Chapter 34
Chapter
Thirty-Four
MAX
Her words had hit like a fist.
Wild anger at the very thought of losing her flares hot in my chest, and frustration burns through my veins.
Stop? Why? Because everybody else says so?
All these ‘people’… who are they? They are nothing to me.
Why should I bend my will to theirs? What business is it of anybody who I take as my lover?
The idea of ending this bliss is like an imposition I can’t bear. The ballroom beyond the velvet curtains—laughter, clinking glasses, the band’s slow jazz—is drowned by the storm in my chest.
I pull back, her face still in my hands, but her words hurt so much because there is truth in what she says. Am I really going to hurt Jason? And Sara’s imminent return looms. Like a ticking bomb—and yet the thought of letting her go feels like death.
I square my shoulders, and without a solution for my predicament, I guide her back to the crowd, my hand on her lower back, the silk of her dress warm under my palm. The gala continues around us, guests in tuxedos and gowns, their smiles polished, their eyes glancing our way, but I don’t care.
I have never cared what anyone thought—not the whispers about my wealth, my past, my mother’s status as a housekeeper. And now I have to justify to myself what is stopping me from having her beyond the fact that people would talk.
We dance again, her body pressed to mine, the music slow, sultry, wrapping us in its rhythm. Her hands rest on my shoulders, fingers brushing my neck, and for this moment, I forget the ticking time bomb and just immerse myself in the way she moves, fluid, like she’s part of me.
Every moment with her feels like home, like the life I was meant to live.
I always knew it would be this way, this intensity, this perfect fit like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, which is why I still can’t wrap my head around how she can possibly be my half-sister.
It feels like a sick joke. The feelings I have, the way my body craves her, the way my heart breaks for her—it’s too much, too real for a brother-sister tie.
It’s not right, not possible. Maybe it’s because we didn’t grow up together.
Whatever it is I don’t know, but neither can I voice it aloud, so I keep silent.
The night drags on—speeches, toasts, a silent auction I barely notice—and through it all, I’m restless. My hand finds hers under the table, squeezing tight, needing her to ground me. She squeezes back, her touch a lifeline, but my troubled thoughts refuse to leave.
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.
She straddles me, thighs gripping my hips, and I impale her on my cock slowly, watching her face as she takes me in, inch by inch.
The stretch draws a moan from both of us, as she sinks down, her tightness enveloping me. She is so perfect.
“Fuck,” I groan, my hands gripping her hips, fingers digging into her soft flesh.
She moves slowly, deliberately, her hips rocking, setting a rhythm that’s both torture and salvation.
I thrust up, meeting her, each movement a spark that ignites my nerves.
Pleasure coils tight and hot in my guts as she rides me like a Goddess.
The limo hums along, the city a blur outside, but in here, it’s just us, her body tight around me, her breath ragged against my skin.
I slide a hand up her back, fingers tangling in her hair, pulling gently to tilt her face to mine. Her eyes meet mine, green and blazing, full of love, of pain. I drown in those green lakes.
“I love you,” I murmur.
Her reply is a sob, then she kisses me, deep, hungry, her tongue a soft dance with mine. My other hand grips her hip, guiding her faster, deeper, each thrust a claim on her. I’m mesmerized, watching where we join, the way she takes all of me, the way her body trembles with every movement.
Pleasure builds, tight and unbearable. I thrust harder, deeper.
My fingers find her clit, stroking fast, matching our rhythm.
Her moans grow louder, sharper, and she buries her face in my shoulder to stifle a cry.
I feel her tighten before she shatters, her orgasm a raging wave, her body shuddering uncontrollably against mine.
The sound, the feel of her, undoes me, and I follow, groaning deep, my cock pulsing, my seed shooting into her.
It binds us in this reckless, desperate love.
Panting, we hold each other. Her body is limp against mine. The limo slows as we near home. Her eyes were soft, glistening with tears.
“Just these last few days,” she whispers, voice cracked, raw with emotion. “Let’s enjoy these and hold them in our hearts forever.”
My heart splinters with her words, knowing it’s all we’ll ever have. I understand it must be so, but a part of me still holds hope that there will be a way out. All my life I’ve never known myself to give up on something I truly want no matter what the odds against me are.
The odds are terrible, some would say impossible, but the strength of my desire must not be underestimated.