The Duke's Revenge

by Alexia Praks

  “I said why would I be there instead?” He caught her slender angle and gave it a tug.

  Her bottom slid down. She panicked and shifted her gazed to him in confusion. He tugged her leg again. Her bottom slide down a bit more. She blinked.

  Leisurely, his hand moved up the length of her leg. It was as if he was stroking her skin but at the same time she felt threaten. The slowness did nothing to ease her raging heart. She felt the tingling sensations through her being. His gaze was intense on her face.

  She bit her lip and her fingers were digging into the pillow. She gathered all her inner strength and kicked his hand away. He narrowed his eyes dangerously at her.

  She shifted backward and hit her back against the wall again.

  He caught her other leg and tugged her down.

  She found herself half-lying on the bed.

  She scrambled up. When she tried to kick his hand from her leg again, it was too late. He had managed to lift the hem of her chemise up to her thigh, his fingers gently caressing the embroidery of her garter around her thigh.

  He hooked one finger under the garter and slid it down the length of her thigh.

  Ivy’s heart was thumping so hard in her chest she was scared it might pop out of being. She bit her lip for control. There was an urgent feeling twisting in the midst of her womanhood. Her body was shaking with reactions. Suddenly, without herself knowing it, she groaned.

  He glanced at her and smiled.

  Her garter and stocking were now around her angle, exposing her shapely leg. He lifted her heel up in midair and freed the garter and stocking. Then he proceeded to stroked her, from her heel all the way up to her thigh.

  Ivy couldn’t think. All she could do was feel this thrilling sensation all over her body.

  His face was inches from hers now. His hot breath was fanning on her cheek. He moved his head closer, and erotically, he licked her upper lip with his tongue. When she just sat there staring at him like a halfwit child, he licked her lip again. This time his tongue stroked the whole length of her lip.

  That action did amazing things to Ivy’s being. She wanted more. God help, but she wanted more. This burning fire in the midst of her womanhood tightened even more.

  “Oh...” she breathed, closing her eyes.

  He smiled arrogantly and then he took her lips. It was a slow, soft kiss. It was long and erotic. Suddenly, he plucked his tongue in her mouth and wildly invaded her.

  A bolt of fear hit her. She pushed him away. When he didn’t respond, she shook her head and banged his chest with her fists to get his attention.

  Max was so consumed with his own desire that he didn’t think how far he had gone. When at last he lifted his head, he saw her teary eyes staring up at him. She looked scared.

  She hugged herself into a ball. “Go away, I don’t want you here,” she said quietly.

  He laughed harshly. “My dear, only moments ago you were please with what I did to you, and now, you’re kicking me out?” he said. “Come here!”

  She scrambled off the bed and ran to the door. She was about to open it when it was jerked open from the other side.

  “Oh, m’ lady,” Lisa gasped. She turned and saw her master. She quickly lowered her head. “I’m sorry, your grace, I did not know you’re here.”

  Max turned his gaze from the maid to his mistress. Ivy was trembling from head to toe, he realized. Did she fear him that much?

  Without a word he turned and stalked out the room.

  Ivy turned to Lisa. She cried on the maid’s shoulder and her whole body shook uncontrollably.

  “Hush, m’ lady, everything will be all right, you’ll see.”

  “Perhaps...perhaps I was just tired, that’s all.” Ivy lifted her head and stared at the maid. “Perhaps it was just the long day.”

  “I know,” Lisa said. “Come, your bath is ready.”

  The warm water soothed her, calming her cranky nerves like the sun rising after a whole night of angry storm. Once she had dressed into her nightshirt and got into bed, she wondered why she was crying so much for nothing. She could never change the past, and she could never change the fact that she was now a mistress to a duke. She must stop drooling about the negative and look on the positive side. One thing was for sure, she now has Lisa, her friend, as her lady’s maid. The fact that she was now also living in her old home was something to thank for. Aye, those were the positive side. After this night she would look more positively at the day ahead and truly try to be happy no matter what. Nodding her head with that determination, she closed her eyes with a smile.

  Not a moment later, however, her smile vanished and her frown appeared in full force. For in her mind’s eyes, she saw him again. Would he never leave her in peace? Go away, she told the image in her head. But the blonde hair man would not leave her in peace; he stubbornly lingered in her mind until she drifted off to sleep.

  CHAPTER 9

  Max gazed at his mistress strolling near the lake through the window. From this far he could not see her face, and he found himself picturing what she would look like under that lovely morning sun.

  He wondered once again why he didn’t take her during the past three nights. He could have if he wanted to but he didn’t. And why the hell didn’t he?

  He frowned and walked back to his desk. He shuffled the account books before him carelessly. He opened one and stared down at it. All that he could see was a blur of numbers. He concentrated and tried to take in what those numbers meant. But in his mind’s eyes, he only saw the violet eyes looking up at him and the heart-shaped face looming closer toward him.

  He slammed the book shut.

  He left the study and stalked out the castle through the back entrance. Outside, he felt light breeze touching his skin—a hint that spring was to due to arrive soon.

  From where he stood in the bare rose garden, he could see her, and without knowing why, he walked toward her.

