Chapter 31

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Misha

The atmosphere in our home office is tense.

Grey, Oliver, and I are seated around the large desk, our eyes glued to the screens showing Amelia working in her apartment.

Since I apologized yesterday, she's back to being the Amelia we knew before. Today, we got her to eat lunch with us, and Grey took charge of choosing her food. As we sat together, we talked about the escape room we had completed first as a team. We laughed about the golden magnifying glass they awarded us for winning, while Grey just rolled his eyes at the whole thing.

Back to normal.

But normal feels wrong.

Oliver breaks the silence, his voice tentative, "Maybe we should stop watching her. It might help with the obsession, with the feelings. Maybe it would be easier being friends that way if we stopped."

Grey doesn't even look up from the screen. "You go ahead and stop watching her. I won't. That woman is not able to articulate her feelings or watch out for herself. If I don't take care of her, who will? She certainly doesn't. She hasn't even eaten dinner again. And Jamie is still off. I swear to God…"

"Grey, chill. You sound like a fucking stalker," I interject, trying to keep my tone light but failing to hide my concern.

Grey's eyes flash with irritation. "Oh, you haven't noticed? We are fucking stalkers. All three of us."

Oliver shifts uncomfortably. "That's a little harsh."

Grey's voice is cold. "Oh, sorry, my bad. But I can only please one person per day. Today is not your day, and tomorrow doesn't look good either."

He's been in a really bad mood since we agreed on just staying friends with Amelia, and I don't think that will change soon. But let's be real, I also don't believe that the just friends thing will work out for long.

Someone will fuck up.

The tension in the room is palpable, and I can feel it building, threatening to erupt into a full-blown fight. We've never had a real fight before. Sure, we get hot-headed and argue, but this feels different, more dangerous.

I'm just about to say something to defuse the situation when we hear Amelia yell, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Fucking hell, yes!"

We all snap our heads toward the screen, watching as she jumps up from her couch, excitement radiating from her. She's practically glowing, a huge smile on her face as she looks at whatever's on her computer screen.

A moment later, holographic diagrams, floating notes, and interactive elements fill the room. Digital blueprints hover over her workspace, surrounded by complex equations and detailed schematics. Virtual Post-it notes with reminders and ideas drift around, suspended in midair. The entire space is a blend of reality and digital augmentation .

Amelia stands in the middle of it all when she pushes a button on her glasses, looking around with awe and delight before screaming again, "Yes, yes, yes!" She jumps up and down, her joy infectious even through the screen.

We're all flabbergasted, staring in disbelief.

Grey is the first to speak. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Well, if you think that we just watched her revolutionize the tech industry, then yes, you are right," I mumble.

Oliver's eyes widen. "She just made AR visible to the naked eye."

Grey runs a hand through his hair, a rare look of amazement crossing his face. "Holy shit."

Before we can say anything else, the door to Amelia's apartment opens, and the blonde girl from next door rushes in. "Are you okay? I heard you scream."

Amelia looks startled but quickly composes herself. "Willow, you can't just let yourself in like that," she says, her tone sharper than usual.

We watch as Willow's eyes widen, taking in the AR elements scattered throughout the room.

Oh shit.

"Wow," she exclaims, reaching out to touch one of the floating Post-it notes. She pushes it, and it moves across the room. Giggling, she starts interacting with the AR, rearranging digital notes.

Amelia's worry is palpable as she steps closer to Willow, her voice more urgent. "Hey, that's not a game. Please don't change anything." But the girl doesn't listen to her, and Amelia's eyes dart to the door, her movements becoming more frantic. "Willow, stop."

Then, we hear Amelia's coworker's voice calling from outside the apartment. "Willow, where are you?"

"Here!" Willow calls back just as Amelia manages to get to her laptop and deactivate the AR, making the icons disappear into thin air, and the room looks normal again.

Willow rushes to open the door wider for her father, a grin on her face. "Amelia has a new toy. It's so cool."

"Willow, how many times do I have to tell you… ugh. I'm sorry, Stanley." He rubs his neck. "Come on, Willow, it's time to go to bed."

