juliet.

“Wife. Sister-In-Law. What a surprise to see you.”

Lydia stood as still as a statue as he raised up to his full height once more and focused his deadened gaze directly on her.

“My deepest apologies, Miss Juliet, but I am afraid I must cut this impromptu visit short. May we escort you home?”

Juliet looked worriedly toward Lydia, but she could only muster a blank stare. How, how could catching Ezra hurt so much? Is that not what she had known he would do?

“My carriage and maid are just up there,” she heard Juliet reply, “But I am not sure my sister is…”

“Your sister is in safe hands, I promise you,” Ezra replied curtly, then offered her his elbow. “We shall escort you to your carriage.”

Juliet looked toward Lydia once more, and she managed a silent nod. Without another word, her little sister took Ezra’s arm and stepped into place beside him. Ezra turned to Lydia and offered her his other arm, and she took it numbly. He gave her a short nod of approval, but his blue eyes were devoid of emotion.

“Your whore?” The question came spilling out as they walked away from Juliet’s carriage.

She had never used such a word before. It felt raw and guttural in her mouth and she regretted it immediately. Beside her, she felt Ezra stiffen, but he continued to say nothing as he walked them toward his London house. In the hazy afternoon, gray clouds had rolled in, and a light sprinkling of rain began to fall on them. It was fitting, she thought, since everything else seemed to be collapsing around her.

“Do not use such language again,” Ezra warned a while later.

“Why?” she asked quickly, “It is a term I am sure you use.”

“I am a debaucherous lech, and you are a lady,” he sneered.

Tears sprang in her eyes, but instead of sobbing, she let out a laugh.

“And what is a lady that is married to a debaucherous lech?” she asked bitterly.

Ezra halted, stopping them as the rain began to fall harder.

“What are you saying?” he asked, his ice-blue eyes darkening warily.

She hated him then. Hated how the raindrops amplified the carved, handsome features of his face, and how it made her want him even now. Because she did, didn’t she? She wanted him, and she had thought he had wanted her. But he clearly had been toying with her. She had just been another victim of one of his heartless games.

“I am saying that if a wife inherits her husband’s title, perhaps it is time that I, too, participate in some debauchery.”

Anger finally spiked through her numbness as she broke out of his hold and stood defiantly before him in the empty street. Ezra looked back at her with a sneer but shot forward and reached for her wrist. She slid out of his way, throwing him a glare as she took a few more paces backward.

“Are you saying you want to take a lover, wife?” he barked, marching straight toward her.

“Is that who that woman was to you?” she hissed, attempting to get out of his grasp again.

This time, though, she was not fast enough, and in one swift moment, Ezra had her pinned to his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around her back.

“You had better answer my question first, Lydia,” Ezra growled.

Despite her rage, Lydia felt a barb of unwanted desire shoot through her as Ezra’s heat roiled from his solid body.

“Who is she?” she demanded, her voice cracking as she pushed at his chest.

“Lydia.” The deadly warning in Ezra’s tone was almost enough to make her make her stop. Almost.

With a final thrust of her palms, she bent her knees and ducked. Thanks to the pouring rain it allowed her to twist out of his grasp, and before she had a second thought, she picked up her skirts and ran down the empty street.

“Damn it,” Ezra growled, his jealousy rising as he watched Lydia run away from him.

Without answering your question, a wicked voice whispered into his thoughts. His fury over finding her in London had suddenly vanished when she made her comment about engaging in debauchery, and in its place a dark green cloud of choking possessiveness had arisen. Is that why she was pushing him to take other lovers? Did she desire someone else?

His mind flooded with erotic memories of her; not just how she had looked, but how she had responded to him. She had wanted him. But…did she also want someone else? His fury rising, Ezra began to storm down the street after Lydia, who had followed its curve to the left and led to a park.

With each vision of her sitting on someone else’s lap, of her biting another man’s lip, he began to run faster. Though Lydia had a good two-minute lead on him he caught sight of her again in less than one, heading down an empty, darkened path away from the main promenade area and into the woods.

“Lydia, stop,” he shouted, his blood boiling as he ran faster to catch up to her.

“Leave me alone!” she shouted over her shoulder, dodging off the path and through the trees.

“The hell I will,” he spat out, springing for her.

