As her fingers moved, her skirt rode up higher.
The flesh between her legs was bare and smooth, more naked than naked.
His erection throbbed with his heartbeat, and he could hear his pulse.
Maxence had started this, so he had no one to blame but himself if his impending case of blue balls caused a massive stroke.
He said, “Near the top, right against the pubic bone.”
She did, and her blue eyes flared open a little.
Yeah, that was a good spot. “Now dip inside, slowly.”
Her finger slipped between her folds, and Maxence forced his breath to stay perfectly even as a blush rose on her cheeks.
“Back and forth,” he said. “Slowly.”
Her hand changed angle as she stroked.
“Not inside yourself,” he said. “That’s mine. Just the top.”
Her hand straightened and slipped through her soft skin.
Maxence didn’t move.
Her breath quickened, and her head fell back. She closed her eyes.
Maxence said, “Stop.”
She looked up at him with horror widening her blue eyes, but her hand had moved away from her sex.“Stop?”
He handed her a tissue. “Yes,stop.Now pick up that tablet.”
She complied.“Oh, no.It’s going to be like Paris again, isn’t it?”
He smiled. “Every time I saytake notes, you will cross your legs the other way, making sure your thighs are wide enough for me to see your pink, sore, frustrated pussy while you do it.”
She settled the tablet on her lap. She said, still panting, “You’re diabolical.”
He’d been told that before. “And don’t press your thighs together to make yourself climax. I’ll know. Your subject to take notes on today is types of flowers to be imported for the Sea Change Gala.”
Dree frowned and glared at her tablet. “I don’t even know the names of all y’all’s European flowers. Roses?”
Speaking of official functions, Maxence tapped the desk phone. “Anna, have we scheduled an appointment with Lady Valentina Martini yet?”
“No, sir. I’ve spoken to her admin twice and the lady herself once. They have not been able to clear an hour for an appointment.”
“Even a virtual appointment over video-chat?” Maxence asked.
“No, sir. They’ve refused every attempt.”
He sighed. “I’ll call her. Send in my next appointment.”
His receptionist said, “Yes, sir. Your appointment is with His Highness, Prince Louis, but there is—”
The door to his office burst wide open, and two people entered the room, followed by Quentin Sault, who wore no expression, as usual.
The trailing one was Maxence’s great-uncle, his grandfather’s younger brother, Prince Louis Grimaldi, but the woman entering the room was—”
