Page 61 of Rogue

She did, but the wrong way, and crushed his hand against the wooden edge of her seat.

Oh, but what a way to go. He would gladly lose a hand for this. “The other way, if you would, pet.”

Dree shifted on her chair, crossing her legs away from where he sat.

Max flexed his fingers against her leg, making sure nothing was broken. He was going to have a bruise across the back of his hand. He laid his lips on her neck again and dipped his fingers under her thigh.

Her body and the upholstery of the seat warmed his hand, and he tucked his fingers farther under her leg.

He had her full attention, but he couldn’t quite reach where he wanted to.

He whispered near her ear, “Lean on the railing with your elbows and keep your eyes on the stage.”

Dree did, and Max slid his fingers farther under her leg until he touched the softest part of her.

He just left his fingertip there barely inserted between her folds, resting on her clit. “Are you enjoying the ballet?”

She nodded. “Yes, very much.”

He’d kept her frustrated and unsatisfied all day long, stroking her and not letting her climax and then fucking her face when he felt like it.

He asked, “What do you think about the ballet?”

“I didn’t realize I liked ballet so much, Sir.”

For that Sir, he drew a slick circle around her clit with his fingertip, and she gasped a little.

She whispered, “The music is lovely.”

For managing to carry on a conversation, he slipped his thumb inside her, up to his second knuckle, and rubbed gently on her front wall where he knew she would be exquisitely sensitive.

“The music is three of Mozart’s piano concertos,chérie.”The memory came to him that Flicka von Hannover had performed one of them at a competition when they were younger. He’d traveled to England to watch her perform.

Everything came back to Flicka in his life, both her presence and her absence. Yes, they ran in the same circles and had many friends in common, and their goals and worldviews were so similar that it was only logical they coordinate their charitable efforts.

His life tangled with hers.

Every time he found another place where their lives knotted together, her absence burned.

“You know a lot about ballet,” Dree said. The catch in her voice drove him wild, but he couldn’t even move, lest someone see.

The heat of her body surrounded his thumb, and he stretched out his finger to reach between her folds and up to that firm knot of nerve endings where he knew she’d love it. He said, “My family back in Monagasquay enjoys the arts. My grandmother especially enjoyed the ballet. I’ve attended concerts, ballets, and symphonies since before I can remember.”

“I’ve never been to a music concert. The tickets are too expensive.” Her voice sounded strangled like someone had his hand wrapped around her slim throat, and Maxence filed that thought away for later.

He rubbed his finger over her clit slowly and said, “Tell me you like the ballet.”

She whispered, “I like the ballet. I love the ballet. I really,reallylove the ballet.”

Maxence slowly pulled his hand away from her and used a handkerchief to wipe her slipperiness off of his hand. “You forgot to call me Sir, pet.”

A sound like a tiny sob escaped Dree’s throat. “I hate you, Auggie.”

Yes, she would be ready for what he wanted when he got her back to the hotel.

After the ballet, the hotel had scheduled a car pick up directly outside the rear entrance. A black town car was waiting for them as they emerged.

Maxence wrapped Dree in the formal coat he’d bought for her and hustled her down the stairs to the waiting vehicle. As the chauffeur drove them back to the Four Seasons, Max watched the traffic behind them through the driver’s side rearview mirror.