Lydia gasped as he gripped his good hand around her upper arm, and she spun and slid in the mud, flying toward him. His own feet slipping in the mud, Ezra attempted to right them before he too lost his footing, and they were hurled to the ground.

Neither had seen the steep slope just a few feet to their left, but as they slipped down its muddy bank, Ezra wrapped his arms proactively around Lydia and cradled her head to his chest. His back took the slide with no pain at all, so as soon as they came to a stop at its bottom he gripped Lydia’s wrists and pushed her back down into the sodden grass of the small, hidden valley.

He glared down at her silently as the rain pelted them, both of their chests heaving as they worked to catch their breath, and she glared right back. He would not ask her again and he would not let her up until she answered. And he knew she knew it.

“I do not want another man,” Lydia said through panting breaths. “I did not want any man at all. Until you.”

Ezra felt the words drop into the empty pit of his stomach like a bomb. He had teased her about wanting him, made her a plaything to taunt to prove to her otherwise- but he had not actually thought she had wanted him. He let out a ragged breath, letting his grip ease on her wrists.

“But I will not be a simpering idiot who wants a man who does not want her back,” she spat out, hurt mottling over the rage in her eyes, “And if being with other women soothes your pain, maybe it will soothe mine.”

Guilt and hurt churned inside Ezra as thunder bellowed above them and the warm rain grew heavier. He had done this to her. Twisted her into this confused state until she felt helpless. Yet, is that not what he did to all people? Is that not how he bent them to his will? Not Lydia, a voice from deep within begged him. Not her. You can stop. You can spare her.

So distracted had Ezra become by his clashing thoughts that he was unprepared to prevent the sudden twist of Lydia’s body, the movement of her wrists as she slipped them out of his hold and shoved him into the mud. For a moment he thought she was going to run, but as he lunged for her she swiveled around in the slick rain and slammed her hands into his chest as her body came down onto his, pinning him.

The force knocked the air out of his lungs, and he felt Lydia’s legs straddled over his lap, her thighs holding tightly onto his to keep him still. He thought he could easily move her, but when he tried to do so, he found his hands were only able to grip her waist and hold her to him.

“Now answer me!” she demanded, her eyes glittering with wrath as she ignored his hold. “Was that woman your whore?”

Ezra glared back at her, uncomfortable with the storm of emotions raging inside of him. Part of him wanted to say yes just to punish her. But that part, a part that had once been so large within him, had become incredibly small and withered.

“There has been no woman but you since we wed,” he yelled above the clashing of the storm, his eyes locked on hers.

The rain and mud had ruined her dress and hair, but like this, all mussed and wild, he found her more beautiful than ever. As his thoughts became blank, Ezra gave in to what he wanted. In one swift motion, he sat up and pinned Lydia to his lap with one hand as he held the back of her neck with the other.

“And I hate how much I want you too,” he spat out, pressing his forehead against hers as he heard her breath hitch, “It is driving me insane .”

His kiss was quick and possessive, giving neither of them a chance to say another word. Lydia whimpered as his lips claimed hers and she sunk into him, her fingers wrapping into the hair at the nape of his neck. Needing her taste, he used his lips and tongue to guide her mouth open, and he groaned with pleasure as he finally tasted her tongue again. It had only been three days, but he had craved her black cherry taste the moment he’d left Frampton, and he needed it like a vampire needed blood.

A booming clash of thunder followed by a piercingly white flash of lightning was the only thing that broke them from their spell, but it only lasted long enough for Ezra to guide Lydia into a nearby thicket. Once in the safety of the brambles, the spell resumed, and as their lips met again in passionate kisses, their hands began to tear at each other’s ruined clothes.

Though he had undressed hundreds of women, and had nearly undressed Lydia on one occasion, Ezra’s hands began to tremble as he yanked at the wet, stubborn ties of her dress and peeled back the soaked fabric from her body. Despite the rain, her skin felt hot to the touch, and the rain seemed to sizzle as it dripped onto her bare shoulder and collarbone.

Following the raindrops, Ezra bit and kissed his way from Lydia’s exposed shoulder to her collarbone, then up the column of her neck, and finally to the little spot below her ear that made her whimper. As he did so, he continued to gently remove her gown and corset, pulling it down a little at a time to expose another expanse of flesh that needed to be bitten and kissed.

