She bites her lower lip but nods, fumbling for the handle on the door behind her as if she can’t bear to turn away from me. Backing out of the room, her eyes flit from my reddened face to the bulge in my trousers.
“Friedrich, you?—”
“Go, mi’ lady.” I’m practically grinding my teeth to dust. “Before I throw you on one of these couches and have my wicked way with you.”
She hesitates a moment more.
“I’ll be fine,” I assure myself more than her.
The second the door clicks shut again, I’m yanking my zipper down, not even bothering to undo my belt as I pull out my painfully hard dick. I fish Aurelia’s forgotten panties from my pocket. The plain black cotton shouldn’t be exciting, but the fact that my little nanny doesn’t seem to own anything but simple bikinis is somehow endearing and sexy.
Precum is already seeping from my tip, and I use it as lube as I set a furious pace on my shaft. Anger and desire and pure fucking need claw at my stomach and the base of my spine. I rub the cotton underwear between the fingers of my other hand, picturing myself rubbing her dripping slit while I jerk myself at her feet. Her scent is still heavy in my nose, but I bring her panties up to my face and inhale her again. Christ, it’s almost as good as having her here with me.
I breathe her in, my fist working up and down, gathering more of my leaking need with each stroke to the tip, wishing it was her wetness coating me instead. That image is more than enough to have my balls drawing up, the muscles of my ass clench, and I’m fucking my fist now, rutting and groaning like a goddamn animal. I feel that familiar rush up my chest as I skirt closer and closer to the edge. One last inhale of her, and I’m finished, my muscles go rigid and taut for an instant. I drop her panties from my face and hold them out in front of me as the first jet erupts on a strangled groan. And then it doesn’t stop. I come and I come and I come, my release pooling in the black fabric in my hand as I shudder and shake and moan—no, whimper—because I truly am a needy little bitch for her.
My body finally stops spasming, but my breaths are still coming in heavy puffs like I just sprinted the last five hundred meters of a ten-kilometer run. And my legs feel like it, too. After carefully folding Aurelia’s underwear and placing the cum-soaked cotton back in my pocket, I tuck myself back in my military dress slacks and make my way—wobbly-legged—out of the room and back towards my waiting bachelorettes.
Trixie is standing at the door I slipped through minutes ago. I’m honestly not sure how long I was gone, but it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes. Still, my cousin is tapping her foot impatiently under her rippling gown.
“I hope that was worth it,” she grumbles. “Justkeep that stupid, glowy grin on the rest of the night and make parliament happy, okay?”
I rub a hand along my bearded jaw, realizing I am indeed smiling, and even the prospect of going back out into that den of vipers can’t drag that from me now. Not when I have Aurelia’s underthings in my pocket and the lingering scent of her in my nose.
I reenter the ballroom and scan for a friendly face, any friendly face. Hell, I’ll dance with one of my sisters at this point, anything to keep this giddy high going a bit longer. I see Miles just down the room, but his head is bent so low I can’t even try to read his lips as he whispers something to Margaret LaFleur. He straightens up with his classic shit-eating grin as Lady Margaret turns on her heel, her lips pursed, but the rest of her face expressionless.
She spots me in the crowd and dances around the others lining the side of the floor, her mouth softening into a demure smile.
“Your Highness.” She dips into a graceful curtsy. Her silver gown billows out beneath her, and I’m forcing down the memory of another gown that flowed like that.
“Lady Margaret, always a pleasure to see you.” I give a quick kiss to the top of her hand, lifting her to stand and leading her out to the middle of the room. “Are you having a pleasant evening?”Christ, I sound like a fucking twat.
“Very pleasant, though I’d say my dearest friend seems to be winning in the enjoyment category.”
“Oh?” I spin us on the spot so I can see where she was looking, and once again, Aurelia is in the arms of another man. My hold on Margaret goes stiff, but I rein in the racing thoughts as I remember how pliant and responsive she was under my mouth mere minutes ago.
“She made quite the impression when you stood on her arrival.” Lady Margaret searches me, her hazel eyes hard and assessing, and I get the feeling she can read minds or something. “She’s radiant, is she not?”
“Lovely,” I agree. “Do you know her well?” I play the part. She doesn’t know that I’ve been guiding her friend on this sexual journey, and it’s not my place to expose that part of Aurelia.
Margaret raises a single eyebrow at me. “Quite well,” she replies almost tersely. “And I’ll have you know that she is perhaps one of the greatest humans I have ever met.”
“That is high praise, Lady Margaret. I don’t know that I’ve ever heard you speak so well of anyone.”
“If you only knew her, Your Highness.”
I want to scream that I do know her. That I think the same way. That I’m enraptured with her kindness and her goodness and her passion. I’m dying to talk to her closest friend about the woman who just will not stay off my mind. To get to know her friends and her family and every damn thing about her.
The song ends, and as Lady Margaret is turning away, Miles comes behind me and places a hand on my shoulder.
“Fritz, I need to borrow you a minute.”
Margaret whips back around, a swirl of shimmering tulle and satin. Her mouth is hanging half open, her eyes wide as she stares at me. “Fritz?” Her voice is so low I barely hear it.
I hold a finger to my lips. “Childhood nickname.”
Her look of surprise melts into a fierce scowl, and she glares at me like she can shoot fire from her eyeballs. She hikes up one side of her skirt, stamping toward me, index finger held high until she’s nearly in my face. I see Brenton out of the corner of my eye, forcing his way through the masses, and I wave him off, still holding my ground as Margaret shakes in front of me.
“You’reFritz?” she hisses from between clenched teeth.