  He slowed his pace as he neared her and then stopped behind her. He had the sudden urge to touch her, but he quickly disciplined himself against that unreasonable desire. As he stood there, a gentle breeze wafted around them and a few tendrils of her curls brushed against his chin and chest.

  “Ivy,” he said, wrapping his large hand around her small arm. He felt her stiffened and tried to pull away. He tightened his grip and pulled her toward him.

  “Let go, please.”

  He ignored her plea. “Come with me.”

  She chanced another push at him. It didn’t work.

  “Ivy!” he said again. When she didn’t respond, he shoved her around to face him. He saw that her lips were trembling. He frowned. Hell but he didn’t want her to be so scared of him. Frighten yes, but not in this intensity.

  “Come with me.” He took hold of her small chin between his thumb and fingers and tilted her face up. Though her face was before his—her eyes were downcast.

  “Damn it, Ivy, look at me!”

  She shivered and obediently turned her gaze to his. The moment their eyes met, she shivered again.

  “Good!”

  “What...what do you want?” she asked, shifting her eyes to look at the castle behind him instead.

  He didn’t like it that she avoided his gaze. To show his displeasure he squeezed her chin.

  It was sore, but she still ignored him. He squeezed her chin harder. She flinched and flashed her gaze to him.

  He smiled at her reaction. He saw the violet fire glowing in her eyes.

  “I don’t think we have anymore to talk about, your grace,” she said and tried to shove his hand away. It didn’t work. “Please, your grace, ‘tis sore.”

  He released her and moved his hand down her throat, caressing her sensitive skin with the back of his fingers. “I think we have a lot to talk about, Mistress.”

  She wanted to shake his hand away. He was making her sick. Would she faint, she thought fearfully. She didn’t want to do that in front of him. He would laugh at her weakness. She didn’t want him to th
ink she was weak.

  “Your grace, I have a lot to be done today,” she said as an excuse and took a step back.

  He shifted his hand to the back of her neck and took one step toward her. “Oh but we have much to do, the two of us.” He moved his mouth to her forehead and said, “I don’t like what you’re wearing, Ivy. You are my mistress now, you must dress yourself accordingly.”

  The moment his lips touched her skin, her knees wobbled. Her heart quivered with fear and excitement. Why the excitement she didn’t know. She only knew that these feelings were overwhelming and she couldn’t control them.

  Hating herself for having such stupid feelings, she pushed him away. “Your grace, please stop it,” she cried in dismay.

  He didn’t listen to her. He moved his lips down from her forehead along the length of her straight nose to her lips. He pulled her to him and nibbled her lower lip with his teeth.

  Ivy tried to push him away, but he had already held her captive. He kissed her long and hard; playing with her lips in such an exotic way that she thought he was surely mad.

  Despite all her fear at what he was doing to her; her hands gripped tighter onto his coat and she whimpered in her throat.

  At last, he moved back and looked at her. He saw that her face was flushed and her eyes were a fury of violet fire.

  He smiled.

  “Come,” he said and dragged her across the field.

  Ivy was at first very confused by what he meant. When she realized what his intention was, she pulled her hand from his.

  He turned and stared at her.

  “Where are we going?”

  He grabbed her wrist and said, “Your dress, Ivy, I don’t like it. We are going to your room and see what decent clothing we could find for you.”

  “I like my dress, your grace, there is nothing wrong with it,” she said, tugging her wrist free.

  “You called this a dress, Mistress? This is rags and I will not allow my mistress to wear rags, do you hear me?”

  “It’s not rags, your grace, I wore this dress since...” She couldn’t think when for it was such a long time ago now. “Since five years ago,” she shouted at him.

  “Five years ago?” He raised his brows. “Indeed, my dear, that is a long time ago, and I will not have you wear such rags in front of me. Come!” He caught her arm and dragged her toward the castle.

  “Your grace, please, those gowns, they are not for me.”

  “Not for you? Then who the hell do I buy them for?” he snapped as he took long, powerful strides.

  She didn’t know either and so she kept her mouth shut, allowing him to drag her all the way to her bedroom. There, she stood still as an embarrassing status in the middle of the room while he busily searched through her wardrobe. At last, he took one out.

  “Come here,” he said, looking at her.

  She didn’t move.

  “Ivy.”

  The sounded of his deep, timbre voice was very soft and gentle in her ears, and instantly, she was suspicious. Her inner sense alerted her to some kind of danger. This was not at all like him.

  “Ivy, come here,” he called again.

  When she still didn’t move, he dashed toward her and caught her arm. “You will wear this for breakfast.”

  “I won’t, ‘tis not me. It’s, it’s too bare on me. I do not like it,” she protested, shaking her head and trying to get away from his captive.

  “You will wear it, my dear.”

  “I won’t!” she shouted, still shaking her head.

  “Come here!” He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him.

  “No, please,” she cried in dismay.

  “Stay still.”

  “What are you doing?” she shrieked, the fear in her voice was hard to hide.

  He didn’t answer her. His fingers were busy undoing the row of buttons at the back of her dress.

  “Your grace?”

  “Stay still.”

