Page 137 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 1-4

‘In what way?’

‘I’m obliged to be obedient,’ she said, wondering at the way his eyes flared and his body tensed. ‘It’s a part of my role. I do as I’m told.’

‘Always?’

‘You’re probably the first thing I’ve done for myself since I was a girl.’

One corner of his lip twisted in response to that.

‘You might develop a taste for breaking the rules.’

‘I doubt it,’ she sighed with mock sadness. The truth was that Astrid didn’t intend to let anything dampen this moment. These few snatched nights were hers to enjoy. ‘I have people to keep me on the straight and narrow, most of the time.’

‘Thank goodness they’re not here right now, because I intend to take you very far off course, Queen Astrid.’

Her heart thumped. ‘Is that a promise?’

His hand moved then, dragging her wrist behind her back, so her body jutted forward, her breasts pressing to his chest. She expelled all her breath, her eyes clinging to his, begging him to kiss her. Begging him for everything.

‘We made our agreement last night, didn’t we?’

Their agreement had been simple. On the twelfth night of Christmas he’d leave and she’d start the New Year with renewed commitment to how her life had to be. She would delete his number, he would delete hers. They would never see one another again. Even if his project were to be undertaken, they’d take care not to cross paths. That was Astrid’s stipulation. She needed things to be clean and clear cut. The lingering hope that she might see him again had the power to unspool her meticulously planned life.

‘I don’t remember us saying anything about you corrupting me,’ she murmured, the words thrumming with a hint of her excitement.

‘Then you weren’t paying close enough attention.’ He squeezed her wrist and dropped his mouth to claim hers in the same movement. Her heart stammered, her pulse throbbed and her every cell and nerve ending rejoiced, because his kiss was sheer, passionate perfection.

He pushed her trench coat from her body and let it fall to the floor, his hands easily dealing with the satin blouse she’d tucked into a flowing skirt. The moment his fingertips connected with her skin she cried out, because she knew what was coming and needed him so badly. He understood. She could tell, because he sped up, removing her clothes with frantic speed, each item rapidly dispensed with until she stood naked and trembling in front of him. Just a woman before a man.

‘Glorious,’ he said with a shake of his head, almost as though he resented her that. His voice was dark but his touch was fiery hot, the same burst of need evident in the terse lines of his body. But he was lifting her before she could do anything about his clothes, carrying her to the pale leather sofa and laying her across it, standing up and observing her for a moment before he brought his body over hers, his head level with Astrid’s.

‘You have to tell me if you want this to stop.’

She furrowed her brow, genuinely not understanding.

‘You’re not used to this. You’re not experienced. If anything hurts—’

‘It won’t,’ she said, knowing that he would take care of her. Knowing that he’d never hurt her.

He pressed a finger to her lips though, his eyes holding a serious light when they met hers. ‘Promise me, Your Majesty.’

A thrill ran the length of her spine and she nodded quickly, before nipping his finger with her teeth, relishing the way his pupils flared and his cock jerked against her through the fabric of his pants.

‘Careful, little one. You are playing with fire, you know.’

‘So I gather…’

His response was to kiss her again, hard enough to press her head back into the sofa cushions, to make it hard to breathe, impossible to think. He kissed her until stars filled her eyes and her body was flooded with a white hot need. Then, in a deprivation that made her cry out, he dragged his mouth lower to her breasts. Her nipples were peaked, begging for his attention. He gave it to them willingly, his mouth moving from one to the other. His hands taking over where his mouth left off, cupping her breasts, teasing her pert nipples, squeezing them in between times so the sharpness of that contrasted with the warm sensuality of his mouth. The waves of passion and pleasure were overtaking her completely.

She cried his name as he dragged his mouth lower and she knew what was coming next. She knew and she needed, so badly, for him to kiss her in her most sensitive parts. To drive her wild in a way only he was capable of. But he didn’t. Not at first. He started so slowly it was almost agonising, his tongue flicking her lightly, his breath breathing across her sex. She whimpered and twisted her hips, silently begging him for more. For all of him. Every ounce of his attention, his skill, his talent.

‘Tell me what you want,’ he said gruffly, flicking her with his tongue once more.

Her eyes dropped to his, her cheeks warm, her lips parted. She was sure they were bright red from the way she been digging her teeth into them.

His finger moved against her most sensitive cluster of nerves then, touching her so lightly she whimpered. ‘Please.’

‘Please what?’