The Marquis Eldest Son's Lascivious Novels & Stories

Never mind the lack of smiles—maybe we had fallen prey to a toothache, all at once. Duke Chartreuse, Abigail’s father. He was a handsome man, even in his sixties. His daughter had evidently taken after him. But he was a thief, I saw it in his eyes. The gallows groan for you, dirtbag! Marquis Chartreuse was the eldest son. He was not as handsome and had the look of a fraud about him. Wait a bit, that’s not the right word—a crook. He wasn’t clever enough to be a fraud, but just enough to steal whatever he could get his hands on. A few counts from the same pack: the queen’s middle brother, her second eldest brother, their heirs, wives, daughters with their husbands... Holy crap!

" Her mother had something going on with one of my uncles and we kind of feel responsible for this girl. I mean she could have been ours, that's all I'm going to say and I want you to respect her and Raphaels whishes" " And who are you young man?" madam Marisol asks. " I'm Sebastian Sinclair, the heir of my family ma'm. And I apologise for being rude in your house, at your family dinner but I don't like disrespect as much as you do" he answers her and nods towards her, gesturing that he sees himself under her rank.

Marquis Vale desired to send his son and but the Earl was already planning to send his daughter. What was it if not using appearance to entice the man? "You're quite fast, old man. Do you want to see your grandchildren that fast?" I recall your daughter being only 16 years old." Marques Vale responded with scorn. "Unfortunately for you, you do not have a daughter who wishes to travel throughout the empire." Earl Frocov grinned as he observed Erik soothing his father. For years, Marquis Vale's greatest sorrow had been the lack of a daughter. When she watched the two old men assessing each other, Isla shouted, "Enough."

Her lips curved into a bitter smile, as if silently asking, "Are you satisfied now?" The boy also sneaked another look at Lucien. Seeing that the chill in Lucien’s expression had eased, he finally dared to breathe again. The rumors were true after all. The youngest son of the Rothschild family enjoyed toying with and humiliating Elowen. He liked watching others torment her, but he would never allow anyone to claim her as a girlfriend or a personal plaything. Anyone who dared harbor such thoughts would be made to suffer a fate worse than death.

my father asked. "Mr. Williams, can you go now? I'll reach out to you," Lorenzo said tightly, his voice was taut, but he still holding that calm command. I heard my father's footsteps retreat, and then the door slammed shut. I didn't stop, instead I sucked him deeper and rougher. Wet and messy. My spit coated him, dripping down as I pumped my mouth up and down his length. "Why are you so fucking naughty, Sienna?" he groaned, gripping a fistful of my hair as he matched my rhythm.

And until now, it was good for me, like this. ''Dad always said That I could marry whatever who me, that I wasn't going to force myself to follow tradition. I say to my father. I reminded him of the promise he made to me when I was ten. ''Mark, you had a life to get a wife! And you all the time just wanted to have fun. Enough is enough! And don't try to pass me, I'll know if you try to bring an into prostitute to this house. You've got three months! If you don't get a wife, you'll lose your place as Bastille boss to your cousin. And, it's my final word,'' he says and climbs the stairs without giving me time to argue anything else.

He was disgusted with this useless son who only knew how to draw, but because of the complicated relationships in the aristocracy, he was forced to force this son to do as he pleased. He just wished that his son Marco was like his brother Jason, who was both tactful and well-spoken, good at politics and able to build relationships with other nobles. As for Marco, except for drawing pages and wandering the streets, he was of no use. "Marco, this is Marrila, lady of the Lorenzo family. Marrila, this is Marco, my youngest son." Marrila is a haughty and beautiful blonde, she slightly extended her hand and greeted Marco.

the Earl’s pleased smirk appeared, “It is a big difference to those men you have chosen since they were forced to become a guinea pig.” “Huh, now I am curious as to why the eldest son of Alfon volunteered himself, ” the conjurer expressed, whilst watching a passing Rogratiatto family car out of the window. “Hmf, the power of love and lust Monsieur Perrin, ” the Earl remarked with a sure voice, “Le pouvoir de l’amour et surtout, la luxure.” (“The power of love and most especially, lust.“) The conjurer’s eyes went wide. “Are you saying that André—?”

Lucy replied sarcastically. " It's not funny, Lucy! " Charlotte replied whilst gritting her teeth in Anger. They were all aware that the Two sons of Mr. Tristan are not the ones that any woman would dream to get married to, though they were rich and handsome they were not suitable why because the first son was a jerk and a ruthless Playboy who changed girlfriends like Shoes, he was also very rude and vulgar, he doesn't even respect women and only treated them as playthings, once she slapped a female Reporter in public just because she accused him of being a Playboy.

Helios’s betrayal ran deep within my bones. He was the least I had expected to abandon me ruthlessly like that, when he knew how much I suffered within the Lancaster family. My father, Earl Lancaster had suddenly revealed that I was to wed a marquess against my will. The marquess wasn’t just any Marquess. Marquess Powell. A well-known marquess known for his extreme wealth in the Southern capital of the werewolf kingdom and also his lecherous nature.