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Forced Engagement

"Do you really have to go?" Bradon asked, though he probably already knew the answer very well.

Every morning, when I woke up in bed with him and had to go out to meet Desmond, he would hug me from behind and press his face against my back while asking the same question.

"I have to go," I replied as I gently stroked the hands he had placed around my waist.

"Do you want to go?" he asked softly, his face still nestled against my back.

"I don't want to go, but that doesn't mean we can spend the whole day in bed together either," I replied, trying to suppress my urge to giggle. I felt his arms tighten around my waist before Bradon pressed his lips against the side of my neck in a tender and lingering kiss.

"What are you thinking about? You're clearly spacing out," Desmond's abrupt question sliced through my thoughts like a sharp, merciless knife, snapping me back to reality.

The one I was with wasn't Bradon but the king of this country. Desmond stared at me with stern eyes from across t
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