Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
FRIEDRICH
The Hildegard Parlor is on the ground floor of the palace, hidden in a maze of private rooms and offices so rarely used these days.
It was designed as a room for a king or other nobleman to hide his mistress, but is now named for Queen Hildegard, my many times great-grandmother from the eighteenth century, who was caught in here with her lover, the Countess of Milford, Lady Victoria.
The legend goes that her husband, King Alfred, found his wife with her head buried between the countess’s legs while the latter bucked and writhed on the couch.
The door creaks and my cousin hisses, “You fucking owe me.”
She backs away, and Aurelia slips in, her cheeks a delicate rose that makes my pulse tick up. The door snicks shut behind her. Sweet and spicy perfume dances subtly around me, and my cock stirs.
I’m on her in another heartbeat, pushing her against the door and pinning her there with my hips.
Her lips are pure perfection, and I can’t fuck that up, but I have to taste her.
Her neck arches to me as I place gentle sucking kisses along the curve.
The neckline of her dress is begging my attention, and the creamy white skin above her breasts is on prominent display at the sweetheart cut of her bodice.
“Fritz,” she gasps as I slide my tongue under the fabric and find a pert little nipple waiting for me just below the hem.
“You have no idea what it does to me when you say my name like that,” I murmur against her breast.
“I think I do,” she stammers as I give the other the same treatment.
I pull my head back so I can see the hazy lust in her eyes.
The green is muted and dark tonight under the sparkling eyeshadow that matches the pale golden ballgown billowing around us.
Yards of tulle and netting are keeping me from pressing my growing erection right where I so desperately want it.
I want to cut through it like a jungle explorer so I can rub my clothed cock against that sweet pussy.
“Do you know what it was like watching you dance with those other men?” I can barely keep the rage from my voice.
“Is His Highness jealous?”
She’s actually smirking right now, and I want to kiss that teasing expression right off her face. Grabbing her wrist, I place it against the bulge in my dress greens. She gasps, and the mocking grin is replaced with a perfect ‘O’ and damn if I could slide my cock between those luscious lips.
“I may be able to detach myself in my mind,” I say, willing my brain to make that true. “Convince myself that I have no right to be jealous, but he has other thoughts on the matter.” I grind myself harder into her small hand.
“Oh, god, Fritz,” her words come out in barely audible breaths. “I’ve been on fire for you since I walked in and saw you in your military uniform.”
My chest swells at her admission, and my blood is fit to boil. “Are you wet for me, Nanny Sumner?”
She nods, biting the corner of her lip in that way that always makes me go mad.
“Can I see?” I’m begging, and I don’t give a shit if I sound like a needy little bitch. I am a needy little bitch for her.
“Please.”
I hear the same desperation in her voice, and I drop to my knees without a second thought.
I peel back layers upon layers of taffeta until I reach the prize in the middle.
I can barely see a thing under all this fabric, but her scent beckons to me like the incense of the Lord, and I’m helpless before the altar of Aurelia.
I bury my nose in her clothed sex and inhale the sweetness there.
She’s pure and clean and all woman, and I’m already leaking in my pants.
I hook my fingers in the elastic of her panties and slide them slowly, slowly down her legs, trailing kisses behind them as I go.
She steps out of them carefully, and I tuck them in the pocket of my trousers for safekeeping.
Gripping the back of one calf, I guide a leg over my shoulder, opening her up to me even more.
Her thigh quivers as I drag my tongue from her knee to where leg meets pelvis.
I want to tell her all the things I feel every time she gives herself over to me.
How her trust in me makes my heart full.
How her sweet attentions make me ache in my stomach.
How I want to worship her body with my entire being and never let another goddamn human taste the goodness that is Aurelia.
But she won’t hear me under meters of fabric, and the little dragon of jealousy is still roaring in my chest, and there’s only one way to quell him.
I dive in face-first, claiming her cunt with my mouth.
Mine. She whimpers above me, and it stokes the fire in my veins.
Her clit is a swollen button of need, and her hips buck against me as I roll my tongue against it.
Wetness soaks my beard as I alternate licking and sucking, and when I graze my teeth across the sensitive flesh, the most delicious filth starts to pour from her sweet mouth.
“Oh, god, Fritz. I love the way you eat me. God, your tongue feels so good.”
My cock pulses painfully behind my zipper, trying to break free of its confines.
At this rate, I’m going to come just listening to her get off.
She finds my head through the fabric and holds on as she starts to unravel.
Her words turn to jumbled mutterings, and her legs begin to shake, and I continue to worship her heavenly pussy.
Her hushed whispers of my name turn to guttural moans, and her whole body tenses and then relaxes as I hear a solid thunk against the door and know she’s thrown her head back as her orgasm crashes over her.
My only regret is not being able to see that look of sheer ecstasy.
I don’t want to get up from here. I want to stay hidden in this tent of a dress with my face in her sex forever, but the logical part of me knows Trixie can only run interference for so long.
And even though my dick is screaming for its own release, I got what I came for, and the burning jealousy is now a low smolder.
She’s put her claim on me, too; her juices coat my face, and I’ll wear it proudly the rest of the night.
Trying to extract myself from the billowing skirts of her gown is decidedly ungraceful, and the quivering need coursing through my muscles is certainly not helping.
I remain on the floor a moment longer, knelt in supplication, basking in the glow of my sweet princess as she tries to rein her body back under control.
The flush gracing her chest only serves to make me want to chase it to its conclusion, and my cock is still screaming in protest at its lack of attention.
I stand, adjusting my slacks against my straining erection. A small strand of hair has come loose from her tight updo. She shivers at my touch on her forehead as I slide the errant piece back. My lips on hers are light as butterfly wings so as not to fuck up that hard-on inducing red.
“We should get back.” Her lips are still mere centimeters away, and I’m fighting with every ounce of my being to keep from ravaging her right this instant.
“You go, I’ll be along shortly.” No! Stay!
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.