A Nobleman's Guide to Seducing a Scoundrel (The Doomsday Books, #2)

by K.J. Charles

It transformed his appearance from a surprised owl to a tall surprised owl.

“What colours do you like?” “God, I don’t know. Red.” The room was north-facing, with its windows set in deep bays, and the wood panelling meant it was dark even at close to noon. “I’d recommend golds and greens.” “I’m sure I just said red. My mouth moved, and I distinctly heard sounds emerge.” “Yes, but you were guessing.”

Lord Oxney was so obviously a man who gave people chances: there was a very kind heart under the thick muscle and temper. It made him staggeringly easy to manipulate. Luke made a silent vow that nobody else would be doing that while he was here.

“A secretary’s place is quite flexible,” Luke said. “Let me know what you want from me, and I’ll do my best to provide it.” He should probably not have said that, because Oxney’s eyes widened. Just a little flicker, just there, that sudden crackle of awareness at a second meaning.

“Madam, your eyes are as brown as, uh. I don’t know. Bread?” Doomsday’s downswept eyes swept right back up. “Bread?” “I couldn’t think of anything else brown. Hot chocolate? A good beef stew?”

She’s your mother. How can one lose one’s mother?” “Careful, Fulk,” Rufus said. “You sound like you’re asking for tips.”

“Well, my family has a long history of trading—” “We all know that,” Oxney muttered.

But there was still a kernel of him that was a desperate, lost, hungry thing, and no matter how hard he tried to starve it out, it was always there, poking its head out at a sniff of affection, howling for more, making him hopeful and vulnerable and stupid.

Worst of all, he had nobody to blame but himself. (And Oxney, if one could blame a man for being too protective, smiling too much, and possessing an excessively nice pair of forearms.)

Factions had formed. Several of the upper servants weren’t speaking to one another. Luke lived for it.

he also discovered he only cared for it when he liked his partner, when you could share a laugh and you both enjoyed yourselves. He couldn’t see the point of putting his prick in someone for whom he had no affection, as a merely physical act.

DEMISEXUAL VIBES?!?!

Rufus didn’t lust where he didn’t like. But he liked Luke Doomsday so very much, and now lust was flooding him in a way he’d never experienced in his life.

demisexual.

He wanted his secretary. He wasn’t sure how you went about worshipping a man in bed but he wanted to find out and do it.

he’s going all in woww

“I know you want me to say the chair is strangely uncomfortable, and I won’t be giving you the satisfaction.”

A painting on his own walls for Luke’s pleasure, and nothing about that was fair.