otives!"

"Are you sure you want to continue boasting, Quenet? I wouldn''t mind sticking my head out again and telling that bearded man the person they''re searching the whole city for is right here with me."

"Raphael!" Edith scolded him.

"The Republic aptly names this season Fervidor; it''s truly scorching weather. Watching you two make out so unabashedly, I''m also feeling unbearably hot!" Raphael said as he unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his well-defined abdominal muscles.

"You have no shame, Saint-Clemont!" Andre reprimanded, his face turning red.

"You two carry on," Raphael waved his hand nonchalantly. "For lovers who have escaped death, what kind of revelry shouldn''t be forgiven? But I also deserve my share. Forget not, youth and love are present here too!"

His words triggered a peculiar reaction among the ecstatic lovers: Edith and Andre''s kisses took on a more erogenous hue.

She felt the hardness beneath her growing even more, gradually lifting her up—last night was too hurried and filled with despair, she didn''t have a chance to fully experience the details. Now she truly felt what a scorching and vibrant rod he possessed, and her love juices instantly soaked her scanties. She felt extremely embarrassed, unsure if he had sensed her lustful response, yet reluctant to let go of his embrace.

"Stop, my dear Edith," Andre abruptly let go of her, his face flushed, and gasping for breath. "Otherwise, right here in this carriage, in front of him, I will take you."

"Why not? Andre? Edith?" Raphael lea