Augustine rubbed his cock through the cleft of her ass, whispering to her about how much he liked the softness of her flesh and silkiness of her skin, and that if she forgot to call himSiragain, he was going to fuck her boobs next because he simply adored them.
He was holding himself up on his arms, and the one right in front of her nose had the tattoo on it. There were three shields around a triangle. The one pointing down to his hand and the white sheet had a red and white diamond checkerboard pattern. The other two had a white lion on an orange background and three yellow crowns on blue.
The hardness of his cock rubbing her ass and back was driving her crazy, and she tried to turn over to grab him and force him down to the bed so she could have him, but he was so much stronger than she was. He held her arms down with his hands while he rubbed himself off on her, groaning and leaning his forehead against the back of her head as warmth spurted on her back.
When he let her up, Dree tried to punch him, but Augustine deflected her blow with one quick push of his forearm while laughing. “No getting mad, or you’ll never get it.”
“Guys aren’t supposed to play hard to get, Auggie!”
“Oh, I’m getting plenty.”
She tried to punch him again, but Augustine blocked it and laughed at her.
It was his laughing that hurt the most.
Before they ate dinner, Augustine washed Dree in the shower, tweaking her nipples and clit with his fingertips while he smoothed soap over her body.
She kept trying to peek at the tattoo on his back, but he crowded her against the wall and held her wrists pinned above her head with one hand, caressing and tormenting her with his other.
She thought he was going to take her there in the shower, pressed up against the cold tile with the hot water streaming over her back, but he didn’t.
Dammit.
Chapter Sixteen
Choices
Maxence
Maxence had been so enthralled with Dree’s delight in the museum and then distracted by both the kidnapping attempt and her luscious ass that he hadn’t looked at his phone, despite the dozen or more notifications that had caused the cursed thing to vibrate against his thigh all day.
After he dressed and ordered supper from the hotel’s restaurant, he considered that he might need to deal with his phone.
Most of the texts were replies from his earlier prods for information.
The first was from Julien Bodilsen, Max’s contact with Flicka’s brother’s security force:Plan proceeding. Operational security.
Max rolled his eyes. He’d just wanted to know if his ex-girlfriend Flicka von Hannover was all right, and what Wulfram’s plan was to get her and the child she’d had with her out of Switzerland.
Operational security.What an ass.
From Marie-Therese Grimaldi, one of his cousins, the one who had the contact with Flicka:Don’t know what you’re hearing, but everything is fine here at home. Ppl are talking about the Council, but everyone thinks it’ll be after New Year’s or even Feb or March. No rush. re: Flicka vH.Anais says FvH won’t leave & *married her bodyguard,* who is a *Mirabaud.* Anais said FvH was *very happy* at wedding in Gibraltar, happiest A had ever seen FvH. WTF is going on?
And there was a picture.
Flicka was smiling a gloriousrealsmile, not the practiced smile she flashed at the paparazzi. Max had seen her genuine smile dozens of times, but this time, she was looking at the blond, gray-eyed man, the one who had been standing behind her so many of those times she’d smiled at Maxence.
Her smile was joyous. She was exultant and absolutely radiant, as a bride wearing an Elie Saab Couture white dress and flowers in her hair should be on her wedding day. Flicka had worn Elie Saab Couture when she’d married Pierre, too, and had been just as stunningly beautiful, but her smile had been her professional one, not like this.
Maxence did not know what was happening, but a part of his chest became hollow.
If this was true, if Flicka was legally divorced and had married someone else, there were extensive ramifications.
Maxence stared out the window over the darkening streets of Paris, watching the Christmas lights ignite one by one.
It was almost six o’clock, and the sun was fading into the horizon.
Maxence should be preparing himself for Vespers.
