Page 39 of Symphony for Lies (Tangled Truths #2)

Zane's POV

“Of course, I still want you.”

Her sinful, sweet whisper sent a sharp, electric jolt through me. My blood boiled, and the last fragile thread of my self-control snapped in half.

I lowered my forehead against hers, eyes clenched shut, fighting the raging hunger clawing at my insides.

Amelia smelled like roses. Like warmth. Like her. Like something that kept pulling me back, again and again, until I was fucking wrecked with need.

One hundred and twenty-two days, seven damn hours, forty-one minutes, and eighteen endless seconds.

That was how long I had been separated from the love of my life. But she was underneath me again.

My hair fell around her face as I drank her in. Her hazel eyes, fuck, those eyes, they no longer held hesitation or doubt. No.

They burned with something far more dangerous.

Desire.

She didn’t have to say a word.

Her eyes were my command.

Her heart, my fucking obsession.

I would give her everything.

Everything.

Well, except for one thing. She was never leaving me again.

I ripped her flimsy nightgown down the middle.

She gasped, lips parting into the cutest pout as she looked down at the ruined fabric.

“Zane!”

“I’ll buy you another one.” My patience was gone.

I tossed the fabric aside, dragging my shirt over my head and letting it fall to the floor.

I saw her.

And for a moment, just a brief, punishing moment, I forgot how to breathe.

Fuck.

Her skin was silk. Her curves fucking perfect. Every inch of her was a temptation, a slow, agonizing torture designed just for me.

My dick twitched.

I wanted her. Needed her so fucking much it burned.

What I felt wasn’t some fleeting love. It was dark, possessive, and unforgiving.

Amelia wasn’t just any woman. She was mine.

I spread her legs apart, taking in the sight of her glistening, needy pussy.

I gulped.

She was dripping wet. For me.

My fingers dug into her thighs as I dragged the tip of my cock along her slick entrance. My breath was heavy with the effort it took to wait.

To savor.

To not lose control.

But I couldn’t .

I sank into her body, inch by inch, watching as she stretched around me, her walls squeezing and pulling me deeper.

She whimpered, her back arching beneath me, her nails sinking into my shoulders, a delicious sting of pain mixed with pleasure.

“Fuck.”

I tried to hold back, but she was so wet, so hot… she was fucking heaven.

Her breath was hot against my skin, her body trembling beneath mine in pleasure.

“Amelia,” I breathed her name like a prayer, savoring every second, every gasp, every little cry that left her lips.

Her fingers gripped my hair, pulling on the strands.

“Zane,” she breathed. Just the way I liked it.

My grip on her hips became bruising as I pulled back, just to slam into her again harder.

She cried out, her body jerking up to meet mine, taking me deeper.

I was lost. Completely, utterly lost. There was no going back. There was only this. Only her.

And then I heard her trembling voice whimper, “I love you.”

Her words shattered my soul.

Tore apart whatever was left of my control.

Everything I wanted, everything I fucking needed, was right in front of me.

She was with me.

Her lips grazed my ear.“I love you, Zane.”

I lost my mind.

My hips snapped forward with desperate jerks as the tension inside me coiled tighter until I was on the edge of oblivion.

Her back arched, her walls clenched around my length, and her moans turned into frantic, pleading cries.

Pleasure slammed into me. A rush so intense I saw stars .

I pounded into her relentlessly.

So much time had passed where I couldn’t have her, couldn’t touch her. I could only watch from a distance, waiting, aching for the moment she would be mine again.

I had planned to take things slow. To ease my way back into her life. But the second I was near her, close enough to breathe her in, every ounce of patience I had was obliterated.

Amelia was moaning my name, giving me everything, and telling me she loved me.

I couldn’t fucking believe it.

It felt surreal. And yet, it was real.

She was real.

I could taste her on my tongue, feel her heat, and inhale her sweet, elegant scent.

She was mine.

My hands pinned her arms beside her head as I thrust into her with a brutal rhythm.

She looked at me with hazy, lust-glazed eyes, and her lips parted.

I was hers. Completely fucking owned.

I kissed her cheek and jaw, memorizing every little shift in expression, breath, and moan.

She was close. I could feel it in the way her body tensed beneath me, in the way her walls fluttered around my dick, in the way her breath hitched between gasps.

Pleasure surged through me uncontrollably.

I fucked into her harder, faster, pushing her to the edge, dragging her over it with me.

Her voice broke as she shattered beneath me, screaming my name.

And fuck, I lost it when her eyes rolled back.

