Page 31 of Pregnant After One Forbidden Night

They had so much to do, so much to plan and learn about each other and the world they would build for their child.

They wanted the same things, even the ones they couldn’t have.

Her brown eyes locked on his green.

He was beautiful—slightly amoral or not.

She was far past being able to tell which he was, only that a part of her was convinced he was hers.

Either way, it didn’t matter. He fascinated her.

Like magnets, they stepped toward one another, erasing the space between them in synchronized movements, as if greater powers had choreographed them.

He opened his mouth.

She licked her lips.

His eyes locked on the motion, and he swallowed.

“The baby,” she said.

He nodded. “We need to talk about the baby.”

She nodded, heat rising to her cheeks, her skin tingling and alert. “First and foremost.”

The tension between them stretched tight, egged on by the heat, and the sumptuous library, and the man she had already proven she was willing to risk everything to touch.

And then he was closing the space between them on a strangled oath, his arms coming around her.

Jenna sighed into his mouth as he took hers, her body weeping with the relief of giving in and the end of the tension of resisting her attraction to him.

Her body was a cascade of needs, a rush of wanting him that demanded everything all at once—sensitive, hot and famished.

She wanted to bite him, wanted to savor him and wanted him inside her, ravishing and soft and gentle, all at the same time. The immensity of the conflict came out as a growl against his lips, which, devil that he was, only made him smile.

The experience of kissing him the first time had been an awakening, and earlier, in the kitchen, a dreamy whisper. Now, it was an incendiary, sparking a fire he’d built deep inside her, her skin flushed hot and her nerve endings blossoming into sensitivity greater than she knew what to do with.

She was transcendent, the incredible rushes of pleasure leaving her desperate for more, holding on to her form as long as it took for the entire universe to break apart.

When his hand cupped her breast over the thin, soft fabric of her dress, she moaned into his mouth. As if the sound had aggravated him beyond control, he swept her into his arms before carrying her to the sofa, where he lay her down, never breaking their kiss.

Her hands explored his chest and shoulders, adoring the softness of his sweater against them as they trailed toward the hemline. There, she slipped her fingers beneath the fabric of his clothing to feel his hot skin pulsing beneath her hands.

His breath caught at contact, and a hot rush pulsed at her center. That this man, powerful enough that he could direct an international espionage program, trembled for her—plain, Priory Jenna—shook her to the core.

Abruptly hating that clothing separated them, Jenna pulled him close, driven by an urge to fuse with him that she knew he felt just as powerfully.

And then his pocket trilled, vibrating and ringing a jaunty tune absolutely out of place amidst the hungry sounds of their breathing.

Gasping, she looked around, momentarily disoriented as he pulled back to slip the device out of his pocket and hold it up. In that moment, he was disheveled and real and completely within her reach, his clothing off-kilter, and hair tousled where her fingers had run through it. And he looked as shaken as she was.

“It’s the king. I have to take this,” he said, distancing himself from her more effectively with the words than even the large steps away he took as he straightened his shirt and moved to answer.

It was as if a bucket of icy water had been spilled over her.

Jenna shivered, now cold where she had been on fire only moments before.

Incredibly, it seemed the king’s reach extended even further than she had ever imagined. The monarch had somehow managed to insert himself into yet another shameful encounter with Sebastian, despite the fact that he was hours away and no longer her employer.

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