Chapter 163: CHARLOTTE & GEORGE (12)

Chapter 163: CHARLOTTE & GEORGE (12)"G-George, please..." Charlotte couldn’t help but beg.

"Please, what?" George asked, stopping his actions to look at her with his deep forest green eyes.

Charlotte blushed, averting her gaze. Please what? She wasn’t even sure herself.

George chuckled and the sound sent of electricity straight to her core. His hand moved from her entrance, but it brushed against it torturously slowly, causing Charlotte’s hips to buck.

George’s hand was now tracing her thigh, causing Charlotte to try to close her legs, but George held them apart firmly with both hands.

"Don’t worry, you only need to say my name." With that, he slowly entered her until he was fully inside her.

Charlotte was left with her mouth open at the slightly foreign but slightly familiar sensation of being full, but she soon adjusted to the feeling.

’It really fit.’ She thought.

When she felt that George wasn’t moving, she looked up at him in puzzlement, only to see him looking down at her too.

She averted her eyes again, her gaze moving down to his chest.

Her eyes widened, looking at the glaring red nail marks on his skin.



’Did I do that?’ She thought in disbelief.

Overcome with pleasure the previous night, she had dug her nails in her husband’s back, but she hadn’t spared his chest either.

She was pushed out of her thoughts once again when George moved once, causing her body to jerk.

George was a bit annoyed. He was inside her, yet she was thinking of something else.

Charlotte’s puzzled gaze returned to him when he didn’t move again. But the slight smirk on his face spoke volumes.

’He wants to torture me.’ She thought, horrified.

The thought frustrated Charlotte.

Before she could control herself, she was moving herself on the bed slowly, causing George’s lower member still inside her to move in and out of her with each movement of her hips. Her chocolate brown eyes closed and when she opened them, they were hazy, filled with desire.

George’s eyes widened, not anticipating her actions. He had wanted her to beg him, to ask for it.

Who would have thought that he would end up as the one grappling to control himself? His eyes darkened. How could she look so seductive, yet so innocent?

Even without her knowing, she stared at him with a needy, pleading look in her eyes, driving George mad with desire.

"Little vixen!"

George groaned, gripping her thigh even firmer. With a curse, he took control again while leaning down to intertwine their tongues, taking Charlotte to new heights. Surprisingly, she didn’t stop her movements, instead she increased them, trying to match his pace.

"Ah... George!"

Her moans only spurred him on. George felt like he couldn’t get enough of her.

Charlotte wasn’t let off that morning either.

After their intimate moment that morning, Charlotte soon returned to the way she was before George’s cold attitude.

"George, would you like to join me for some tea? My mother sent it to me from her kingdom."

"Let’s have dinner together, George."

"George, you didn’t come home for lunch. I asked the cook to prepare some food for you. It’s your favorite."

Day after day, she would always ask him to join her in whatever she was doing.

All the servants thought that with the way the madam and the master were going at it at night, that it wouldn’t be long until they had a little young master or miss in the mansion.

Up until a year passed, and there was still no sign of pregnancy. It affected Charlotte’s mood quite a bit, but she soon became her normal self again.

However, George had no idea she was being ridiculed by some of the other noblewomen, even those of exceedingly low status. He had no idea how she felt sometimes.

Their relationship remained like that... until he made the trip to his Fief— the trip that changed everything between them.

He had felt guilty... but he hadn’t told Charlotte. He didn’t remember much of that night, anyway.

But deep inside, there was a fear in his heart for how she would react if he told her and whenever he opened his mouth, he wouldn’t be able to utter any words, as if the words were stuck in his throat.

Whenever he saw her face, especially her eyes that looked at him with such happiness in a way no one else had, he would be eaten up with guilt and end up acting even colder to her.

Years later, when he was on another trip to his Fief, he hadn’t expected to find a child that looked exactly like him, whose mother was the woman he had slept with who worked as a courtesan in the brothel the incident had taken place. He hadn’t expected that child at all.

