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)
Eventually, we decide to call it a night.
When we slip out, the cool night air feels like a shock after the heat of the ballroom. The limousine waits, its black body gleaming under streetlights. I open the door and help her in, her dress rustling as she slides across the plush leather seat. I settle beside her, and call for the partition to be raised, needing for it to be just us, sealed in our private world scented with leather and faint champagne.
My chest tightens, anger and frustration surging again—not at her, but at the world that’s kept us apart, at the life I’m trapped in.
“Amelia,” I say, voice rough, leaning closer because I mean every word that is coming out of my mouth. “I don’t care anymore what anyone thinks. I’m ready to start over with you. Just us. We can go anywhere in the world you desire. No one will know us, and we can just be another ordinary couple.” The words spill out with reckless abandon, but it’s a fantasy that I’ve held since that summer, and now I am committed to bringing it to pass.
At these words, however, her face falls, pain flashing in her eyes. She shakes her head, her hand covering mine. “Max,” she whispers, voice trembling, thick with emotion. “What about Jason? You can’t leave him.”
I drop my head into my hands. Jason. I have to ask myself if I am truly selfish enough to do this. I would want nothing more than to have him with me, but I am pretty sure that Sara will never agree to this. Which court is going to give Jason to me when they find out my incestuous situation? My big plan is only a dream, a selfish wish I can’t follow. Jason’s small face, his gray eyes, and his shy smile flash into my mind, and I feel like such a heel for even thinking of leaving him.
I can’t leave him, can’t break his world for mine.
“You’re right,” I murmur, voice low, defeated. “It’s just… I can’t help thinking there must be a way to make this okay, for us to be together.” My hand tightens on her thigh with desperation.
She shakes her head sadly. “No, Max. There isn’t. Not without hurting Jason.”
I lean closer, my breath mingling with hers. “But we have a little time left, Amelia. Let’s not waste a moment.”
Her eyes soften, a tear glistening, and she nods, leaning into me. “Okay,” she whispers, voice breaking. “Let’s make these last few days count.”
Her lips find mine, soft, urgent, a kiss that’s all fire, tasting of champagne. I groan, pulling her closer. I can’t help myself. I’m frantic to feel her. Right now, more than ever, I can feel her slipping through my fingers.
Her dress rides up, exposing soft, pale skin that glows under the limo’s dim lights. My hands slip under the fabric, desperate, finding her warm, smooth, and satin-like under my palms. She moans breathily into my mouth, the sound a spark that sets my blood on fire. I kiss her deeper, my tongue savoring the sweet, addictive essence of her. My chest aches with a love so fierce it’s tearing me apart. Her fingers clutch my jacket, pulling me closer, and I’m drowning, lost in her.
Fuck it. Fuck it all. After all, we’re only stealing from a world that wants to rip us apart.
I tug at her panties, the black lace catching on the curve of her hips, delicate and maddening. She shifts, lifting slightly, helping me slide them down, her breath hitching, a sharp, needy sound that drives me wild. The lace tears, and I push it aside, my hands trembling with desire.
“Amelia,” I growl, as I slide my fingers along her inner thigh, tracing the heat radiating from her core. She’s dripping, slick and ready. I slip my fingers in, feeling her wetness coat my fingers, her warmth pulling me in.
“Max,” she gasps, her hips rocking into my touch, chasing the friction.
I’m so hard, my cock strains painfully against my trousers, begging for her. My fingers stretch her gently, her tightness a sweet torment. Her head tips back, blonde hair spilling over the leather seat, catching the city lights streaking past the windows. I watch her, enthralled, her lips parted, eyes half-closed, the pupils dilated and enormous.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” I whisper, as I finger fuck her.
Her breaths come faster as her hands fumble at my belt, the metal clinking softly. Unzipping, freeing. My cock springs free, thick, pulsing, and she wraps her hand around the shaft. Her touch is firm and warm. Her thumb brushes the tip, slick with need, and I’m shaking, desperate for her, for this. A rumble vibrates from my chest as pleasure sparks through me.
“I need you,” I rasp, lifting her onto my lap, her dress bunching around her waist, the silk a vivid green against her flushed skin.