Billionaire Flawed 1(248)

“Enter me,” Adele whispered, feeling his member tease around her opening.

Nicolas lowered his hand to his penis and guided it to the entrance. Then he slowly thrust his hips forward, Adele gasping as it slid against her walls. She raised her hips and Nicolas moaned this time. He moved slowly, sliding in and sliding out, and when Adele grabbed his buttocks, he started to pound against her, driven by the rhythm of her moans. Adele felt the pressure building in her vagina, up through her abdomen, and when Nicolas rubbed her clitoris, she came again. She tightened around him, and he could no longer contain himself, and he came, spilling his warm seed inside the woman he loved.

When they lay spent, their bodies entwined, she looked at him and smiled. Did we really do a deal: money for engagement? He nodded and laughed. Well it went spectacularly wrong didn't it?  He nodded, and they rolled about laughing, before entering into another bout of lovemaking, this time, slower, more sensual.





Cyril Wright got life imprisonment for the murder of Bartholomew Pimms. According to the judge, the motive was money. He'd done gardening work for Pimms and never been paid. Bartholomew had argued that he'd claimed for more hours that he'd actually worked. He'd tried to make out that Adele had ordered the killing because he knew her husband was having an affair with Miss Leatham and it was easy to portray Adele as the vengeful wife.

Nicholas and Adele married and had a child before the Earl died. As Earl, Nicholas employed many more orphans and had the old orphanage knocked down and rebuilt. He also paid for kinder staff.



THE END





The Duke of Ice – A Regency Romance

Elizabeth Hawk had heard all the rumors about the Duke of Summerset, Harold Stonewall. She had heard that he aided the King in a decisive battle against the French. Some say he aided. Others say he smashed the French with a force of one-hundred men and then allowed the King to take most of the credit. She’d heard about his two years in France, hiding in barns and on farms to avoid being spotted. She’d heard about his reputed coldness, and his inability to show emotion of any kind. She’d heard that he was twenty-seven and had yet to take a wife.

But Elizabeth knew other things, too, things about her own family. They were on the wrong side of a monstrous debt. They had been whittled down by war to one son and one daughter, and their extended family was non-existence, and their friends had become ghosts. Elizabeth knew that her family was on the verge of total collapse. Soon they would be nothing but a footnote in England’s history, something to be passed over with bored eyes.

When she heard that the Duke of Summerset was holding a party and that she had been invited, she didn’t know how to feel. She spent her days sewing and repairing gowns, helping to tend the chickens and pigs and generally acting as un-ladylike as a supposed lady could. The Hawk family had let all their servants go. Father’s gambling debts had robbed them of most of their valuables. They were almost utterly ruined.

But a party at Summerset Castle! As soon as Elizabeth heard about it, she was excited. She had not been to a party for two years. Her friends had abandoned her since Father had insulted all of their fathers. She had lived alone, Mother rarely talking, Father too busy with drinking and lamenting his past to engage in conversation. She spent her time when she wasn’t tending the livestock in books. Father had not sold their books, which was a small miracle in itself. She read as much as she could, if only to forget what was happening in the real world.

When the missive came, Father peered at it through a haze of pipe-smoke and scrunched up his face. “What’s this, then?” he said. “The Duke of Summerset wants you, Elizabeth, to attend a party at his Castle? Well, I wonder what tricks he’s playing! I’ve heard lots about him; I have! Lots! I’ve heard that he drinks human blood. Oh, don’t look at me like that. It’s true! He’s a beast on the battlefield, and he drinks human blood! When he returned from France, the first thing he did was order a chalice of blood!”

“Father…”

“No!” He lurched when he shouted, spilling wine down his shirt, which was already sodden with sweat. “You cannot go!”

“Dear, she can hardly refuse,” Mother murmured over her knitting. “Think how it would look. A Duke invites you to a party; you do not refuse. You accept, despite your misgivings.”

Elizabeth allowed herself a small smile but quickly hid it with her hand. She made her face impassive again and then looked to Father, waiting for him to speak. She knew there was no use in pushing the matter. She simply had to wait. After a few minutes, Father let the letter drop to the floor and sucked on his pipe. “Fine,” he grumbled. “You can go.”