When I opened my eyes, I was back in my bed, and the lights of Monaco were already starting to fade against the arrival of a new dawn. What happened with Phillipe? How did the night end? Of course you want to know what happened, girl. The answer is... not much. At least, not with him. Let's take it from the top.
Yes, Phillipe is incredible. The vibe with that vintage projector couldn't have been better, his body was reacting to mine, and he kissed like angels are supposed to kiss. Everything was going perfectly, but then I noticed it. I realized he felt like he had to tell me something important. So, we stopped and talked for an hour or so.
Nothing alarming. Turns out the playboy of Monaco is actually gay. Yeah, Phillipe. In his own words, he was desperate not to lose this trophy he'd earned by conquering incredible women. But nope, he's not into them. Between laughs and running his hands over me, he ended up confessing that while he was kissing me, he was thinking about Bruce the entire time. Even though I felt a bit rejected and my pride was a little wounded, I don't judge him. He has good taste, no doubt.
And right then—and this is why I'm telling you all this, pay attention, girl—right then, he told me something I never expected. He said he'd noticed that Bruce, the rugged, gorgeous detective we all love... had flirted with him.
Imagine my no way face! And no, it couldn't be, because then Phillipe corrected himself and said:
"Sorry, it was the other way around. I flirted with him, but I felt like there was a connection between us. Maybe it's just my imagination."
I don't want to try and put myself in his shoes. Sometimes we think the truth is only what our eyes can see. Phillipe and Charlotte are billionaire fraternal twins, perfect and absolutely beautiful. They love each other, they have each other, they shouldn't need anything. They came into this world on the complete opposite end of the spectrum from where I ended up. Yet, he confessed to me that he's always felt poor—not financially, he meant affectionately. He knows he likes guys, but he's never actually been with one physically. I asked him:
"You've never kissed another man?"
He replied, "Never. I've kissed a thousand women and zero guys. You're the first to know. I work perfectly with the ladies, I'm very physical, I react to the kisses and the touching. No one had ever realized before. My sister—my god, I did everything to hide it from my sister. Don't tell her yet."
Hold on, girl, because now comes the good part. The really good part. When we got back to the apartment, arms around each other like good friends, we found Bruce in the grand living room. He was waiting for me, sitting there in the early hours of the morning in one of those majestic armchairs. Evangelina was asleep on the plush rug, naked at his feet. He was reading a blue-covered book about the legend of ancient symbols. He gave me the sign to be quiet, holding up a finger, and extended his hand for me to come over.
Phillipe veered off to the bar to pour some drinks, and I went over to where my detective was calling me, whispering so his cousin wouldn't wake up:
"What are you doing up? Why aren't you guys in one of the bedrooms?"
He replied, "We were waiting for you. We saw you leave with Phillipe and assumed you'd be back very soon. Maybe there's something Evangelina and I noticed about him that you didn't. It actually surprises me that you took this long..."
Inwardly, I thought, Damn! How smart and observant both of them are. But I didn't want to break my loyalty to Phillipe's secret, so I replied that I didn't know what he was talking about. That was until the pretty blond guy walked over with the drinks and Bruce—just like I'm telling you—grabbed me by the waist and pulled me onto his lap. From there, he called out to Phillipe:
"Isn't my Carmilla gorgeous?"
When he nodded, Bruce looked him dead in the eye and asked:
"Am I not gorgeous too? Or do you like her more?"
Phillipe looked at me, feeling betrayed, but Bruce took his hand and clarified:
"Carmilla hasn't said a word. But my cousin and I... you must have seen what they say on TV about the Bances. The two of us have a gift. We are... how should I put it..."
Phillipe understood and finished the sentence. "I know. You're some of the smartest people on the planet. A journalist writing a biography about you guys said so. So you noticed. Yes, I like you more, but I'm not interested. So let go of my hand and let me go to sleep."
Bruce smirked and told him, "Go to sleep. Or you can stay and watch."
Phillipe completely flushed, but his charming personality shone through. Smiling gracefully, he told us, "Since you want me here to heighten your impure desires with my presence, I'll stay. But I don't plan on touching you, even if you beg for it."
The three of us had a bit of those drinks, and I tried to get up to go to bed, thinking the whole thing had just been a game. But I felt the pressure of Bruce's hand on my stomach, and looking into his eyes, I realized he wanted me right there on his lap. I kissed him on the mouth and said, "I need to rest, and..."
But that hand moved up to my chest, completely bold, tearing open my shirt and leaving me bare. I felt his hard manhood between my legs and, out of vengeance in a sort of teenage game, I started to strip him. I foolishly thought he'd resist since another man was watching, but no. He let me undo his pants, and what started as a joke escalated way too fast when Evangelina... woke up.