"I don't like how familiar he talks with her," Grey grumbles.

He fucking calls her by her last name, dude.

Willow pouts, crossing her arms defiantly. "It's only nine."

Her father scowls, his patience visibly wearing thin. "Do you still want that new phone or not?"

Willow huffs, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Goodnight, Amelia," she mutters, dragging her feet as she moves out of the door.

Amelia forces a smile, though her eyes still reflect her lingering anxiety. "Goodnight."

Hendricks gives Amelia an apologetic nod before guiding his daughter away.

As soon as the door closes, Amelia's smile fades. Her shoulders slump further, and she runs a hand through her hair, her fingers trembling slightly. She looks around her apartment, now back to its normal state, and the worry lines on her face deepen.

That was close.

We have to find a way to help her hide it until she's ready to launch… whatever it is.

Amelia locks the door and heads to the bathroom. The sound of the shower turning on echoes faintly through the speakers, and it's the only sound in the office since we all seem to be too stunned to talk.

The things she could do with that .

The lives she will change.

When she emerges, she's dressed in gray sweatpants and a hoodie, her hair damp and clinging to her face.

I watch as she makes a cup of tea, and there's a subtle tremor in her hands as she pours the water. I can't help but notice the way her shoulders slump, the weariness in every movement. She walks to the window, where rain taps softly against the glass, and stands there for a moment. The darkness outside presses in, the rain blurring the world beyond, but it's her stillness that holds my attention. She takes a sip of her tea, and I see her gaze grow distant, unfocused, as if she's searching for something in the rain-soaked night that she can't quite find.

It's hard to watch her like this, knowing she's carrying so much on her own. I wish I could reach out and help ease the burden she's clearly struggling with, but all I can do is watch from afar, feeling the tight knot of worry in my chest grow tighter with every passing second.

After what feels like an eternity, she finally turns away from the window. Her steps are slower now as she moves to the couch, and wraps herself in a blanket. The sight of her like this—small, almost fragile—twists something inside me.

She picks up the remote, and the television flickers to life. The dim glow from the screen highlights her face, casting shadows that deepen the worry lines etched there as the familiar dialogue of Twilight fills the space.

"That's my sign to go to bed," Grey mutters, getting up from his chair.

He's been sleeping like shit the last few days—I know because I was awake, too—so I'm glad he's finally going to rest.

Oliver yawns, stretching his arms over his head. "Yeah, I think I'm done, too," he says, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses .

"Go to sleep, both of you," I tell them. "I'll… keep an eye on her."

I don't have to explain.

They know.

With nods of understanding, they get up and head to their rooms. Once they're gone, I pull up a second camera feed, positioning it so I can watch the movie along with Amelia while still being able to see her. It feels a bit less lonely this way, sharing the same moment, even from a distance.

After the second movie of the series ends, Amelia stretches and yawns but shows no sign of abandoning her spot on the couch. She selects the third movie, and I realize she's not going to sleep anytime soon. I'm not sleepy either, and the idea of both of us being awake but apart feels shittier the longer I sit in it. I grab my phone and text her.

You up?

She jumps at the sound of her phone but leans over to grab it. A smile spreads across her face when she sees my name, giving me butterflies.

Fuck.

It's raining. I'm so not hiking up a mountain in the rain.

Little minx.

And how is the weather inside you?

A little windy. How's your weather?

It's always sunny when you're around.

God, that was cheesy as fuck .

I quickly type another message so she doesn't have to answer that.

How about a hike down to the garage…

Getting into the car…

And going on an adventure to get ourselves some veggie burgers?

She grins, and I can almost hear her stomach growl. She puts a hand on her belly, making me laugh.

Make it chips and I'm down.

Why is her being British such a turn-on?

Or is it just her being her ?

Deal

I'll be there in ten.

Her eyes widen as she looks down at herself, so I quickly text again.

I'm going in sweatpants.

Please match so I don't have to feel underdressed.

Deal.

After changing into said sweatpants and a hoodie, I grab the key card for the Tesla and head down to her floor. When the elevator opens up, Amelia is already waiting. She steps in, her hoodie pulled up. She's still in her sweatpants, too, as promised, and seeing her like this—comfortable, casual, and smiling—makes my heart race.

