Pouting, Fleur wasn't happy that there was no clear winner. If Gabrielle was still bonded to them, they could easily tell because they would have felt her orgasm. Blaming Lisa all over again, her wife's touch soothed her bad mood.
"Let zem talk. You vill take me to bed now, oui?"
The eldest Delacour rolled onto her back and sat up. Looking expectantly at her wife, she was anxious for some alone time. Gabrielle grasped the retreating hand of her lover and tried to draw the fingers back in. It felt right to have them there, inside her. Worn out, the blond woman looked her age, a young woman wearily watching the others.