Page 27 of The Mistress (Foxgloves #1)

AMELIA

A melia’ s vision was red and blurry at the edges as she stormed upstairs to her bedroom.

She had lost the ability to think when he kissed her. Never before had he kissed her like that. It set her body on fire. Such an exquisite fire, she thought she would die in the pleasure of it. Her clothes had felt too tight, the air too heated, her blood too frenzied. Amelia’s body had been alive in ways she had never experienced, and it was all because of Gideon. When her nipples hardened and strained against the bodice of her dress, he’d freed her from it, causing her core to melt. Her skin had tingled in the wake of his lips as he moved along her jaw, down her neck, over her breasts. And then when he’d bitten her…she had felt that bite right between her thighs.

She hadn’t been able to recognize the needy sounds escaping her. Her whole body was overstimulated, heart hammering uncontrollably in her chest. And the need. The need for more. More, more, more. It was like nothing she had ever felt before. She needed everything. She needed him . She couldn’t understand the need coursing through her, but she had held on to him like he was all of it. And he was. Oh, God, he was.

Then, the man she loved called her a whore.

Amelia had called herself nothing less over the past day, knowing it’s what she would be, but to hear him call her that. To know that’s what he thought of her.

She reached her room and slammed the door shut behind her without meaning to. Her fury was so overpowering, she couldn’t stop moving as she paced along her room, wishing she could throw and break things.

Amelia had spent the last day grieving, worrying, and hurting as she planned to become Gideon’s mistress. She had barely been able to sleep as her mind obsessed over the thought.

But he was manipulating her. He took her trust, her love, and he twisted it. He turned it into a weapon to make her what he wanted. And she had allowed it unquestioningly. Thinking he still cared for her. Respected her. Loved her. That it was only because of their vastly different stations in life that they were forced into such a circumstance.

Now, as she tried to force her jittery body to sit on the edge of her bed, she felt confident in her decision. At least in this moment. Maybe it was spur of the moment, maybe it was driven by emotion, maybe she’d regret it later. But right now, as she sat on her bed, hands atop it on either side, leg bouncing erratically…. Right now, she meant it.

It was one thing to love each other and be together as best they could within the rules of Society, a peer of the realm and a gentlewoman. It was something else entirely to think her a liar and a whore who slept with men for convenience and gain. For money. She was not that, had never been that, and if that’s what he thought of her, then he’d never known her at all. Let alone loved her.