"Hi," she says, her voice low and warm .

"Hey, Bug," I reply, smiling at her. "Ready for an adventure?"

She laughs. "Always." Arriving at the garage, we exit the elevator, and she looks down at my feet. "How does your ankle feel? Can you drive?"

I walk to the Tesla and open the passenger door for her. "Absolutely. It was just a little strain."

A little strain that hurt like hell for two days.

It's quiet, the sound of the rain on the roof accompanying our drive through the rainy streets as the city lights reflect off the wet pavement. We reach the burger place, one of those all-night joints that always smells amazing no matter the time.

I park in the deserted lot, choosing a spot a little farther off beneath a tree, hoping its branches will shield the car a little from the rain.

"So, fries? Anything else?" I ask, unbuckling my seat belt and turning to face her.

"What? You don't want me to come with?"

"As if I'd let you walk over there in the rain," I reply, smirking.

"How gentlemanly of you," she says, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"I know," I quip back, flashing a grin.

"Make it a large one, please."

"Coming right up," I say, winking at her before dashing through the rain.

The cool rain pelts through my clothes as I sprint over and inside, but nothing can dampen my mood. The place is almost empty, and I quickly order our fries and add two strawberry milkshakes for good measure. Making my way back to the car, I slow down to avoid spilling anything, getting thoroughly soaked in the process.

When I open the car door, Amelia reaches over and takes the milkshakes so I can maneuver into the car easier. I sit down, dripping water everywhere.

Oliver is going to hate me.

Oh well, I bet he already does.

"Oh my God, you're soaked." Amelia laughs. She seems happier, more relaxed, and pride swells within me.

She's smiling like that because of me.

The aroma of the fries fills the car, and her stomach growls again. "Come on, let's dig in. I'm starving," I murmur, handing her the bag.

She takes a fry and bites into it, moaning at the taste.

I love that fucking sound.

"Thanks for this," she says, looking over at me with a warm smile. "I needed it," she adds, taking another bite.

"Always, Bug," I say before taking a chance and adding, "You know, if you're ever awake at night and want company, you can always text me. Chances are, I'm up too."

I open the lid of my milkshake and dunk one of my fries inside, catching her frown.

"That's naughty. Haven't your parents told you not to play with your food?" she teases, raising an eyebrow.

"Naughty, huh? God, that sounds hot with your accent," I reply, grinning.

She scowls, but then a grin curls her lips. "Idiot."

"It's an American thing, dunking your fries in a milkshake. Never seen it in a movie?"

"No, you guys have no taste."

I laugh. "I'm Greek . And you Brits have no taste. You, in particular, microwave pizza."

Her eyes widen. "How do you know?"

My heart skips a beat, but I play it cool. "I just guessed, but now I know." She laughs and punches me lightly on the arm. "Ouch, you're vicious, you know that?"

"Shut up." She grins .

I dip another fry into my milkshake and hold it out to her lips. "Come on, be a little naughty with me."

She hesitates for a moment, her gaze locked on mine, then leans in and takes a bite, her lips brushing against my fingers.

Fuck me.

Her eyes widen in surprise as she chews, then she breaks into a laugh. "Okay, that's actually not bad."

"Told you."

This might have been a bad idea after all.

I try not to feed her again, and we eat the rest of our fries in silence. I'm licking the salt off my fingers, savoring the last of the fries, when Amelia sets her milkshake down and lets out a contented sigh, leaning back in her seat.

"I'm not ready to go home yet."

I raise an eyebrow.

Me neither.

"Do you wanna drive around for a bit or just hang out in the back of the car and watch some videos or something? Talk a little?"

Amelia's eyes sparkle as she considers her options. "Sitting here and talking sounds perfect."

I nod, gathering up the trash. "Let me just get rid of this stuff real quick."

I climb out of the car, the rain immediately soaking through my clothes again. Amelia bursts out from the other side, making a run for the burger place, her hair quickly plastering to her forehead. Laughing, I follow her, using the trash as a makeshift umbrella.

