Page 119 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 1-4

Sleeping with someone as a one-off was simply an experience. She could enjoy this and walk away. She could call all the shots.

‘I’m in charge,’ she said, breathily, as acceptance began to spread through her with the most delightful sense of euphoria.

‘Are you?’ he teased in a gruff voice, lifting his head so he could look into her eyes. A frown flickered on her expression and, for a moment, certainty wavered. Would anyone ever truly be in charge when Javier Diamandi was their opposition?

‘I have to be,’ she added.

‘We want the same thing, Your Majesty. You can relax.’

‘I don’t think I know how to relax.’

His eyes narrowed imperceptibly. ‘You’ll learn.’ He released one hand then, moving it to her hip, his touch hypnotic as he dropped his mouth and began to kiss her, slowly again. His tongue probing her, his other hand keeping her captive, so she was, physically at least, the very opposite of being ‘in charge’.

It was the hand at her hip, though, that was her undoing. For it did not stay at her hip long. Instead, he moved it down her leg, just far enough to grab the fabric of her dress and lift it, to push beneath it and find the lace trim of her briefs.

‘Javier,’ she tried to say, but he was kissing her. She didn’t care anyway. She didn’t want him to stop. She only needed to process the intimacy of his touch. Not once had a man attempted this. Not once had there been the opportunity.

Her skin flushed with heat and her heart raced with adrenaline and excitement, but that was nothing compared to the sensations that flooded her when his fingers pushed beneath the fabric of her underwear and began to brush her sex. Her cry would have torn through the palace had it not been for his kiss swallowing it.

He smiled against her mouth. She could imagine the smile. The smugness of it, the arrogant certainty of what he was doing to her. She didn’t care, so long as he kept doing it. Curiosity was a wave, engulfing her, and she refused to swim away from it.

He nudged at her sex and then his fingers were inside her. She bucked her hips, shocked and heated by the feeling, as her muscles clenched in a way that gripped her abdomen. Her whole body felt as though it had been shocked. He moved his mouth to her ear. ‘You are so wet, Your Majesty. I could take you right here.’

She whimpered, pressing her teeth into her bottom lip, as his imagery filled her mind and desire took over. She wanted, in that moment, for him to do exactly that.

‘I could drive into you and make you mine. I could make you cry my name at the top of your lungs. Is that what you want?’

‘Javier,’ she groaned, because she did want what he was describing. Even if it meant every palace servant came running and saw what they were doing. In that precise moment, she didn’t care about her reputation, about her heart, about anything.

He moved his fingers outside of her. She moaned, but then he was touching her in a way that was driving her wild, brushing her quickly. New sensations were overtaking old and stars were filling her eyes, making it impossible to think, or be silent. As if anticipating the way her voice would raise, he moved back to kissing her as his fingers brushed and moved and, finally, tipped her over the edge of orgasm, into a place of bright, uncontainable pleasure.

Her breath was rushed. Everything felt blurry. Her legs wobbled.

He pulled back and looked down at her, his eyes seeing everything on her face, his cheeks lightly flushed, his eyes glittering.

‘That is only the beginning, Your Majesty. Come to my home this evening and I’ll show you what I mean.’

He pulled his hand away, smoothed down her dress, then, finally, took a step back. She couldn’t help but notice the way his pants were straining, the visible evidence of his own arousal. It was so primal that her insides sparked with renewed need.

Astrid had no idea if she could stand without the door’s support so she didn’t try. She tried to hardwire her brain into thinking properly. She tried to remember who she was, at her core, to respond to Javier’s invitation as she should, not as she wanted to. But her brain seemed waterlogged, pleasure fogged, and all she could do was stare at him. Which did nothing for the return of her sanity. He’d been impossibly gorgeous before he’d turned her bones to jelly, but now? He was the definition of female fantasy and he was propositioning her.

‘This is wrong,’ was all she could say, but it didn’t sound particularly convincing.

‘Says who?’

She expelled a slow breath and tested the strength of her knees. To Astrid’s surprise, they held her upright.

‘Astrid.’ He closed the distance between them once more, resting a hand on one side of her head, palm against the door. ‘Listen to me. You are a grown woman. Yes, you are also the queen of this country, but that doesn’t mean you have to deny yourself pleasure. It doesn’t mean you are purely a queen.’

‘You don’t understand.’

His eyes bore into hers. ‘Probably not,’ he conceded. She was relieved. She didn’t want this man, of all people, to diminish what her life was like. The way she had to prioritise her duties, to never put a foot wrong.

‘Being a queen is who I am,’ she corrected gently. ‘It matters to me.’

‘Then bring a tiara,’ he suggested, a small smile tugging at his lips, as he lifted his other hand and curled it around her cheek. ‘This will be our secret.’

Secret.