If you think I'm about to beg Lucas Roland to not expel me from the sextuplets...

I hold back a sniffle, shutting my eyes and deciding I was going to sleep through this helicopter ride. Where was he even going to land it? In the middle of London? I doubt there was a helipad anywhere near my house and I didn't appreciate how handsome he looked piloting this entire thing. Look at me, I'm Lucas Roland, I'm an Earl and an architect, I have a castle, I fly helicopters and I'm probably the most handsome man you'll ever see and if my tongue should ever meet your pussy...

Fucking wanker!

If I was being honest, maybe this was for the best. I was obviously nursing some kind of maybe feelings for this...man, if you can call him that, and it was best that we part ways before I'm the one carving SLUT on the desk of the woman who'd replace me.

I turn my back to him so I can pretend to be in the helicopter alone, noting with some concern that the town beneath seemed quite unlike London. What route were we taking and to where? London didn't have rolling hills and old cobblestone roads and low arched buildings like that... and I couldn't remember ever seeing a cathedral and a castle just hanging about, hovering over the place like that. What in the hell was happening? What in the bloody hell was happening?

My heart was racing against my chest as the helicopter made its way through the town and towards the lake. OK, so we were about to drown. He was about to crash the helicopter into the lake because I kicked him! A group...bunch...bevy of swans complain about the helicopter's proximity and I grip my seat, turning my gaze to Luca. He looked proper tormented by it all, and I didn't know if it was safe to reach for his hand and tell him he didn't have to kill us. I keep my grip on the chair, trying to remember what the annoying tape on flights always say, lifeboat... no life-jacket...there was a life-jacket somewhere in here...or was this one of those where you pressed a button and it ejected you like in the cartoons? Was that real? Where was it? Maybe there was a parachute...

I was still in the panic of trying to save my life when Luca griped "Welcome to Whitlam" through his mouthpiece.

We had landed on the greens near a castle door just beyond the lake.

Whitlam... as in Earl of Whitlam, Whitlam? I look out at the massive castle towering over us, waiting for the Disney logo. The next thing I know my helicopter door is open and he's carrying me down the small height to the ground. I'd thank him but the way he yanked the safety belt off me spoke to his petulant mood.

"You wanted to see it, there! Have at it!" He hisses at me, his hands presenting the castle furiously.

He's still angry about any number of things I'd done today

I want to apologize, obviously, because I have a guilty conscience and I didn't know he was asking me to meet him at his helicopter to bring me here... However, I decided to focus on his tone, and the fact that he'd hissed at me when he was the one hiding the smokey-eye-sextuplets here and I didn't even know he had a castle until his sister told me today, probably on accident, at breakfast!

"Ah yes, where you keep your other harlots." I chime, twisting about arms open like I was Maria in the sound of music

I hadn't meant to dramatically enunciate that. I was measuring my voice over the blades of the helicopter, but they had suddenly stopped. You can imagine my shock when I heard a loud gasp and some murmurs. As it turns out the staff at Whitlam had rushed out to great the Earl, instead, hearing me shout WHERE YOU KEEP YOUR OTHER HARLOTS at him.

My mouth drops slightly at the sight of three butlers? a vicar? a cook? and two maids? staring wide-eyed at me. I turn to Lucas for help, was I supposed to bow, curtsy, flip my hat? He was still glaring at me, but his lips curl into a smile and then he moves as if to chuckle, folding over in pain as he clutches the same spot on his chest my knee had kicked in.

"Fucking hell!" I sigh guiltily, rushing to him to feel his chest again.

Had I punctured his lung? It hadn't felt like anything but a soft tissue thing! Maybe I'd kicked him harder than I thought. I reach for his chest, only this time he wraps his arm around me and pulls me to him, passionately pressing his lips into mine.

I try to pull away, angry that he would make me feel guilty for hurting him, just so he could kiss me in front of the cast of Whitlam Abbey. I try and push him away by his shoulders, but his tongue finds its way into my mouth and a soft moan escapes my throat from the impact. I try my best to resist him, to not kiss him back, to push him away from me...but my body... my body isn't for the resistance thing. It arcs into his, and when his free hand roams into the slit of my skirt, up my thigh and round the back to grab my butt another low moan escapes me. He growls deep in his throat, lifting my leg around his waist, his hand on my waist releasing it only to grab my other leg and force me to straddle him.

I was kissing him back, my legs were wrapped around his waist, his erection pressed against my excited tummy, my hands caressing his stupidly handsome face. In one second we were kissing passionately, madly even, and nothing that had happened in the last few hours seemed to matter. I didn't even feel him walking, didn't feel a thing until my back was pressed against a door and Luca was pushing my panties aside, pulling my tampon out, freeing his penis from his aubergine velvet dinner pants and sinking hungrily into me.

We moaned simultaneously at the intimate contact, my mouth letting go of Luca's lips which made their way to my neck as I looked at the absolutely lavish room we were now in. He wasn't kidding about fucking me while I'm on my period.

"Fuck mochridhe!" I cry softly in pleasure from the strength of his thrust, my fingers shakily curling to grab the hair at his nape as he growls inaudibly against my neck and then tugs my top down,freeing one of my breasts.

"Mo ghràdh" Luca rasps gruffly, his animalistic thrusting filling my senses, as his lips latch onto my nipple.

I'd made an entire mess of everything, of meeting the staff who called Whitlam home, of finding out where he hid the sextuplets, of apologizing to him for my antics, of being peaceful during my period... and I couldn't bring myself to care about it. I couldn't bring myself to care about anything but his bare wanton guttural moaning and his savage thrusting and the wild shivers and pleasures furiously washing over me. We were making a hot sticky bloody primal mess of the room and each other, our bodies clashing in a passionate furor. There was nothing, no pretense of propriety, no shyness, no holding back, nothing considered holy or sacred or taboo between us. I can barely form the words to describe the fierce intensity.

We lay there on another plush carpet, a few things about the room some way to being destroyed thanks to our... antics, our bodies sore and blissed out in ways I couldn't fathom, our breaths struggling to make up for the intense work we had done. The ceiling had sistine chapellesque frescoes painted onto them. The poor angel-children couldn't believe what they'd just witnessed! I press my lips onto Luca's shoulder and look up at him, watching his gaze move from the frescoes to my face.

"I'm sorry." I whisper breathlessly into his beautiful eyes

I was sincere this time, not trying to get my pussy eaten out or anything. He seemed distressed by this place, and I hadn't known this was how he felt about it.

"You're a little demon, you know that?" He wonders softly back

"Well... I didn't think you hated this place... I just thought it's where you're having your orgies with the other Marie-Frances-es."I point out, admitting to my own stupidity and slyly asking for information

"The other...." he takes in a deep breath, to stop himself from shouting

"Tha thu fortanach gu bheil gaol agam ort, you adorable baobhan sith." He grumbles (you're lucky I'm in love with you)