When he finally pulled the fabric down low enough to expose her pert breasts and small, pointed pink nipples, he let out a heady groan of approval. Though he had immensely enjoyed teasing them the last time they were together, Ezra had not taken the time to truly appreciate them.

In awe, he brought his hands to her chest, sliding his thumbs along her sternum as he palmed the underside of each breast, and let his fingertips feel their silky weight. Just the gentlest of squeezes had Lydia’s breath hitching and her fingers tightening in his hair, and he looked up into her eyes to see pure pleasure shining down at him.

“Please,” she breathed, her hold on him growing tighter as she began to tremble, “Don’t stop.”

Every ounce of strength seemed to leave Ezra as he saw the pure desire for him in her eyes, and he sunk slowly to the ground with her in his arms. If he was a gentleman he would stop long enough to get them home and bathed but he was no gentleman, not really, and in this moment, Lydia did not seem to want to be a lady either.

With her seated in his lap, Ezra continued his exploration, alternating the touch of his hands from soft and gentle to rough and biting until Lydia was squirming in his lap and fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He had no care for where his jacket or vest had gone, especially once he clamped his mouth down on Lydia’s left breast.

Lydia said his name in a strangled tone as her fingers suddenly twisted and pulled at his shirt, forcing several of the obsidian buttons to fly off into the deep brown mud and soaked grass. Ezra’s mouth did not leave Lydia’s breast as he helped her rip the rest of the garment off. He held her fast to his ribcage as he moved over to her right breast and licked her nipple.

Lydia writhed atop him at the sensation, her hips making her mons dance wickedly against his hardened member. He gripped her tighter and wanted more of her in his mouth, but then to his surprise, she was shoving him back, her small hands flying around his neck so she could tilt his chin and bring his lips up to hers.

Ezra groaned as Lydia took possession of his mouth. He let her nip and lick him as she pleased as his hands finished pulling her dress away. His trousers were trickier, especially since neither refused to pause their kissing, but they were soon lying among the other discarded, ruined garments, along with his briefs.

It was only when he felt her hot, wet, bare petals slide against the rigid, naked length of his manhood that he finally broke from her kiss and forced them to stop. He wanted this, God did he want this.

“Don’t,” Lydia whispered, her fingers tightening at the back of his neck as she forced his eyes to hers.

Pain bloomed in Ezra’s stomach as he froze, thinking the worst. Then her hands pulled him closer.

“Please,” she whispered, her lips hovering above his, “Don’t stop.”

Relief flooded through Lydia as a groan ripped from Ezra’s throat, and his lips returned to hers. She did not care about the rain, the mud, or the fact that they were outside; all she cared about in that moment was that she was Ezra’s and Ezra was hers. No others. No nobles to court, no friends to appease, no paramours to worry about. Just the two of them together.

Lydia did not fight Ezra as he pulled her down atop him, and she moaned with pleasure as she felt their bare chests slide against one another. Between her legs, she could feel his member thumping against her most sacred place as if begging to be let in.

She sank into Ezra’s embrace, letting him take control so he could kiss and bite his way down her throat and over her breasts, but she did not expect him to suddenly grip her thighs and thrust her forward. Her knees wobbled in the mud as Ezra’s grip moved from her thighs to her backside, and she let out a cry of pleasure as his tongue burrowed between her legs.

Lydia’s back arched as she felt Ezra’s hot tongue thrust into her opening, electrifying the thousands of nerves that lay within her. Her thighs began to tremble around his ears as Ezra, unlike the first time, lapped and suckled at her like a man dying of thirst. Unable to help herself, she began to buck her hips into Ezra’s mouth, finally finding a steady grip by lacing her fingers through his thick, black hair.

“Oh, God, Lydia.” Ezra’s moan was guttural, primal, and it rang in her ears in such a way that she could not help the wave of juices that flooded from her.

The moment she felt her ecstatic release, Ezra’s grip on her backside tightened and he locked her into place, burrowing his head even further between her legs as growls and grunts of need poured from his throat. Even when she finished spasming and felt her body grow heavy and woozy, Ezra’s firm grip on her remained.

