Chapter 22 #3
“Ugh…” She groans, but the sound is cut short as I sweep in and kiss her deeply, my hands wandering down to roam her thighs, sliding under her button-up sweater and up to her waistband. The feel of her skin under my fingertips is intoxicating, and I want more.
“What are you doing?” Amelia asks, a hint of nervousness creeping into her voice, “They might come back.”
“They won’t. Not yet,” I breathe out against her temple, my lips trailing down the side of her face. “Trust me?” She nods, her eyes locking onto mine, filled with a trust that humbles me. “My goal is to never make you feel pressured but always desired. You can tell me no, Amelia.”
“I want you.”
That’s all I need.
I hook my fingers into the waistband of her leggings and panties, pulling them down in one swift motion as she lifts herself from the piano. I sit back down on the bench, my heart pounding in my chest.
I’m eye level with her now, her most intimate part exposed to me, her bare legs dangling down, mindful of not touching the keys.
I grab her calves and kiss up each leg, making her moan and lean back, her body arching in sweet surrender.
The scent of her arousal fills the air, and I can’t resist the urge to taste her, to make her cry out in pleasure.
I lean in and breathe her in deeply, moaning before my tongue darts out, teasing her, tasting her, and her fingers thread through my hair, pulling me closer, urging me on.
“More, please. I need you.”
I nibble her clit, making her buck her hips into my face before I kiss the inside of her thigh and lean back.
“I like the begging, but you’ll get what I give you.
” Standing, I pull her to me, away from the piano and to her feet before guiding her to sit on my lap, her back to my chest, the heat of her almost undoing me even through my pants as she settles on my aching erection.
“Play for me,” I tell her, a command laced with desire.
She turns to look at me, her eyes wide with surprise, and stammers, “W-what?”
But I’m already slipping my hand under her sweater again, seeking the heat between her legs. Her eyes flutter closed as I find her clit, circling it, feeling her respond to my touch with a soft moan.
“Play for me, baby,” I murmur against her ear, my breath a warm whisper that makes her shiver. Her fingers, ever so slightly trembling, find the keys, and she starts to play “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,” making me laugh.
Little minx.
Her body rocks with the rhythm of the piece, and there’s a stutter in her playing as I push a finger inside her. She leans back against me, her head resting on my shoulder.
“Good thing you can play with your eyes closed,” I whisper, my breath hot against her ear as my lips trail down her neck. Her skin is soft and warm under my mouth, and I leave a mark just below her hairline—a secret hidden away, known only to us.
My fingers continue their relentless dance between her thighs, stroking and teasing with a rhythm that has her breath hitching, her hips instinctively bucking into my hand.
I press deeper, feeling the wet heat of her arousal and the way her body tightens around my fingers.
The sound of her breathing grows ragged, punctuated by soft whimpers that send a shiver of anticipation down my spine.
My cock throbs with a desperate need to be inside her, to feel that tight warmth envelop me. But not yet. Not until I’ve pushed her to the edge.
My mouth continues its assault on her neck, licking and sucking, drawing out more of those delicious sounds that drive me wild.
When I sense her getting closer, her body trembling with the effort to keep playing, I withdraw my fingers, savoring the slickness on them.
I bring them to my lips, licking them clean one by one, each taste a sweet reminder of how much I own her pleasure.
Her eyes flutter open in surprise as I stand, leaving her no choice but to follow.
Her lips part, a soft gasp escaping as she looks at me, her chest rising and falling with each labored breath.
I don’t give her time to think before I open my pants, freeing my aching cock.
The sight of it makes her eyes darken with desire, her pupils blown wide as she anticipates what’s coming.
I sit back down and pull her onto my lap, positioning her above me.
In one swift, fluid motion, I thrust into her, filling her completely.
The heat of her surrounding me, the way she clenches around me, it’s almost too much.
My hands find her clit again, rubbing in perfect time with my thrusts, each movement sending sparks of pleasure through both of us.
“Play,” I command, my voice rough with the effort of maintaining control. Her hands tremble as they return to the keys, but her playing is erratic now, notes stumbling over one another as she struggles to focus on something other than the relentless rhythm of my thrusts.
Her moans grow louder, more desperate, the music forgotten as she succumbs to the pleasure coursing through her body. Her hands leave the piano, gripping my thighs instead, holding on tightly. I feel her cunt clenching around me, gripping me hard.
But I’m not ready to let go just yet.
I lift her off me, pulling out of her with a groan.
The sight of her flushed and swollen cunt, glistening with her arousal, is almost more than I can take.
I reach out, my fingers stroking up and down her slick slit, teasing her entrance as I stroke my cock with my other hand.
The contrast between her soft heat and the tight grip of my own hand threatens to overwhelm me.
Her eyes meet mine, her expression one of pure, unrestrained desire. She’s completely at my mercy, and the power of that knowledge sends a thrill through me. I continue stroking her, watching her squirm, her body still quivering.
“Fuck,” I whisper, barely able to keep control. “You’re so damn beautiful like this. Play,” I tell her again, but she shakes her head, her eyes meeting mine with a desperation that takes my breath away.