George was worried. His mind kept fleeting over to his wife at home who always welcomed him home sweetly. Would she still do so if she saw the child?

But George just couldn’t ignore the child. He had vowed never to be like his parents, and he couldn’t just leave his own blood. The child was innocent and didn’t deserve that.

He had originally planned to compensate the child’s mother for taking care of the child alone, and ask her to allow him take the child home to be raised by him.

That plan was no longer needed when he saw how horrible the woman was to her child. To... his child. So he took the child home with him.

He unknowingly panicked when he returned home and witnessed Charlotte’s reaction. He tried to talk to her but she didn’t listen. Wouldn’t listen.

He felt it would have been better if she had confronted him, rather than ignore him. Perhaps then it would have lessened the guilt he felt.



The mansion became very quiet after that incident. She was the one who brightened up the mansion, after all.

Even then, his cold attitude never faded. He was always cold. That was just his personality.

Even when he was with Wade, he didn’t know how to act like a father. He had never learned how to from his own parents. He always had dinner with the child alone; Charlotte barely left her room, especially when he was around.

***

In the present.


George snapped out of his thoughts when the carriage stopped.

"My lord, we have arrived." The Coachman announced.

George alighted from the carriage and headed into his mansion. "Welcome back, master." The butler bowed in greeting to him.

George nodded in acknowledgement.

"Where is the young master? And the madam? " He asked.

Whenever he came back, the first people he asked about were his wife and child.

"The young master attended a tea— c-chill session hosted by her highness, the third princess." The butler almost forgot what the young master had called it. He still wondered what it meant. He then sighed softly, but George heard it. "The madam is in her chambers."

George’s brows raised, wondering what that meant. Then he paused. The third princess?

He relaxed when he remembered what Wade had told him about the third princess being nice to him when he asked if he had any friends.

He also recalled that the third princess had been with his wife on the nigh of the banquet the previous year.

Thinking about it, both his wife and child seemed to like the third princess.

His wife was still cooped up in her room. George wondered how long they would be like this.

George shook his head, nodded at the butler and continued his steps.

However, the conversation a few maids nearby were having flew to his ears.

He could tell they were about four in number. He didn’t plan to pay attention to the gossiping maids who were not aware of his presence, but as he heard more and more of the conversation, his footsteps gradually slowed.

"Did you hear?"

"Hear what?" The other maids asked curiously.

The maid who had begun the conversation asked as if surprised. "You mean you have not heard? The Madam had gone to the Queen to seek an audience."

"An audience with her majesty?"

"I heard about that. I saw her return that day."

"Neither of you have heard the reason?"

"No." The other maids paused, catching on to something. "Do you know something?"

The maid shook her head.

"Tell us. We won’t tell anyone."

The maid looked a bit troubled, but under the probing of the other maids, she gave in.

She looked around sneakily, then faced her fellow maids and said in a secretive manner. "The Madam had gone to seek a divorce."

The maids gasped in shock.

"Are you sure of this? We could get in trouble." One of the maids eyed her.

The maid nodded with a helpless look and whispered. "I heard Natalia ask her about it when she returned yesterday and she confirmed it."

"If this is true then..."



George couldn’t hear the conversation anymore. His mind had gone blank and there was a slight ringing in his ears.

He felt a mixture of confusion, shock and disbelief. The next moment, anger consumed him.

His steps increased, causing the maids to notice him.

Their expressions changed to that of horror, and they scurried up quickly and bowed, shaking out of nervousness.

"M-master."

George ignored the group of gossiping maids as if he hadn’t seen them, his feet moving in a clear direction.

The maids exchanged fearful glances, wondering whether he had overheard their conversation.

"Had the master..."

"I don’t know. Let’s clean this up quickly and leave!"

They hoped their mouths hadn’t caused trouble for them.

A maid left a fleeting question that shook the hearts of her fellow maids.

"Is he going to see the madam..."