The Duke And I Read Online Free Novels & Stories

she replied. The Duke was standing in the middle of the room, his hands in his pockets, his head tilted to one side. It was a relaxed, casual pose, and yet the way he looked at her was anything but casual. The deep midnight of his eyes burned and he radiated a subtle, sensual energy that made the air around him crackle. He looked like a man who’d never heard the word ‘no’ in all his life. Unluckily for him, ‘no’ was the only word she had.

A second later Duke bounds in, leaps up on the bed and immediately starts pawing at me frantically, trying to turn me over onto my knees, his red cock starting to show and his hips already bucking in anticipation of his next fuck from this new found eager bitch on heat. "My God, what have I done? What the hell strength was that bloody wine? It had to be a dream, my God it must have been, surely I couldn't have? "Get down Duke, no you can't, get off me please Boy, not now. What the Hell am I saying? Not now, note ever again, get down Duke, please, stop it, stop it ... No, I don't want to fuck, I can't let you, get off me...

8 ANNE Fury vibrated through me like a poorly strummed lute. My perfectly manicured nails dug into the velvet of the armchair, leaving faint crescent moons of frustration. There he sat, my supposed father, the Duke of Wales, sipping his brandy with an air of nonchalance that would make a saint want to spit fire. “That’s it?” I hissed, barely containing the storm within. “You just hand over the Dukedom to Annalisa? No fight, no argument?”

He isn’t the only son of the Crezford family, but rather he is a family tool necessary for building connections. Right after getting home, Duke quickly locks himself in the study. Being away from business, he spends all his time reading or rather, researching – he gathered information about the Reign family particularly Olivia. Just like that, two days had passed, and he finds himself inside a car heading towards the Reign household. Today, he will be meeting Olivia Reign for the first time. “We are here, sir.” Duke quickly took a glance of the view outside the car window. The car stopped right in front of a seemingly huge mansion. His dad gets off the car, and he followed.

“There's scotch and glasses behind you.” The Duke stood and turned. He grinned as he saw the scotch. “The good stuff, eh?” “I don't go cheap,” Freddie told him. “Two fingers, please.” “This stuff is my weakness,” the Duke said. The room was quiet as the Duke poured out two glasses. He gave Freddie the requested two fingers, and himself three. “I'm going to be blunt.” Freddie leaned back in his chair, cool and relaxed. He sipped on his scotch, but barely had any. “I want to marry your daughter for political reasons.”

The next day I woke up, I am now the fiance of the Demon Duke in the Kingdom of Franche-Comte, a kingdom that believes in religion, however, it has a Demon Lord living among its people, Duke of Dubois Castle, or known as Lemon. He holds my hand tight and trails kisses to my pulse, ever since I have known that this man is a Demon who saved my life with the contract of fulfilling his desire, he frequents my room almost every night. “It is not money, and not my title as the countess, also you said that it is not my soul, what is it that you desire Duke?” he paused and those jewel red eyes looked at me intently, he climbed onto my bed and even closed the distance between us. I could feel the war

Pancras station in Starbucks, which she knew was just up from the subway. Today she would live like an average person, going out with a friend and having a pleasant time with her daughter. She was not going to stay in that awful flat, with a man who demanded food, demanded she go to the shop for more Strongbow and made her listen to his ridiculous ideas about being a duke. She laughed to herself she had seen the duke, she had met the duke. There was no way on God's earth that Grant could ever be a duke whether he was the son of one or not.

"I am the Duke." "You?" For one long moment, utter bewilderment was writ large across her delightful countenance. For the life of her, Margaret could not use her surprise. How could this man, of all men, be the Duke? Aside from he fact he was far too young to have been a crony if her father's, the gentleman before her was unquestionably a rake. And a rake of the first order, to boot. Whether the dark-browned, harsh-featured face wig its aquiline nose and firm mouth and chin or the lazy assurance with which he had entered the room had contributed to her reading of his character, she could not have said. But the calmly arrogant way his intensely blue eyes had roved from the top of her curls al

I do not have the stamina to wield both weapons for long, and I am exhausted by the time I return to the castle with the Duke after midday. I arrive at the Duke's bedroom with a pitcher of clean water when I discover the Duke and his mistress are making up for the day before. Both were in a heated embrace, and I do not want to witness anything further. I silently close the door, leaving the pitcher on the office desk. The scene should not bother me, but it does. I need a distraction. I sit on the ground outside of the closed office door after I grabbed the book "The Odyssey," which the Duke must have returned to his library. I am at the end of the second

"I am sorry for suddenly calling you onto our duchy but I hope you understand how dangerous our plight is." Duke Hugin said solemnly. You also understand how dangerous your plight is so why are you asking underage children to deal with it? I'm very dissatisfied with this duke. He's making it sound like we're doing something so noble when he forced us to do this. Are we just supposed to go because he called us? I'm from a ducal family too. Annoying old man.