Chapter 37
THIRTY-SEVEN
The plate of egg and avocado toast I’ve made for Amelia is balanced on my arm as I knock on the door of our spare room.
Without waiting for a response, I walk in, expecting to see her still curled up in bed.
It’s almost noon, but I wanted to let her sleep.
She did almost the whole day yesterday already, but Morgan said the rest would be good for her head.
And I need her to be good again as soon as possible.
My heart skips a beat when I find the room empty, the bed neatly made, as if it hadn’t been slept in at all.
“Princess?” I call out, setting the plate on the desk with shaky hands. Panic starts to bubble up inside me, threatening to overflow, and I fumble for my phone, frantically checking the tracker app I installed.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I mutter under my breath, cursing myself for letting my guard down.
How can she be gone?
I was just in the kitchen, for fuck’s sake.
Has somebody snuck in to get her?
My mind races with horrific scenarios, each worse than the last. Images of Amelia hurt, scared, or worse flash through my head, making me feel sick to my stomach.
I spent all yesterday combing through files, checking if her work had been uploaded to the cloud like Jamie has, trying to trace any sign of her laptop. I thought I was being thorough, vigilant. But I haven’t found shit and now, standing in this empty room, it feels like I’ve failed her even more.
The tracker pings, showing Amelia’s location right here in the apartment. Relief washes over me for a split second before I spot her phone on the nightstand, innocently charging away.
The panic comes rushing back, stronger than before, like a tidal wave threatening to drown me. “Amelia!” I yell, my voice cracking with fear. I’m certain she’s gone, taken right under my nose while I was making her fucking breakfast.
The en suite door bursts open with a cloud of steam. Amelia rushes out sans glasses, wrapped in nothing but a fluffy white towel, her damp hair clinging to her face and neck.
Her stormy blue eyes are wide with concern as she asks, “What happened?”
The relief that floods through me is overwhelming, like a dam breaking.
I throw my phone on the bed, cross the room in two strides, and pull her into my arms, hugging her tightly against my chest. I bury my face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the clean scent of her skin and my shampoo, feeling her warmth against me.
“I thought I’d lost you,” I murmur against her shoulder. “I came in, and you weren’t here. I just… I panicked.”
Amelia’s hands stroke my back, her touch soothing. The gentle pressure of her fingertips traces patterns along my spine, sending a wave of calm through my tense muscles.
“I’m right here,” she murmurs, her breath warm against my ear. I hold her even tighter, unable to let go just yet. My arms tremble slightly as I pull her closer as if she might disappear if I loosen my grip even a fraction. “I’m fine, really,” she insists.
There’s a hint of concern in her tone, and I can picture the worried crease between her brows without even looking. I have to explain myself to her, or she’ll think I’ve lost it.
Maybe I have.
“When I was seven, I snuck away from Grandpa to watch my parents on the news. They were reporting from the middle of a war zone.” My voice catches, the memory still raw after all these years, but I push on.
“All of a sudden, bombs started going off. I watched live as smoke and debris engulfed them before the stream cut out abruptly.” The image flashes in my mind as vivid as the day it happened.
Amelia’s hands still on my back, and she tenses against me. Her breath hitches, and I know she’s imagining the scene, trying to put herself in my shoes.
“I thought I’d just watched them die on live TV,” I continue, the words heavy with long-buried emotion. “We didn’t know they were alive until days later.”
Those days of uncertainty had been the longest of my life.
That’s all I could think about when I saw Amelia lying on the floor through the monitor. I wanted to reach through and get to her, just like I wanted to get to my parents then.
My hands cup her shoulders, thumbs brushing against her collarbones, needing the physical connection to ground myself.
“Grey,” Amelia breathes out. “I’m so sorry.”
I shake my head, my thumb reaching up to brush her cheek.
“I’m not telling you this to make you feel sorry for me.
I want you to understand why I’m like this.
Why I have problems with overprotecting the people I love.
I feel like I have to. I can’t just stand by and do nothing.
I need to protect you.” The words tumble out, raw and honest, laying my vulnerabilities bare.
Something I’ve never shared with anyone before.
“Love?” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
I lean back, taking her face in my hands. Her damp hair clings to my fingers as I gaze into her eyes, which look somehow bigger without her glasses, seeing a reflection of my own emotions there.
“Yes, love,” I whisper, the admission both terrifying and liberating.
