Billionaire Prince, Pregnant Mistress. Sandra Marton

      “Of course, but—”

      “You will leave with me, tonight.”

      “You cannot do this to—”

      He bent to her and kissed her. Kissed her as if she belonged to him, his tongue in her mouth, his hands cupping her bottom, lifting her to him, into him, into the heavy thrust of his erection.

      “And,” he said thickly, when he finally raised his head, “you will warm my bed until you finish the job.”

      “No!” She shook her head as if to emphasize her refusal. “No,” she said again, her voice high and wild, “I’ll never—”

      “You will, or I’ll do what I should have done when you left my bed the first time. I’ll tell the queen about our little adventure. I’ll tell her you’re not worthy of designing her gift or of working in proximity to her. And then you can stay in this loft and forever live with the knowledge that you failed at the one thing that could have changed your life.”