Pure ecstasy crashed through my veins, stealing every rational thought I had left.

I blasted inside her, kissing and groaning against her damp skin, whispering her name like a vow.

I stayed in deep, holding her body, refusing to let her go.

Not ever.

I held her against my chest, pressing slow, reverent kisses to her cheek, forehead, and swollen lips.

Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, her flushed skin damp with sweat.

She slowly opened her eyes.

Perfect. Fucking perfect.

A sleepy, satisfied smile curled on her lips.“And once again, we did things out of order.”

I stilled.

And then laughed.

A real, deep fucking full laugh.

The first one in One hundred and twenty-two days, seven damn hours, forty-one minutes, and eighteen endless seconds.

“Baby, forget whatever order you’re talking about.” I kissed her, slow and deep, my fingers threading through her hair.“You’re mine. Forever.”

“Zane, when are you going to talk to your mother? ”

I leaned back in my office chair, bored out of my mind, while my father paced the room, running a frustrated hand through his graying hair.

“When I’m ready.” I shrugged, barely glancing at the stack of documents on my desk.

My thoughts were elsewhere, exactly where they always were. On her.

Just hours before, Amelia had been tangled in my embrace, her body warm against mine, her lips curling into the sweetest, sleepy smile. And later, in the bathroom—

“Zane!”

The sharp slap of my father’s palm snapped me back to the present.

“I know your mother made a mistake, but you know she only wanted what was best for you.”

Best for me? I exhaled slowly, dragging my gaze from the documents to meet his cold, expectant stare.

“I’ll talk to her. When I decide to.”

He crunched his teeth.

He knew that I didn’t belong to him.

I didn’t belong to anyone.

Except Amelia.

I had built my own empire. I made my own money and played by my own rules. I no longer lived in their shadow, no longer needed their validation, and I sure as hell didn’t need their approval.

“Suit yourself.” He turned sharply, storming out the door and slamming it shut behind him.

Ryan, my assistant, entered the room looking just as pissed as my father.

“Thanks for that! Now I’m going to have to listen to them bitch about you for the next few hours.” He shot me a glare. “Couldn’t you at least pretend to be obedient?”

I barely reacted, flipping through the finance reports for the upcoming gala with disinterest.

“Want a smoke?” Ryan offered, already pulling out his pack.

I shook my head.

I had quit the day when Amelia wrinkled her nose outside Cozy Corner at the scent of cigarette smoke on me. I hadn’t touched one since.

I ignored Ryan’s exasperation. “Did you get what I asked for?”

He handed me a file. Ella Aria’s.

I had requested it to uncover whatever the hell that girl was hiding. Her parents had already crumbled under pressure, but she was an enigma.

I could still see that smug, victorious smirk on her face when my mother announced— sold me off —that pathetic engagement.

My fingers tightened around the paper as I skimmed through the information.

Flute lessons with Mr. Watson for several years.

That name… Why did it feel so familiar?

“You look creepy. What’s wrong?”

I shook my head. “Nothing.”

But my gut told me otherwise.

I tossed the file aside.

The entire situation was a goddamn headache, but I wasn’t backing down. Ella would pay for everything Amelia had been forced to endure.

“Mr. Cole, what should we do about Miss. Walker’s rent payments?”

“What rent payments?”

Ryan sighed. “You bought the entire building, remember? You specifically told me to hold off on notifying Miss. Walker. We still need to send out the ownership change and updated lease agreements soon.”

I leaned back in my chair, unimpressed. “The apartment belongs to her.”

Ryan looked stunned. “What?”

“Calculate how much she’s already paid and return it to her.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s my wife. ”

He scoffed, “You’re twenty-six and very much unmarried. Try again.”

A smirk curled on my lips. “Our order of things is… complicated.”

Ryan’s expression twisted into almost genuine concern. “You know, you’re really starting to freak me out.”

If he knew half the thoughts that crossed my mind, if he knew the things I wanted to do to Amelia, he’d be fucking terrified.

The idea of locking her away, keeping her forever, had crossed my mind too many times.

She wanted her own space.

I hated it.

I wanted to tear down every wall between us.

The only thing that kept me from doing it was knowing that she was already bound to me in ways she hadn’t even realized yet.

Ryan muttered something under his breath and left, shaking his head as he slammed the door.

I let my mind slip back… to her.

Three years prior, I vowed to never perform for my mother again. She forced me into music the same way she tried to push Simon, and I had only continued playing to keep her off his back.

I despised the violin.

I hated the song she always demanded—the one that symbolized the beauty of life.