“I can’t,” she pleads, “I need you back inside me. I need to come.”
A slow smile curls my lips as I recognize the power she’s handing me. “Say please,” I insist, my tone laced with the authority I know she craves.
“Please,” she breathes out, the single word a surrender that sends a jolt through me.
Gripping her hips, I guide her back down onto my lap, filling her once more with a driving need. Her tight, wet heat envelops me, gripping me like a vice, the sensation so exquisite it borders on pain.
“Just like that. Fucking take it, baby. It’s yours,” I growl out, my hips surging up to meet hers, my fingers finding her clit, circling and pressing until she’s crying out my name, her body writhing and convulsing around me as she shatters into a thousand pieces.
The sound of my name on her lips, the feel of her tightening around my cock, it’s my undoing.
I can’t suppress the tide of ecstasy that rises within me, the climax that builds and crests.
I let go, surrendering to the pleasure that rips through me, my release pulsing forth as I fill her completely, marking her as mine in the most primal way possible.
Holy shit.
I hold her close, our breaths mingling, and I want to stay like this forever, with her cunt wrapped around me, but reality starts to seep back in, reminding me that we can’t remain in this bubble forever.
Morgan and Grandpa absolutely could come back home any minute, and now that I’m thoroughly fucked out, I understand that that would be…
Unfortunate.
I press a soft kiss to her temple, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on her thigh.
“You’re incredible. I would love to just stay like this, but we should probably get our clothes back on.”
“You’re right.” I watch as Amelia stands, a soft gasp escaping her lips as I slip out of her letting my cum glide out of her and down her thigh.
I want to push it back inside her with my cock.
Reaching for a tissue on the dresser next to me, I clean her, then myself, before disposing of the evidence in the bathroom. When I return, Amelia is already dressed again.
I feel a surge of pride at her thoroughly fucked appearance.
I did that.
Amelia’s smile warms me as I approach her, and I can’t resist pulling her close for a kiss, whispering against her lips, “That was amazing.”
“It was. Such a good thing you found me,” she murmurs, her voice filled with affection.
The words send a pang of guilt through me, twisting in my chest like a knife.
My expression falters, and I can see the change register in Amelia’s eyes.
They narrow, studying me with a critical intensity that makes me want to look away.
But I force myself to meet her gaze, knowing I owe her that much.
“Right… exactly how did you find me? How did you know where I was?” she asks, her tone shifting from warmth to wariness.
God, I fucked up.
“Amelia, I—” I try to explain, my words coming out hesitant and fumbling.
She takes a step back, creating a physical distance that mirrors the emotional chasm I feel opening between us. Her face clouds with suspicion, and I see the trust I’ve just managed to build back up starting to crumble.
“How did you know I was there, Grey?” Her voice is sharp now, demanding answers.
I swallow hard, knowing that the truth will hurt her, but unable to lie.
The words feel heavy on my tongue as I confess, “When you were attacked, I installed a tracker app on your phone. I only used it once before, when you went to London, but I was looking for you earlier and couldn’t find you, and I panicked, so I checked it.
I’m sorry. If you give me your phone, I’ll uninstall it right now. ”
The hurt that blooms in Amelia’s eyes is like a physical blow.
Her brows furrow, and I see tears welling up, threatening to spill over.
My heart aches, and I instinctively reach for her, wanting to comfort her, to explain, to make it right somehow.
But she pulls away, her body language closing off as she wraps her arms around herself protectively.
“You told me to trust you,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, but each word strikes me like a thunderbolt. “You said you would never overstep my boundaries again. You said this would stop. You said no more secrets.”
The accusation in her tone is unmistakable, and I want to defend myself, to explain that I only did it out of concern for her safety, but I know that any excuses I make now will only sound hollow. I’ve broken her trust, and the realization of what that might mean for us fills me with a cold dread.
I’m at a loss for words as Amelia moves toward the door.
My heart races, and a cold sweat breaks out on my forehead.
Instinctively, I follow her, my feet moving of their own accord, but she turns on her heel, holding up a finger.
Her eyes, usually so warm, are now cold and hard.
“Don’t follow me like the fucking stalker you are,” she spits out, her voice laced with venom.
She leaves, slamming the door behind her, and all I want is to chase after her, to explain, to beg for forgiveness.
But my body is torn between following her and respecting her wishes.
Fate intervenes as my phone vibrates on the piano, the sound jarring in the sudden silence.
I grab it, still intending to follow Amelia, but pause when I see Morgan’s number flashing on the screen.
My thumb hovers over the answer button for a split second before I swipe to accept the call while I head out, my voice tight with tension. “Morgan, can I call you back—”
“Grey,” Morgan’s tearful voice cuts me off, shaky and urgent.
The sound of it sends a chill down my spine, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I come to a standstill.
“You need to come to the hospital, now,” she chokes out between sobs.
“Grandpa, he… it’s bad…” Her words trail off into a muffled cry, and my world tilts on its axis.