The Sheik's Son - Page 61

Though Leila was in love with Etienne, she wanted him to come to her. She wanted him to want her as his equal and wife.

“No, Leila. That’s not how these things work.”

Leila smiled and came to him. “Hmmm.” She saw him harden and ran her hand down his length, encircling him with her fingers. “How does it work?”

Etienne groaned. “Leila. I need to approach your brother. We need to marry.”

Leila laughed. “Marry?” She settled on the bed and placed a finger between her thighs. “I don’t think so.”

Etienne watched as the demon girl pressed her finger through the tight pussy curls. She began to finger herself. He closed his eyes. When he opened them she was licking one small finger.

Fuck. He was fighting a losing battle. Why bother. He threw himself on top of her, stuffing her wet pussy almost immediately with his thick cock.

“Oh,” she moaned in his ear, moving her legs around his waist. “Harder. Harder.” She raked her nails across his back.

***

Sebastian and Sophie were alone in the dining room with a simple breakfast of fruit, bread and tea. She had chosen several slices of fruit, bread and butter and tea while Sebastian had only tea.

He sipped it thoughtfully as he eyed Sophie. “I don’t suppose I will see much of you in Paris.”

“No, I imagine not. Though my father and I are both fond of music. We attend many concerts.”

“Yes, I enjoy music as well.”

She was quiet, and then spoke softly. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Nothing.” He heard voices in the hallway and knew others would join them shortly. His hand covered hers. “Just remember what I said about the pamphlet.”

“I will. Thank you for being concerned.”

I am more than concerned, he thought. I am worried for your safety. I am worried for you. But he said nothing and removed his hand and nodded as Eugenie, Suzanne and Germaine joined them for breakfast.

***

After a warm goodbye to Suzanne and Germaine, Eugenie and Sophie left the chateau. Sophie had briefly glanced at Sebastian but he had turned away. It was foolish anyway to look for a token of affection, she thought. He had a concern for her welfare regarding the revolutionary pamphlet but other than a body to warm his bed, she knew she meant nothing to him.

She decided to speak to her father at the first opportunity to let him know she was willing to allow her grandmother and father to make inquiries about a match. She would not have many requirements. She did not want anyone older than her father and he must be educated. He must be kind and not be concerned that she was educated.

***

Sophie’s grandmother had many friends and her network of women would help ensure that someone would find a groom with the right requirements. Equally, her father’s colleagues at the Ferme générale would also guarantee there might be men of his acquaintance who would want Sophie as their bride.

She knew her father worked with a man who had recently lost his wife in the past year. He had two young sons and seemed giving. His name was Marc, and a few evenings after the two women returned from the Neckers’ chateau, Sophie’s father placed the name before her.

“He lost his wife this past year,” he confirmed.

Sophie nodded as her father sat before the fire, book in hand. “Do you like him? Is he a good man, Father?”

“Good enough, Sophie. I still don’t understand this rapid transformation. Did something happen at the chateau? I mean besides your grandmother almost being ravished by the duke.” Jean Pierre had heard the rather entertaining story several times from his mother when she was having tea with her friends.

The story had become more and more embellished as time progressed and he rather thought his mother enjoyed the attention. Whether the duke had the same fondness for the story he doubted. Jean Pierre had the strong sense that the duke never told a soul about the encounter with an old French woman who had hit him and called him a rapist in a country chateau.

“She wasn’t ravished. It was a simple mistake. And the duke was hit by her.” She moved along the back of her father’s chair, touching the supple leather.

“There’s no transformation, Father,” she continued. “I think more an understanding. I’m getting older, and if I want a husband and children I must look now.”

“I agree, Sophie, and I am more than happy to hear of this change of heart. I want nothing more than your happiness.” He patted her hand.

Tags: Nicola Italia Historical
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