Page 176 of Risks of Temptation

"We are almost there, my brother." Gustave swallows two fingers of scotch.

How much do I not know that he does?

I told him only to tell me what is necessary.

"I should not be taking ma belle in front of the devil."

Gustave points at me. "This is your role now. You know this."

"It's not in my blood like yours."

Gustave scowls, as if I insulted him. "There is no choice in this matter. We need to finish this. The President and Prime Minister both need to die. The internal fighting needs to occur. Nothing can lead back to us."

There's a knock on the door. Gustave answers, "Come in."

My heart skips a beat. Emilia wears a sleeveless, black silk minidress. She has on thigh-high matching boots. Diamonds encrust the spiked heels. One-inch leather straps crawl from underneath her dress and up her chest, then around her shoulders. She has her hair half up so it's off her face but still down. Her Malin collar adorns her neck, with the leash, which I haven't allowed to be attached to it since the last time we were here, trailing from it. It hangs over her cleavage. The diamond ball grazes her sex.

She's beautiful. Sexy. Sinful as hell.

I hate how hard my dick is right now.

She's going to drive me crazy all night.

I need to take control of this situation before it's too late.

I'm not sure how it's possible to keep the boundaries tonight without breaking the bylaws.

Her eye makeup is darker, making her blue eyes pop even more. She tilts her head and licks her plump, red lips with her innocent expression. Her voice is full of sugar. "We need to go, Malin."

Gustave glances at his watch. "We have another half hour before we need to be there."

In French, she replies, "Not Malin and me. Right, my husband?"

I finish my drink. A dark corner will be best. Ma belle has thought of the best solution. I will concentrate on her and make her forget all the others around us.

I step over to her, fist her hair, and gently tug it so my face hovers over hers. Her eyes widen with fire, and my gut twists in conflict.

She was correct. I love her fire. At the same time, I fear for her when I see the flames.

I lean to her ear and, in French, say, "I'm not sure if I should kiss you or spank you for wearing this tonight."

She takes my hand and slides it behind her, on her juicy ass.

My dick twitches against her stomach, pressing into the diamond leash.

Her lips turn up. "Why don't you do both?"

She's too hard to resist. I brush my lips to hers, intending only to give her a taste, but she parts her lips and kisses me as if I'm her meal and circling her hips so the ball moves between us.

Who is submitting to whom here?

She whimpers so quietly, I question if I misheard it.

I pull back, attempting one final time to change her mind, hoping she tells me she would rather have me find a way to keep our boundary tonight. "You want to go now?"

"Please," she whispers in a desperate tone, her blue eyes already full of need.

I brush my lips to hers again but deny her when she parts her mouth and spin her toward the door instead. I take her hand and lead her out of the apartment and through the embassy.