Prince: Royal Romantic Suspense (Billionaires in Disguise: Maxence Book 5) by Blair Babylon (best books to read fiction txt) 📕
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- Author: Blair Babylon
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“Have I?”
“I’m sure you were at some point.”
As cool air inched up her thighs, Dree remembered something. “Uh, surprise!”
His voice dropped to a bass rumble. “Oh, my naughty little chérie, what have we here?”
His huge hand palmed her naked ass.
“Yeah, well,” she said, “I didn’t expect to come up here and find another woman in your bed.”
He massaged her ass cheek, gripping her flesh. “This is always a delightful surprise, but it’s very naughty of you to walk around the castle with no panties on, you naughty little secretary.”
“Uh, I’m just pretending to be your secretary. I’m a medical professional.”
“Naughty, naughty little secretary,” he repeated, his voice even lower. “Do you know what royal princes do with naughty little secretaries?”
“Chase them around the desk? Because I’d just stand there and let you catch me.”
“It starts with a bare-bottom spanking.”
“I think you have a thing about that.”
Crack.
“Ouch!” she squeaked. His second spank on her other ass cheek stung more than the first. It was still within the realm of fun, though.
He massaged her butt cheek again, rubbing the twinge away. “You remember your safe words?”
Oh, he was going to get that kinky, huh? “Code blue for slow down. Code black means stop.”
“Good.” His fingers dipped lower, sliding along the bottom of her ass and around to the inside of her thigh.
Dree pushed herself up on her arms and twisted to look back at her own butt. “What are you doing back there?”
Maxence moved her legs apart, pushing one off the edge of his knee. “Whatever I want to.”
She braced her toes of that dangling leg on the floor so she wouldn’t topple off his lap. Her thighs were spread open, and considering that she was face-down, so was her ass. “Yeah, but are you going to—”
He ran his fingers up the inside of her thigh and lightly brushed her folds, then pressed inside to drag his fingertip.
“Oh, wow.”
Dree thought it was kind of weird to compare what guys were like in the sack, but there was a difference. Her ex, Francis, had always had the same game, moving through the perfunctory stations of foreplay. Francis had always made little comments like wishing her waist was smaller or her tummy was flatter, like she didn’t measure up to his idea of what a woman should look like. Having sex with Francis felt like stuffing a protein bar in her mouth because she was hungry.
Maxence was decadent. He was the whole meal and dessert and fine, fine wine.
The way Max trailed his fingers over the skin of her ass and teased her, barely grazing the tip of her and then smacking her ass again—
“Ow!”
—suggested they could do this for hours, until dawn if they wanted to, because they could sleep in the next morning and didn’t have a job to get to, ever. Sex was play to him. It was a seven-course meal starting with an amuse-bouche and ending with kisses and glances that were light and sweet.
He was massaging down the backs of her thighs, and Dree rested her forehead on the comforter. Her eyes were barely open because his strong hands kneaded soreness out of her hamstrings that she hadn’t realized was there.
With her hanging over his lap like that, the world looked upside down. Dark wood furniture hung from the ceiling, and the tall bedpost beside her face blocked the bedroom door. The silver chandelier sprung from the ground like a crystalline flower.
He pressed the heel of his hand slowly up her spine, and his fingers pulsed around the back of her neck.
Dree’s shoulders lowered and relaxed, and her breathing deepened.
His fingers pressed inside her, a delicious friction of need.
He chuckled. “So wet, my naughty, naughty chérie.”
He rolled her hard nub under the pad of his thumb.
Languorous pleasure stole through her body. Dree closed her eyes, lost in his touch.
His other hand smoothed up and down her spine, his fingers reaching into her hair and fisting a handful at the top, promising something rougher later, and then trailing lower over her tailbone with each stroke. His hand petting her lifted away, but Dree was too tranquilized from his methodical seduction to investigate why.
Two fingers of his other hand still rubbed deep inside her, subtly stroking in and out. His thumb glided over her nub with every stroke.
After a second, his other hand slid over her ass. One of his fingers, wet now, drew light circles on her asshole.
Dree’s breath caught in her chest.
Maxence asked, “Do you have anything to say?”
Dree rolled her forehead on the mattress, shaking her head no, she didn’t have anything to say.
Dree’s toe on the floor slipped, and she jabbed her foot down so she wouldn’t fall off Max’s thighs. She grabbed the comforter in front of her face, squeezing the silk in her fists.
His finger on her asshole became heavier, pressing.
He said, “Don’t clench inside. Push back against my finger.”
Dree tried, acutely aware she was a total beginner at this.
He was careful, and slow, and his other hand maintained its rhythm inside her.
Slow, sensual pulses consumed her body, flowing over her muscles. It wasn’t a driving rush toward orgasm, but a constant assault on her consciousness.
With persistence, his finger invaded her asshole, impaling her there, too.
“Good chérie,” he told her.
His thumb roughened on her, and her back arched.
His finger in her ass pushed deeper, filling her there, too. Its presence pushed down his fingers inside her channel, pressing them against her front wall. The sensation was so intense that it felt like he was holding her entire clit—the part that ran all the way inside of her—in his hand and gently squeezing it with pulses.
Her whole sex was sensitive, every rub filling her with pleasure, every pulse driving deeper.
Maxence whispered, “My finger is deep in your ass, all the way up to my fist.”
Dree moaned, every subtle movement a
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