Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
I pull back, my breath heaving, and look at her—flushed, spent, her chest rising and falling, her eyes heavy with a mix of awe and shame. My heart aches, a love so fierce it hurts, and I know this moment, this sin, is ours, a secret we’ll carry to our grave.
Because this is a fire we can’t extinguish.
Chapter
Twenty-One
AMELIA
My body is still reeling from the intensity of Max’s mouth on me, his tongue an inexorable fire that’s burned through every defense I had. I’m sprawled on the bed, the duvet a tangled mess beneath me. My naked body is flushed and slick, and my thighs still tremble from the orgasm that shattered me moments ago.
I had forgotten how good he is—his lips, his hands, the way he ate me out like a man possessed. My breath comes in soft, ragged gasps, my chest heaving, my heart a wild drumbeat echoing in the moonlit room,
Max gets up, his bare chest glistening with sweat, his blue eyes bright with hunger, a hunger that hasn’t faded even the tiniest bit. In fact, it burns hotter now, and I’m caught in it, unable to look away, unable to stop what’s coming.
His hands move to his sweatpants, slow and deliberate, his fingers grazing the waistband, the fabric sliding down his hips with a sigh, revealing the hard lines of his body—corded muscles, the rigid V of his pelvis, the thick length of his cock, stiff and pulsing, a promise that steals my breath. My heart races like crazy, and I’m startled by his intensity, the way his trembling hands betray his longing, his undying passion, his desperation. He steps out of the pants, naked now, his skin catching the moonlight, a sculpture of strength and vulnerability, and my hands itch to touch him, to trace every inch I’ve missed for fourteen years.
“Amelia,” he whispers, and his voice breaks on my name. It is a sound so raw it sends a shiver rippling through me, making my skin prickle and throb with need. He moves toward me, his strength a quiet force, and takes me into his arms, lifting me effortlessly. My legs wrap around his waist, my naked skin pressing against his. Heat, oh pure heat.
And a furnace that ignites every nerve.
His lips brush my ear, warm and soft, his breath a caress that makes me tremble. My hands slide up his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart, a rhythm that matches my own, frantic and alive. He lowers us to the bed, the mattress yielding beneath our weight, the quilt soft and cool against my back, a contrast to the heat of his body covering mine.
His mouth finds my jaw, a slow, lingering kiss, his lips tracing the curve, tasting my skin, seeking, and I arch into him, a soft moan escaping.
“God only knows how much I’ve missed you,” he growls, his lips moving to my throat, kissing the pulse point, his tongue flicking against it, sending sparks skittering down my spine. “I missed you so much, Amelia. So, so much. If you knew… if you only knew.”
His confession cracks me open, grief and longing tangling in my chest, the years we lost a quiet ache beneath the pleasure.
“What about Sara? Don’t you feel guilty?”
He frowns. “No. Sara and I have an arrangement. We’re not exclusive. The clause was put into our pre-nup more for her than me. I didn’t love her, even then, so I thought it was only fair to give her the chance to find love with someone else.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, Oh,” he whispers and kisses every inch of me, deliberate, reverent, his lips mapping my body like a pilgrimage. His mouth trails to my collarbone, soft and warm, then lower, to the swell of my breasts, his breath hot against my skin. He sucks my nipple hard, a pull that makes me gasp, my hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, the sensation a jolt of pleasure that pools low, making me wetter, needier. His tongue swirls, teasing, then moves to my other breast. His teeth graze, then, a gentle bite that draws a whimper. My body pushes up against him, seeking more.
“Max, don’t make me wait any longer,” I gasp, my voice trembling.
He groans, a low, guttural sound that vibrates against my skin. His hands grip my waist, betraying his desperation, his love. He flips me gently, his strength controlled, and I’m on my stomach, the pillow cool and smooth against my cheek. My breath rattles as his lips find the nape of my neck, kissing softly, then trailing down my back, a slow, burning path.
His tongue traces the curve of my spine, tasting every vertebra, his hands sliding down my sides, fingers digging into my hips. It’s an act so possessive it makes me shudder. He kisses the small of my back, his breath warm, then moves lower to the curve of my ass. His lips are soft, reverent, a worship that leaves me trembling. My hands fist the quilt, my moans stifled against the pillow.