Chapter 81

The ride back to the hotel was quiet, the hum of the city passing by as Monique nestled against me in the back seat. She had a contented smile on her face, her fingers tracing absentminded circles on the back of my hand. The meal, the wine, the night air—it had all been perfect.

When we arrived at the hotel, the concierge greeted us with a warm nod. “I trust you had an enjoyable evening, Monsieur Moreau?”

I gave him a grateful smile. “We did. And I appreciate your assistance earlier.”

He inclined his head. “It is always our pleasure. Welcome back.”

Monique squeezed my hand as we entered the elevator, the doors closing with a soft chime. I could feel her gaze on me, that mischievous glint returning to her eyes.

“You handled that situation with such authority,” she murmured, stepping closer. “It was ... impressive.”

I arched a brow. “Impressive?”

She smirked, leaning up to brush her lips against my jaw. “And attractive.”

I chuckled, slipping an arm around her waist as the elevator chimed our floor. “Then perhaps I should remind you who’s in charge tonight.”

Her breath hitched slightly, but she met my gaze with open challenge. “I’d like to see you try.”

Back in the suite, Monique kicked off her heels, stretching her arms with a soft sigh as I moved to the bar to pour us each a drink. The rich notes of aged whiskey filled the air as I handed her a glass and turned on some light jazz.

We stood by the window, looking out over Geneva, the city lights shimmering against the darkened lake. The view was breathtaking, but my focus was on her—on the way the dim light played against her smooth skin, on the way she took slow, deliberate sips, her lips curving in satisfaction.

“You’re staring,” she teased, setting her glass down.

I smirked. “Admiring.”

She hummed, stepping closer, slipping a hand over my chest as her other trailed down her thigh, lifting the hem of her short dress just enough to reveal the delicate lace of her thong.

“I think,” she whispered, “you enjoy being teased.”

I exhaled slowly, my grip tightening on my glass. “Not tonight, Monique.”

She arched a brow, clearly amused, but when I took the drink from her hand and set it aside, she tilted her head in curiosity.

“Oh?”

I stepped forward, closing the space between us, my voice low. “Tonight, you won’t be the one in control.”

She inhaled sharply, her pupils dilating with excitement. “Is that so?”

I nodded. “Take off the dress.”

She bit her lip but obeyed, slowly pulling the straps down her shoulders, letting the silky fabric slip down her body until it pooled at her feet. Left in only her lacy bra and thong, she looked up at me through dark lashes, her breath coming quicker.

I took her hand, leading her toward the floor-to-ceiling balcony doors. Geneva stretched out before us, glittering and alive. I opened the door, and the cool night air rushed in, raising goosebumps along her exposed skin.

“Go outside,” I murmured.

She hesitated for only a moment, then stepped out onto the balcony. I followed, closing the door behind us.

“Hands on the railing,” I instructed.

A visible shudder ran through her as she did as I asked, pressing her palms against the cool metal, her body facing the city.

I stepped behind her, letting my hands skim down her back, over her hips, my fingers tracing along the thin lace of her thong.

“Do you like this?” I murmured against her ear.

She exhaled a shaky breath. “Yes...”

I ran my hands lower, feeling her shiver beneath my touch. “You love the risk, don’t you? Knowing that anyone could look up and see you standing here like this.”

She moaned softly, pressing back against me.

I smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

I took my time, my touch slow, teasing, making her tremble against the railing. Her breath grew uneven, her body taut with anticipation.

“Don’t move,” I murmured, gripping her waist. “Stay just like this.”

Monique stood on the balcony, her hands gripping the cool metal railing, the lights of Geneva sparkling in the distance. A light breeze whispered across her exposed skin, sending a delicious shiver down her spine. The feeling of being on display, even if no one could truly see, sent a rush of excitement through her.

John stood behind her, close enough that she could feel his warmth, but not touching her—yet. His voice, low and commanding, sent another wave of arousal through her.

“Do you have any idea how stunning you look like this?” he murmured.

Monique let out a breathy sigh. “I can imagine.”

John’s fingers trailed lightly along the curve of her hip, barely there, making her body ache for more. “You love this, don’t you?”

She nodded, biting her lip. “Yes.”