Without another word, I lean in to kiss her, a gentle, sweet kiss. Her lips are soft and taste faintly of mint. My thumbs caress her cheeks as I pour all my emotions into this kiss.
I love her.
Everything about her.
Amelia sighs, her breath mingling with mine as she melts into the kiss, and her fingers thread through my hair.
What started as sweet and gentle slowly transforms into something more intense when my cock reminds me that she is in my arms in only a towel. My hands slide down to her waist, pulling her closer as her lips part, inviting me in.
Our tongues meet, tentative at first, then with growing urgency.
Amelia’s fingers tighten in my hair, a small moan escaping her throat.
The sound sends a jolt of electricity through my body, and I respond by pressing her against me, eliminating any remaining space between us, letting her feel how hard she already made me.
The kiss becomes a dance of lips, tongues, and wandering hands. My fingers slip under the hem of the towel at the back of her thigh, tracing patterns on the soft skin. She arches into me, her body molding perfectly against mine.
I lose myself in the sensation of her—the taste of her lips, the scent of her skin, the feel of her body pressed against me. Every nerve ending is on fire, alive.
I pull her back with me and break the kiss to sit down on the edge of the bed, with her standing between my legs and my hands coming to rest on the back of her thighs. I start to kiss her arm, savoring the silkiness of her skin against my lips.
“Grey,” she breathes out, her fingers threading through my hair again.
I’ve never been happier about wearing it long.
My mouth glides over her collarbone, teasing the sensitive skin with suction, knowing full well that it’s likely to leave a mark.
Mine.
“Wait,” she protests and attempts to pull me away. I relent, gazing up at her flushed face. “I slept with Misha.”
A chuckle escapes my lips. “I know.” Undeterred, I return to her other collarbone, eagerly kissing and sucking there as well.
She tries to pull me away a second time, but this time, I resist, biting on her tender flesh.
“And I-uh… kissed Oliver.”
“I know,” I murmur again against her skin before leaning back and guiding her onto my lap, well aware that my sweats are the only thing between her cunt and my straining cock. My hand reaches for her throat, making her gasp. “You’re ours.”
Her eyes go wide as I pull her to me and fuse our lips again.
Without breaking the kiss, I shift backward on the bed, pulling her with me.
She follows eagerly, her hands gripping my shoulders for balance, her thighs pressing against my hips as she settles her weight on me again.
With my hands on her hips, I pull her down on me while I push my hips up into her.
So fucking hard.
“Fuck,” she breathes out against my lips.
I swallow her soft moan as my hands roam her back, tracing the curve of her spine. Amelia rocks against me, sending sparks of pleasure through my body. My hand trails down to her ass, gripping it firmly, pressing her closer to my raging hard-on.
I reluctantly break the kiss to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along her jawline and down to her collarbone.
I need more.
“Can we take this off?” I ask, already pulling the seam of the towel down.
She nods, and I suck in air as more of her pale silky skin is revealed.
“That’s right…” I breathe out. The towel is quickly pushed off, showing me all of her freckled skin and perfect, small tits.
“Oh, there she is. Look how fucking beautiful you are.”
“Grey.” My name is a plea on her lips.
Trailing kisses down her stomach, I gently lower Amelia onto her back, placing a pillow under her head and supporting her with a hand behind her neck to protect the bump on the back of her head.
Following to lean over her, I push her legs open, exposing her perfect cunt. I lick my lips in anticipation as I take in the sight of her, already glistening for me.
She reaches out to grab the hem of my shirt, but I grip her wrist. “Ah-ah. No touching me right now. If you want my clothes off, you’ll have to ask nicely. Maybe, maybe, I’ll take them off. But you’re not in charge right now, are you?”
“No,” she whispers, her chest heaving with each ragged breath.
“No, no, you’re not,” I say, a smirk playing on my lips. “That’s a good girl. Tell me who’s in charge.”
“You,” she says with a moan.
“Goddamn perfect,” I praise, pulling her closer, my hand gripping her hip tightly, and all I want is to sink my cock into that perfect dripping cunt.
But I want to play with her first.
I waited so long for this.
I lean in close, feeling her breath on my lips. “You want to kiss me?” She nods, her eyes wide and pleading. “Open your mouth,” I command, and she obeys instantly.
God, I love how easily she does what she’s told.