A Stealthy Fondle
“Oh,” Neuvillette says. His head turns. “Your Grace—”
And a whole bunch of things happen all at once, too many for Wriothesley to process. Neuvillette rises and the rest of his body follows his head. His hair swings away from his ass, and Wriothesley, who was just about to catch that loop of hair in his finger, finds that same loop drifting away from him. He can’t snatch his hand back fast enough, and his fingers brush the curve of Neuvillette’s ass.
Neuvillette freezes.
Wriothesley freezes.
The Melusines don’t freeze. They inhale as a collective, their tittering gasps filling the hall.
Wriothesley accidentally copping a feel on Neuvillette solves a decade of emotional and relationship turmoil.