We dash across the parking lot, our laughter echoing through the rain as we dodge some puddles and splash through others, our shoes squelching with each step. When we finally reach the diner's trash cans, I toss the trash away and grab Amelia's hand, feeling a jolt of electricity run through me. Her glasses are fogged up, and droplets cling to the lenses, probably making it hard for her to see.

"Hey, come here," I say, pulling her back into the rain.

She giggles, letting me spin her around, our arms outstretched like wings. We tilt our faces up to the sky, letting the rain wash over us. I pull her close, feeling her body press against mine. We're both laughing, our eyes locked on each other's. In this moment, it feels like we're the only two people in the world, and the rain drums against us, a rhythmic beat that matches the pounding of my heart.

We stand there, catching our breath, and I brush a wet strand of hair from her face, my fingers lingering on her cheek. I reach up and remove her glasses. Her gaze is fixed on mine, her eyes soft and full of something I can't quite name.

But I bet my eyes are full of it too.

I rest my wet forehead against hers, whispering, "I could stay like this forever."

"Me, too," she replies, but her teeth chatter while she speaks.

It's actually pretty cold.

Wiping her glasses with the edge of my soaked shirt, I place them back on her nose. "Come on, let's get you out of the rain."

We run back, our hands intertwined, slipping and sliding on the wet pavement. When we finally stumble back to the car, laughing and shivering, I open the back door and help her climb in before I follow her inside, closing the door with a thud.

Inside the car, the air is warmer, but we huddle together, our bodies close, sharing warmth as we kick off our wet shoes.

Amelia pulls her glasses off, the lenses covered in raindrops and fog anew. She tries to wipe them with the hem of her soaked hoodie, but the damp fabric only smears the water around, making it worse. With a frustrated sigh, she whispers, "Fuck it," and sets the glasses down beside her on the seat before she cuddles back into me.

Her shivers slowly subside as I rub her arm, trying to chase away the chill.

"That was fun," she murmurs, her head resting on my shoulder, a tender smile playing on her lips.

"Yeah, it was," I agree, feeling a deep sense of contentment wash over me. "I'd do it all over again just to see you smile like that."

Amelia pulls the hood of her hoodie over her head, probably to hide her blush, and I reach out to tug on the strings. The hood closes over her face, leaving only her nose peeking out. She squeals and tries to push my hands away, but I hold tight, grinning.

Leaning in, my face inches from hers, I press a gentle kiss to the tip of her nose. She giggles and tries to squirm away, but I hold her in place, savoring the closeness.

Finally, I let her go, and she pushes the hood back, her face flushed, but her teeth are still chattering slightly as she grins at me.

I lean forward, reaching between the two front seats to crank up the heat. The warm air begins to circulate, and Amelia lets out a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry, that was a bad idea." I chuckle, shaking my wet curls. "We're wet, and it's cold and… oh, who am I kidding? That was amazing."

"Maybe we should get out of the soaking hoodies." Amelia laughs, pulling hers off over her head and letting it fall to the side with a wet slap. My eyes widen as I see her in a thin white T-shirt.

She's not wearing a bra, and I can see her small, beautiful breasts through the damp material .

Lord, help me.

I try to play it cool, but my eyes are drawn to the way the fabric clings to her body. I'm not supposed to be noticing this. We're friends. I'm not supposed to be thinking about how beautiful she looks right now.

But my brain seems to have other plans, and I find myself stuck in a loop of admiration, my eyes fixed on the way her hair is dripping wet, her skin is glowing, and her chest is heaving.

I start to shiver, too, although I'm not quite sure it's because of the cold.

Amelia notices and frowns. "Get rid of that wet thing," she says, nodding toward my hoodie.

I hesitate for a moment but then pull the hoodie off over my head just as I remember I'm not wearing a T-shirt underneath. I left the house in just my sweatpants, socks and shoes, and hoodie. Nothing else.

Amelia's eyes widen as she sees me, but she doesn't say anything. She just rubs her upper arms, goose bumps spreading over her skin.

"Come here."