The scene couldn't have been more beautiful and chaotic. Phillipe had his eyes glued to Bruce's abs as Bruce tore off his clothes like they were burning his skin. I was sitting there with only my shirt open, leaning back on that sofa, aching for him to take me right then. And her—it took her a second to understand what the hell was happening. She just said:
"I've woken up in some weird situations, but this tops them all."
And right there, as if it were a children's game, she grabbed my hand and pulled me down onto the rug, catching me in her arms as I fell laughing. She covered me with her scented body and yelled, "Nobody touches my Carmilla. Back off!"
Phillipe, laughing, killed the lights and put on some music. Then he took off his shirt and threw himself onto the rug next to us, shaking Evangelina's hand like a soldier and saying with irony, faking an introduction:
"Phillipe, the gay guy. Nice to meet you. I know you already guessed, just don't tell my sister until I do."
She played right along. "I knew it! Yes, it's good for us to reintroduce ourselves. I'm Evangelina. I like women, and I love my cousin and Carmilla. I don't even know what category to put myself in anymore. But hey, you're the least weird one here."
I jumped in and said, "Carmilla. I love two brothers, Killian and Lucius. I like Bruce, I like Evangelina, Moenia... yeah, her too. I would definitely have sex with Phillipe and Charlotte—obviously not together, they're fraternal twins, damn, I shouldn't have clarified that, it sounded way too... well, officially, I'm the weirdest one here."
Phillipe, Evangelina, and I laughed and looked up at Bruce, who was the only one standing. For a second, we expected him to keep the introduction game going, but no. The detective was just standing there completely naked, his hard manhood crowning his strong legs. We stopped laughing instantly. My nipples hardened just looking at him. He ordered us:
"Spread your legs. Both of you, now."
Evangelina and I obeyed, and Phillipe rolled onto his side to watch us, marveled by the power Bruce held over us.
The detective knelt down close, choosing which one of us he would take first, running his hand over my thighs and hers, testing our wetness with his fingers. Phillipe watched, biting his lip. Bruce noticed and leaned slightly toward him so he could get a close-up view. The detective made everyone play their part. He grabbed Phillipe by the ass and pulled him closer to us, while Evangelina turned around and kissed me, letting Bruce penetrate her while she was on top of me. Then he took Phillipe's hand and pressed it against his abs. That prince of Monaco was beyond happy, ecstatic, tracing his fingers down every muscular inch of the detective until he reached the point where Bruce's body and Evangelina's femininity met in fierce thrusts that made me groan too, every time she bit my lips.
I closed my eyes for just a second, feeling the hands and chests moving over my body, the tongues, the scent of strawberries, mint, and alcohol exhaled from their mouths onto me. One of them was touching me masterfully, better than I could have done myself—the perfect rhythm, speed, and depth. So much depth. I opened my eyes and realized it was Bruce with his manhood, teasing me hard before sinking into me. When he did, I let out a choked cry and slammed my fists against Evangelina's back, who was guiding Phillipe's hands toward the detective's ass. I couldn't help but come hard, and he couldn't hold back either. He grabbed his cousin and Phillipe and pulled them down onto the rug next to me, standing up to release himself over us. I was still trembling as everything he gave me slid down my thighs, my breasts, and my stomach, and I parted my legs slightly, wishing every drop would make its way inside.
The image of Lucius and me in front of the mirror flashed through my mind, making my body shudder. Right then, I realized I needed to unleash my animalistic side. I needed to feel like a chosen female, not just one of the pack. It's hard to explain, girl, but my night—the battle of Monaco—didn't end there.
Determined, I left the three of them kissing on the rug and took a shower. One of those showers you need to wash away thoughts and passions, to cleanse your body of scents and pleasure. I almost succeeded, but when the towel finally wrapped around my breasts to dry them, I realized the desire was still there, pooling inside me. I still hadn't gotten what my body was insistently begging for. I wanted to be treated like the queen of the pack. I needed to mate with the alpha. I'm not lying to you, girl. In the mirror, I saw myself like that—like a she-wolf howling at a fading moon. I'm not going to blame it on hormones. I don't know, it feels like what I'm experiencing is much, much more. At the end of the hallway, far from the rest, the heavy door to Lucius's room echoed loudly as I slammed my hand against it.
He opened it completely naked and said, "Little girl, what are you doing up at this hour? What are you looking for?"
I put one foot in front of the other and walked in without answering. My mouth was open, panting for him. The image from my visions—with his arms holding me from behind, pregnant, looking at myself in the mirror—rushed into my mind. I was possessed by desire. He noticed and stripped the towel away from me. I pressed against his chest and rubbed my face against his muscles like a cat purring for food. I kissed him over and over. His hands gripped my ass tightly. My core ached for him. He was the strongest. He was everything to my body. It was still night out, and I wanted him deep inside me. I needed everything he was willing to give me.