The Sheik's Son(13)

“Is she really that bad, Bash?” Etienne asked.

“Worse.”

***

Juliette sighed and closed her eyes, arching her back as Sebastian moved behind her. She felt him slide into her and the slap of skin-on-skin contact was the only sound in the room. His hands secured her hips to him as the pace increased.

“Oh god,” she begged.

He wrapped her long hair around his hand and pulled her head up, even as his cock anchored her body to his. She felt him inside, stretching her and filling her, and she loved the feeling of him.

“Harder, Bash,” she murmured into his ear.

He set a fast pace to accommodate her, sliding himself in and out before climaxing. When they were both finally spent, they lay together side by side in the large bed. She could hear the clip-clop of horses outside the window and threw her arm over her forehead.

She enjoyed Sebastian’s lovemaking, as she knew she would. He was considerate for her pleasure and skilled, but he was also distant. They didn’t spend their time talking, and the more she allowed him access to her body, the more she felt herself falling in love with him.

She knew that he had dismissed Giselle for being clingy and she didn’t want the same thing to happen to her. So she feigned a coolness with him and followed his lead.

But whenever the gentlemen began calling at night, her heart raced that the next face to appear in the large salon would be his. She adored his cheekbones and sensuous lips, and the brown hair that she longed to pull her fingers through.

Still, she knew that she must not give in to the madness of falling in love. He had been up front with her and she must do the same. She must treat him exactly as what he was. He was a client, a lover, nothing more.

***

Monsieur Blanche had been pleased with the new pamphlet and had promised to publish it by the week’s end. Sophie was excited by the prospect of having a second pamphlet in circulation, despite her grandmother’s damp mood over tea at Madame Necker’s.

After tea, Eugenie had come home to relay the conversation to Jean Pierre, and not in a good light at all.

“My dear son, that Madame Necker is a subversive,” Eugenie told him at dinner.

The three dined simply at home; Cook had prepared boiled meat of veal, turkey, a salad, cheese, fruit and red wine.

Jean Pierre frowned at his over-exaggerating mother. “Subversive? Surely not, Mère.” He took a bite of his veal and sighed. Cook was very skilled.

“Well, perhaps not subversive,” she conceded.

“Not at all subversive, Grand-mère,” Sophie spoke up as she toyed with her salad. “She’s an intellectual. She fosters reason and individualism over tradition.”

Jean Pierre smiled at his daughter. She clearly understood the salonist’s circle was prestigious as well as important.

“Madame Necker is a highly celebrated salonist, Mère. She has some of the most well known people surround her. Sophie benefits greatly from their company.”

“I’m not at all certain, mon fils,” Eugenie said to her son.

“Mère, if Madame Necker has taken a liking to Sophie, it is to be encouraged.”

Eugenie looked away from the decorated, candlelit table. She detested arguing with her only son and they rarely did so. But she felt Sophie had been allowed too much laxity where education was concerned and Eugenie had not discovered it until it was too late. Now the child was sharp-tongued, had wit and could use both. These were not feminine attributes.

“Of course. As you wish.”

“And the cricket game, Papa?” Sophie asked, giddy with the thought of spending time with the salonists and soaking up all the opportunity had to offer.

“Yes.” Jean Pierre placed his eating utensils down. “You may attend.”

Besides the Duke’s own reputation with women, he had a secretary of some mysterious origin who was the same. The secretary was rumored to be a womanizer as well, and several of his friends enjoyed drink and gambling.

Of course, Jean Pierre didn’t fault them for that. They were all young and Paris had many allures, but he wanted to make certain his daughter was not one of them.

“Mother, will you attend the cricket match with her?” Jean Pierre asked Eugenie.

Eugenie had heard the game mentioned several times by her granddaughter and knew she was looking forward to it. She imagined the game would be incredibly boring and outdoors, no less, but she didn’t want to ruin things for Sophie.

“Yes. I know Sophie is looking forward to the game. I would not spoil her fun,” she said, eyeing the auburn-haired girl across the table.

“Merci! Thank you, Grand-mère.” Sophie came to Eugenie and hugged her warmly, kissing her on both cheeks. “I must choose a gown!” She left the table and the room, and could be heard in the house calling for Marie.