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“Yes.” I take a step closer, feeling the air crackle between us. “You’re the first person I have slept in a bed with, and I hated sleeping without you last night.”
Her eyes widen at my admission.
“I hated that you weren’t in my bed in my arms.” The words tumble out before I can hold them back. “Every second I lay there, I wanted you next to me. Not just for show, not for sex, but because I want to feel you beside me.”
She opens her mouth as if to respond, but no words come out.
“Instead, you chose to hide away and lock me out.” My voice hardens, frustration boiling beneath the surface. “Do you have any idea how much that stings?”
Amelia’s expression shifts. “It’s getting complicated. We’re getting complicated.”
“Complicated?” I step even closer until there’s barely any space left between us. “This isn’t complicated! It’s simple—I want you. All of you.”
I grip her shoulders, and she flinches but doesn’t pull away.
“Now,” I continue, my voice dropping low and fierce, “I’m taking you to the bedroom.”
“What?” she gasps.
I don’t wait for her answer; instead, I grasp her waist and flip her over my shoulder and storm upstairs to our bedroom. Laughing as she hammers her fists on my back.
“West…” Her voice lifts. “What are you doing? We’re still arguing.”
“We’re not arguing. You want real.” Inside the bedroom, I lift my foot, kicking the door behind us.
I step toward the bed, dropping her onto her back and straddling her. “You think we’re playing roles here?” My voice drops even lower. “We’re not fake. There’s no act.”
She swallows hard but holds my gaze steady with one that’s fiery.
And damn if that doesn’t fuel my desire even more.
“Now tell me,” I say softly, “that you want me.”
Chapter 22
Amelia
Sunlight spills through the large windows, casting a soft glow around the room when I wake the next day. I stretch, then slide out of bed, trying not to wake West.
The remnants of last night linger in my mind. His kisses, the way he held me close, the way he fell asleep with his cock still inside me, not wanting his cum to escape.
Now, that can’t be good for me.
I tiptoe away from the bed. The plush carpet is soft beneath my feet before I hit the underfloor heating of the tiled bathroom floor.
I turn on the shower, then pee while the steam fills the space. I step under the warm water, letting it heat my body.
A few moments later, West joins me under the spray. “Morning, beautiful,” he says, a lazy grin stretching across his face.
I turn to face him, water cascades down his muscular body. “Morning,” I reply, my voice still husky from sleep.
West reaches for the shampoo, squeezing a dollop into his palm. “Turn around,” he instructs. I comply, and his strong fingers begin massaging my scalp.
“Mm, that feels nice,” I murmur, leaning into his touch.
“You know,” he says, his voice low and close to my ear. “My mother’s going to start pestering you about wedding arrangements soon.”
I stiffen. “How should I deal with that?”