Prince: Royal Romantic Suspense (Billionaires in Disguise: Maxence Book 5) by Blair Babylon (best ereader for comics .TXT) 📗

His fingers were gone, a withdrawal that made her want so much more. A zip ripped the air behind her, and a desk drawer slammed, the vibration shuddering through her breasts pressing on the wood. Her heart was pounding in her ear so hard that she barely heard the crinkle of foil before he pushed at her entrance.

She tried to relax, tried to open herself to let him in, but Maxence was pushing in. She was so slick that his massive erection didn’t drag against her flesh but slipped inside her. His hips slammed against her ass.

His intrusion made her spine curl and she rose off the desk, but he pushed her back against the wood. She assumed he would grab her hips, but Maxence gripped her shoulders, holding her down on the desk and slapping his hips against her ass.

She was already so close from his hand that the friction inside spiraled her more tightly. Her throat was making little sounds every time he pumped into her, and she knew she was supposed to be quiet and that there was someone on the other side of that door at the other end of the office, but she couldn’t help it. The world condensed to his hands on her shoulders and his staff shoving inside her. Her back bowed, and she pressed her forehead against the desk as she pushed back, trying to get that little last bit of friction.

One of his hands left her shoulder, and his hot breath puffed against the back of her neck. His arm wrapped at her waist and then his finger was on her, and the strong pinch and rub of his fingers broke through.

Ecstasy barreled up her spine and into her skull, a white throb of light that filled her senses.

He pounded into her, each shove another pulse that destroyed her sense of the world around her and left her only with his hard flesh, his energy, and the cinnamon and dark wood scent of his cologne filling the room from their heat.

Behind her neck, he snarled like a wolf tearing into meat, and his body jerked with a wild upward stab. His fists on her shoulders clenched, his fingertips digging into her flesh.

She felt him inside her, the throb of him and the spasm through his muscles as he panted, his breath harsh on her spine.

After a few breaths, his fingers loosened, and his lips were gentle as he kissed the back of her neck. “Good girl.”

Right after that, he pulled out of her, practically ripping himself out. A few noises squished, and the condom thudded in the wastepaper basket.

Even though she was still panting, even though she was still raw and her mind spun from that insane orgasm, her feet were lifted, her panties were on her ankles and then pulled up, her dress was tugged down as far as it went, and then Maxence was sitting in the chair and she was cradled in his arms with her head on his shoulder.

“Chérie,” Maxence said. “You were wonderful. You did so well. I’m proud of you.”

Dree snaked her arms up and wound them around his neck as he pressed her against his wildly beating heart. “Is this part of it, too?”

“This is called aftercare. After I take everything I need from you, I give you what you need.”

Buzzing cotton still filled her head. “What is it you think I need?”

“My gratitude for letting me take what I needed.”

She pushed herself up again so she could look at him. “Is that all you need?”

His dark eyes blazed with fire as dark as her desires, and as dark as his. “No, but it’s enough for now.”

She snuggled back against his chest. “Okay. I guess that’s enough for today.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Chapter Ten

New Year’s Eve

Dree

The next day, New Year’s Eve, Dree had planned to go to bed early because everything still seemed pretty overwhelming, but Chiara convinced her to come out with a few other palace employees to watch the fireworks over the Mediterranean Sea.

A group of about twenty people strolled the short distance out of the back of the palace, past the enormous Christmas tree brilliantly lit with red and white lights in the center of the courtyard and the creepy bronze statue of a guy in medieval robes over on one side, and into the old town of Monaco-Ville. In just a few blocks, Dree and the rest of them reached a small, crowded park high on a cliff that overlooked the harbor and the enormous expanse of black water.

The winter night was chilly, and Dree was glad that she’d dug her bright red ski jacket out of the back of her small closet. It was a very good thing that Chiara had insisted it needed to be cleaned and sent it down to the palace laundry that first day she’d arrived. Dree hadn’t been able to smell herself when they were in Nepal, but a few days of regular showering had reset her nose and she’d realized just how foul her riding clothes had been.

The fireworks were glorious, of course, a sumptuous display of glowing firefalls that culminated in a red and white crescendo over the Mediterranean.

Afterward, they stayed up to have a drink in the staff breakroom downstairs. Dree heard stories from the Monegasque citizens who’d always dreamed of working in the palace with their sovereign prince. The reverence they held for Maxence’s uncle Rainier IV was palpable in their kind words and the way their eyes traveled up as they spoke of him.

The next day, New Year’s Day, was a Sunday. Chiara had warned Dree that the staff walked to church together, so Dree was ready and waiting even though she was just the tiniest bit hungover.

The church was near where they’d watched the fireworks the night before, an immense cathedral with stained-glass windows rising to the ceiling far above and a pipe organ bellowing music.

Dree was just talking to