Billionaire Flawed 1(191)

Emily wasn't' going to lie passively as he undressed himself, she wanted to discover him. She knelt up in front of him and smiled as she slowly rubbed her hands over his imprisoned shaft. She felt it twitch. She loved this man, and she wanted him to know that she was desperate for him. His belt gave way, and her delicate fingers opened the buttons at his front. He moaned as she put her hand inside and found his manhood. Her hand stroked him fast, and he was worried that he would ejaculate. There was only one place he wanted to ejaculate and that was inside his beautiful lover. He moved her hand away and rid himself of his trousers and pants. He was dismayed when Emily took him in her hand and started to stroke again.

He had to stop her insatiable onslaught, or he would come in her hand. He placed his hands on her shoulders and shoved her back onto the bed. As he did so, her pelvis bounced back up at him. He took hold of her under her bottom, forced her legs open with his shoulder and placed his mouth on her most secret place. Emily came instantly. He saw her fists clench the sheets as she pushed her sex against his mouth. When he let go of her, she was shaking and on a plateau, she never wished to return from.

He wanted her now. He was done with playing. Now he was going to take his future wife, and he was going to show her how much he wanted her.

Emily was still shaking when he put his penis at her opening and eased himself into her. The feeling was indescribable, and she felt more intense waves rising within her. When he began to move inside her, she came again. He cried out as her nails raked down his back, finally sinking themselves into his taught buttocks.

When Emily whispered, faster my love, Charles felt himself losing control. He wanted to make it last, and he knew if he answered her wishes, he would soon come. He decided there would be many more times and gave her what she desired. He thrust into her faster pushing her up the bed, against the headboard. Emily felt him hit her clitoris with every down stroke, and when she felt his body begin to tighten, she looked him in the eyes and said, Now, give yourself to me.

They came together in one wet wave.

Then Emily whispered, “And that was the bet of the season.”



THE END





A Lady’s Reward – A Regency Romance



The Village of Ashworthy was large by English standards. Most of it was owned by Mr. Daniel Pickford, the owner of the mill where a high percentage of the population worked. Mr. Pickford demanded much of his employees. He was one of the new rich, part of the an elite group of industrialists whose wealth had multiplied incalculably during the industrial revolution. For those unfortunate enough to work for him, it was a living hell. Fifteen-hour shifts for little pay, six days a week.

Victoria was just eighteen, but she had already been working in the mill for three years. She was by far the most beautiful woman at the mill, and Mr. Pickford had earmarked her for a job as one of his assistants. Mr. Pickford's assistants didn't work in the traditional sense of the word. They waited. It was not their job to turn up at the mill and do a shift with the others; it was their job to go to Mr. Pickord's special cottage and make sure they looked pretty, in case he came to see them. As Mr. Pickford liked to have plenty of choice, he had four assistants. He always chose young unmarried women; he didn't care for husbands. They caused him to look over his shoulder too much. Victoria was next on the list as soon as one of the current incumbents decided to marry.

You ain't like us, Mary had told Victoria when she'd first come to the mill from the village school. You're posh. Mary was the forewoman and not to be quarreled with. Victoria had been terrified on her fist day, indeed the first week, and the greeting Mary had given her, had done nothing to improve her state of mind. She'd taken comfort in the fact that almost the whole of her school class had come to work there with her. They all thought she was posh too, but they were used to her ways.

You're far too intelligent to go to the mill, Mr. Jameson, her teacher, had told her. You should school yourself some more, and be a teacher, or at the very least a governess.

But sir, we have very little money, and I'm afraid if I don't work, we may want for food, she'd replied. My father is not well, and as you know, my mother passed away three years ago.

Victoria lived with her father in a small cottage for which they paid rent to Mr. Pickford. Her father also worked at the mill and had done so since before Victoria was born. He was well spoken and gentle. The village had been rife with speculation when he'd arrived to live there with his well-to-do wife, for it was obvious that they didn't belong in a small cottage or at the mill. The rumor that held most credit among the villagers was that he'd been disinherited for marrying an Irish woman.