The Billionaire Prince’s Daughter (European Billionaire Beaus 2)

She bit her lip. “Artur, we’re at the palace—”

“My family’s palace.” He tipped her back onto the blanket that had been set out for the shoot, her body unbelievably glorious underneath him, and took the opportunity to shed his own clothes. “What do I have to do to keep your attention where it belongs?”

“I don’t—”

He decided on spreading her legs and dipping his head to taste her.

That did it.

Amy arched her back, and from the little mewl she let slip between her lips, he thought she’d stretched like a cat. She tasted so sweet as he licked up and down her slick folds, drinking in her desire. He circled her clit with his tongue, heart pounding, every moment seeming momentous somehow. When he focused his attention on that swollen nub until she came, it was like the earth shattered around him.

He held himself over her then, careful not to press too much against her but desperate to be inside of her.

“No...this way.” Amy lifted her arms to him and he helped her up, only to find himself pinned on his own back as she straddled him, her hands in his chest. She climbed on with a wicked look in her eyes, lowering herself down inch by inch, torturing him until they were fitted together, exactly how they belonged.

Artur ran his hands over her breasts, her

belly, and down between her legs as she worked her hips back and forth, driving him nearly to insanity and past the brink. His own orgasm caught him off guard. He gripped her hips tightly, keeping her still, and at the end of it she laughed, satisfied with herself.

He struggled to catch his breath. “You’re so sexy.” He reached up to stroke the side of her face. “And you’re brilliant, too. You should have a better platform for your ideas. You’re good at what you do. Excellent.” He was babbling on and on, but something in Amy’s face had changed from satisfied desire to irritation. “What is it?”

Amy climbed off of him and stood up, moving quickly to the table. She grabbed one of the robes there. “You know, Artur...” Her voice was sharp. “I’m not a sexual charity case.”

He pushed himself to his feet. “I never said—”

“I don’t need you to cater to my ego—I need you to find the perfect woman. One who can help your image. Be a real princess. Otherwise, what excuse do I have for—” She shook her head.

Artur’s heart had twisted in two. “Why can’t that be you?” He spread his hands in front of him. “I’ve been saying that all along. I don’t want them. I want you.”

“It can’t be me.” Amy’s voice broke. “It can’t. I’m not...I’m not built for this.” And before he could say another word, she turned on her heel and fled.

14

“Ms. Branch? Ms. Branch—I’m so sorry to wake you. Amy—” There was a light touch on her shoulder, and then a shake that woke Amy from sleep with a snort. She rolled over, covering her mouth with her hand, and peered up at Sasha.

“What’s wrong?” Amy’s mouth felt dry and gross. She pushed back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Sasha stepped to the side, a tablet in her hands. “What time is it?”

“It’s half past eight.”

“Oh, crap.” Amy stretched, trying to work out the kinks in her back. “You saved me, then. There’s a meeting at nine, so I’d better—”

“There’s something you should see first, Ms. Branch. Amy.”

Amy took another look at Sasha. Her cheeks were red, but it wasn’t a happy flush. “What is it?”

Sasha took a deep breath. “It seems that some photos have been released to the tabloids.”

Amy’s stomach dropped straight to her toes, coming to a screeching halt somewhere beneath the floor. “The maternity pictures?”

Sasha cocked her head to the side. “No—I don’t know—”

“Show me.”

The maid turned the screen of the tablet on and turned it toward Amy.

The good news was that it wasn’t the maternity pictures. The bad news was that it wasn’t just pictures.

There was a video, too.