The Sheik's Son(3)
He smiled at his daughter. She was a beauty. Her dark auburn hair and hazel eyes were striking in her oval face, with its creamy complexion. She had a trim figure and her beauty made him proud to call her daughter.
“Writing in your diary?” he noted absently.
Sophie nodded. She knew her father and grandmother would not understand so she eluded their more serious concerns by telling them that she found solace in a diary. In truth, she did. She found great solace in placing her more radical thoughts down on paper, and she had already decided that she would write under the pen name Jean Inconnu—Jean Unknown. Sophie was convinced that her writings were good enough to be printed into a pamphlet. She had made some cautious inquiries into finding a printer and had finally secured one. Her dear maid, Marie, would deliver them to the printer when they were complete. All she needed to do was finish it.
“Yes, I am.”
Jean Pierre sat across from her in a worn chair that she liked to read in and noted the many reams of paper strewn across her desk, with her cursive handwriting covering them all. She had scratched out some words and written other words in and it seemed a haphazard affair.
“Your writings are very intense,” he said, nodding toward her desk.
Sophie blushed slightly. “Yes. I become quite engrossed in my thoughts.”
He surveyed her room, which was simple and not at all what he expected from a young woman. Her large bed was covered with a plain bed covering and books lined her shelves, floor and chairs. A window seat with several plush pillows piled atop it overlooked the Seine. More books were piled upon it and he wondered what sort of books she read.
On Sophie’s small vanity table were placed a brush and mirror and two costly bottles of perfume that he had purchased for her birthday. She wore the scents sparingly.
She dressed elegantly when they went to the theater or socialized, but at home she simply wore cotton and linen gowns, with a shawl to keep her warm.
“Your grandmother was downstairs just now,” he began.
Sophie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Yes?”
“Sophie, I would never force anything upon you.”
“I know that.”
“You have received several offers of marriage in the past four years,” he added.
“None of which interested me.”
“Alphonse admires you.” He deliberately avoided her eyes and brushed away an imaginary fluff of dust from his breeches.
“He doesn’t suit.”
“And Laurent?” He named a previous suitor.
“Too old.”
“Jacques?” He named another.
“Too young.”
“Henri?” He named yet another.
“Too stupid.”
Jean Pierre laughed aloud. “Chère, is there not one man in Paris you find agreeable?”
“No, I’m sorry to say,” Sophie said sincerely.
“Perhaps Alphonse has improved with age.”
“Like a fine wine?” Sophie shook her head. “He hasn’t improved with time. He’s morose.”
Jean Pierre smiled again. “Well, don’t be too hasty. After all, marriage isn’t a curse—it’s a gift from God.”
“You never remarried,” she returned.
“No. I didn’t. That’s because after your dear mother left us, no one could take her place.”
Sophie smiled. “I’ll try to be pleasant with Alphonse. I can offer no more.”
He moved towards his daughter, kissing her lightly on the forehead. “I can ask for no more.”
***
Sebastian watched her move slowly down his body and stop at his hard, throbbing shaft. She moved her hand up and down it lightly before taking the pink head into her mouth. He closed his eyes at the sensation and almost bucked his hips as she moved her mouth, taking his length into her throat.
He was fond of Giselle and knew that she was even a little in love with him. She had strawberry-blonde hair and blue eyes set in a small heart-shaped face. She was chubby and young, and he knew she had seen enough of Paris and its men to want a different life.
Giselle suddenly pulled her wet, warm mouth away from him and replaced it with her tight snatch, settling herself on top of him. She mounted him like an eager horsewoman and he filled his hands with her heavy breasts.
“Oh Bash,” she breathed and began to move up and down.
Sebastian enjoyed the sensation of her on top of him before he moved position and pressed into her as she wrapped her legs around him. He could feel the climax building before he emptied his seed inside of her.
They lay together in a mass of limbs and sweat before he moved away from her. Giselle watched him dress and thought of asking him to stay but didn’t. No, she knew he wouldn’t like that.