His quick, teasing tongue slowed down to deliver soothing laps over her mons, and with every stroke, she moaned and shivered helplessly. It took Ezra several minutes to become satisfied that he’d licked her clean of every drop, and when he finally loosened his grip on her, Lydia slid down to his chest like she was made entirely from liquid.

She gasped and came to life again as she felt her petals slide against his engorged member, and barely had time to cling to him before he lifted her up and placed her back on her discarded gown. Her legs slid around Ezra’s muscled lower back of their own accord as he nestled his hips above hers and she pushed her pelvis up into him as she laced her arms around his neck.

A hint of worry flashed through his desire-filled blue eyes as he paused above her, and she felt her affection bloom through her as he carefully moved a tendril of her wet hair out of his face.

“This will hurt you,” he warned above the storm. She could hear the worry in his voice.

Lydia impatiently tugged at him with her legs.

“I thought it was you who said pain goes well with pleasure?” she attempted to tease.

Ezra let out a low laugh as his erection pulsed between her legs, making her grow warm and ready again. He brought his hand up to her face and cupped her cheek, then slid his fingers down to her neck, where they formed a tight necklace.

“Is that what you want, my little white dove?” he asked, trailing his nose along hers.

“You want to feel the pleasure through the pain?”

A sinful wave of desire filled her as she heard Ezra’s blunt question. They were playing a game again. A dangerous game that she should be frightened of. Except she was not frightened. Not of Ezra.

“Yes,” she breathed, knowing she meant it fully.

With a moan, Ezra claimed her lips as he thrust his hips forward. The velvety head of his rigid shaft was thick and round as he slowly pushed between her parted petals and into her tight entrance. Lydia gasped against his mouth but focused on his kiss as his size stretched her.

It was uncomfortable at first, having so much inside, but she was surprised at how quickly the discomfort passed, and she let out a soft moan as she felt her inner walls begin to relax and pulse around each small thrust.

“Oh,” Lydia breathed against his lips, feeling her hips begin to move with his.

“Are you in pain?” Ezra asked quickly, breaking the kiss.

“No,” Lydia breathed, feeling pleasure begin to build higher, “I… thought this would hurt more.”

Ezra chuckled deeply as he leaned down to kiss her neck, and this time as he thrust his hips, sending him deeper inside of her, pain bloomed deep in her pelvis. She had not realized she had not been taking his full length before; that he had only been letting her grow comfortable before he claimed her maidenhood.

Lydia’s teeth sank into Ezra’s shoulder as he let out a deep, guttural groan of pleasure, and she let her nails bite into his back as he filled her with all of him. The pain rippling through her belly was searing, but somehow she knew if his hips stopped, it would be worse. She clung to him desperately, letting his moans and whispers of praise help her relax until the pain ebbed to nothing.

When she felt his first full stroke without pain, Lydia released her teeth and nails, and Ezra moaned her name in praise as he moved to capture her lips again. Their kiss was deep, matching the rhythm of their thrusts as they made love for the first time, and she felt her body fully surrender to him.

She could still feel the small drops of rain finding their way through the thick branches of brambles that sheltered them, and it only amplified her pleasure. This was not how she’d pictured her first time; not how she’d ever dreamed losing her maidenhood would unfold. But in this moment in the park, Lydia felt as if her longtime dream was finally coming true.

She had never had an interest in making love outside before, had never even contemplated it; but as she felt Ezra’s thrusts move faster and her pleasure climb higher, she could not picture them anywhere else. For them, this was what they needed.

Ezra’s mouth captured her own once more as their pleasure continued to build, his hips now moving in a needy, almost desperate fashion as her insides began to pain from his feral onslaught. He was so large, so thick, that even just the few moments they had shared were beginning to feel brutal.

“Stay with me, little dove,” Ezra panted, his eyes glowing as he pulled back from the kiss, “We are almost there.”

Lydia’s legs tightened around his waist as she felt another pulse of pleasure slam through her and past her blooming soreness as she felt Ezra’s member swell impossibly large before she felt her womb being flooded with his seed.

Ezra’s groan of release was like an invitation for her to follow, and as his thrusts became slow and sensual, she felt her own orgasm rush forth.

“Yes,” Ezra breathed, pulling her moans of pleasure into his mouth, as his hips slowed, Yes.”