  She realized then that he was undoing her gown. Was he so determined to get her out of her old dress? Oh no! He was also determined to dress her up himself. Panic rushed in and she instinctively started to make him stop by hitting his chest.

  “Your grace, please stop.”

  He turned a deaf ear on her plea and continued with his endeavor. The buttons were undone, and he ripped the material of her dress from her shoulders.

  Ivy literally stopped breathing for a second when she heard the shredding of her beloved dress ripped into pieces.

  “How dare you?” she demanded, staring up at him through teary eyes. Her anger heightened when she saw that he showed no remorse whatsoever at what he had just done to her.

  A beast—that was what he was.

  “How dare you?” she said again, and this time, she started to really hit him. “Get away from me!” she shouted and bashed her small fists against his massive, hard chest.

  He caught one of her wrist and thrust her to him. He grabbed the disassembled materials laying about her arms and ripped the whole gown down to her waist.

  She started hitting him again. It didn’t seem to affect him one bit, however, and he kept ripping more materials from her body.

  Once he was done, she was standing there, barely covering her nakedness with her shabby, thin chemise and the shreds fabrics of her gown dangling around her waist and arms.

  “You’re not wearing a corset,” he said abruptly as thought that really surprised him.

  “I don’t need one,” she snapped and struggled again to break free. He tightened his captive on her.

  He didn’t know why he was so surprise that she wasn’t wearing a corset. He supposed she didn’t need one for her body was perfect.

  “That chemise.” He turned his attention to her underwear.

  “Nay!” she shouted, understanding his meaning. “You’ve done enough.”

  “Nay, I haven’t done enough yet.”

  “What? No!” She shook her head, and with all her might, she pushed him away and ran to the other side of the room.

  “Please, your grace, it is enough,” she begged.

  “Come here, Ivy.” He reached out his hand to her.

  “Nay!” she shook her head furiously, tears brewing in her eyes. God, will he ever leave her be? She didn’t really know what to do now. She felt so trapped.

  “Come here,” he called again.

  She shook her head as he walked toward her with the new gown in his hand. She made for a run to the door. In a flash he caught her arm and pulled her against him.

  “No, please,” she cried, tears flowing down her flushed cheeks as she thrust her face against his chest. “Please.”

  She felt so tired that she couldn’t be bothered fighting him anymore and she relaxed against him.

  Max lifted her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. There he sat down with her on his lap.

  Everything was too much for her. Ivy closed her eyes and whimpered against his chest. She didn’t care what he was doing to her anymore. He could strip her naked and she wouldn’t have cared.

  Max undressed her by pulling all the shredded materials from her body. When she was only in her chemise, he dressed her into the new gown while she whimpered against him. It took him a long time, but funnily enough, he found that he actually enjoyed performing the task.

  By the time he had finished buttoning up her gowns, she had stopped her gentle tantrum. She wiped tears from her eyes and turned her head to look up at him.

  They stared at each other for a moment, each searching into the other’s deepest thought. Slowly, as miraculously as it may seem, he smiled.

  Her heart skipped a beat and then continued with its thunderous drumming.

  “You will wear the gowns I bought you, and if you do not, you will get a spanking on the backside, my dear mistress.” He lifted her up from his lap, laid her on the bed, and walked to the door. He was about to close it when he turned and said, “Breakfast in an hour,” afterward closing it behind him.

&n
bsp; Ivy sat there staring at him, silent and stunned.

  An hour later she dutifully made an appearance. Max stood up as Donald announced her presence. He watched her as she stepped into the conservatory. Though he didn’t show it outwardly, he did appreciate the fact that she was wearing the gown he had put on her.

  And she was damn beautiful in it to boot.

  The Empire style complimented her slender figure to perfection. Her petal white skin glowed before his eyes and her dark hair was fashioned into ringlets nicely.

  As she came forward, Donald drew out a chair for her. She nodded at the butler and took the seat.

  As she sat down, Ivy didn’t like the fact that the ogre was staring at her for a bit too long. Was her skin showing too much? She didn’t really like wearing the gown. She thought it was too bare for her but tried to dismiss that idea, after all, the style was the rage in London.

  “I hoped you are hungry for Mrs. Woods, our cook, had put much work into preparing this delicious meal,” he said after a long silent.

  She turned her attention to the array of food before her. There were freshly baked bread, toasts, hot rolls, cold rolls, pound cake, and plumb cake. There was so many she didn’t know where to start. After a moment of indecision, she reached for the toast and spread butter and raspberry jam on it. She took a few bites and chewed. It was delicious.

  “Why don’t you make tea?” he said abruptly.

  She looked up at him and then blinked.

  “There,” he nodded toward the silver tea set placed on the table not far from her.

  He wanted her to make tea? That important job alone was only honored to the lady of the house, such as her mother for instance, and not some insignificant chit like her.

  He saw her hesitant and said, “Unless you prefer coffee or chocolate.”

  She glanced at him nervously, shook her head, and reached for the large, lavishly decorated tea urn. It was quite heavy as she brought it over and poured the hot water in the silver teapot. She had no doubt that the one-of-a-kind Wedgwood tea set, which was probably designed for his household specifically, was very expensive.