She looks at me with wide eyes, and I can sense her hesitation. "What?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

I grab her hips and pull her into my lap so that she's straddling me and start to rub her arms myself. "It's going to get warm in here soon."

She laughs a little shakily, her cold hands now on my chest, her fingers brushing against my chest hair. "How come I'm always freezing when I'm out with you?"

"It's a scheme so I can have you close to warm you up again." I chuckle, only half-joking.

Our eyes lock, and I can see the attraction there, the spark that's been growing between us. I push her hair back, my fingers tangling in the wet strands.

"Hug me until you're warm, and I smell like you," I whisper.

She looks at me, her eyes searching, and for a moment, I think she's going to pull away. But then she leans in, her arms wrapping around my neck, and I breathe in the scent of vanilla and Amelia.

Holding her close, my chest tingles, and it hits me that… this is it .

She is it .

I'm always putting others first, making sure everyone else is happy and fine. But I never take what I want, never look for what makes me happy.

I'm so done with putting everyone else above myself, even my best friend.

It's been days, and he still hasn't made a move.

It's been days, and she still looks at me like that.

"Hey," I whisper, and she leans back only a little to look at me. I can feel her breath on my lips. "Tell me what you want from me."

There is a question in her eyes before amusement fills them as if she thinks I'm joking, then she's hiding her face in my neck again.

"Amelia." Her name leaves my lips like a sigh. Grabbing the back of her neck, I pull her away enough to look into her eyes again. I search them, and when I only see confusion, I lean in and kiss up her jawline.

"What are you…" she asks in a husky voice before her breath hitches when I kiss down her throat.

"I'm doing what I should have done four days ago," I murmur against her skin.

Now, she leans away, looking down at me in shock. "But I thought… I mean… we're friends? "

I cup her cheek, stroking her with my thumb. "Ladybug…" She squirms on my lap, and I have to groan and close my eyes, grabbing her hip with my other hand to keep her still, but it doesn't help.

I'm so fucking hard it hurts.

This woman.

"Amelia, in the manliest way ever, I need to kiss you, or I'm going to cry."

I thought this would make her smile, but the only thing it does is make her mouth open on a pant, and I let my thumb swipe over her bottom lip.

That plush fucking lip.

"Do you still want me?" I whisper, hoping we're not in the same situation from days ago with reversed roles.

"I do," she whispers, and my heart skips a beat.

" Thank fuck." The words ride on a groan, something bittersweet.

Our lips meet, and the kiss is slow at first, tender, testing but quickly turns hungry and demanding. Every breath, every sigh, is charged with the tension we've been holding back.

Amelia's fingers dig into my damp hair, pulling me closer, and I wrap my arms around her, pressing her tightly against me. The feel of her body against mine, the taste of her lips, it's intoxicating.

I can hardly think, can hardly breathe. All I know is that I want more.

I trail my fingers down her back, feeling the damp fabric clinging to her skin, and then slide my hands under her waistband, caressing the tender skin of the top of her ass cheeks. She gasps into my mouth, her hips instinctively grinding against mine, and I have to stifle another groan.

We break apart for air, our foreheads resting against each other's. Her breath is warm and ragged against my lips, her eyes dark and filled with desire.

I trail kisses down her neck, savoring the way she shivers under my touch. When my lips reach her chest, I take one of her hard nipples into my mouth through the fabric of her shirt, sucking gently.

Amelia moans softly, her hands gripping my shoulders. The sound sends a jolt through me, and I suck harder, feeling the fabric dampen even more against my tongue. Her back arches, pressing her chest closer to my mouth, and I switch to the other nipple, giving it the same attention.

Her breath comes in shallow gasps now, her fingers tangling in my hair as I continue my ministrations. Her heartbeat is fast and erratic, matching my own.

"You're so damn beautiful. I want you so much," I murmur against her chest, my breath heavy with need. Then I capture her lips again, this time more urgently. The rain outside, the cold, none of it matters anymore.

It's just us.

"Show me," she whispers against my mouth. "Show me how much."

With those words, the last of my restraint snaps. I kiss her with everything I have, my hands gripping her hips as I guide her against me. Her nails scrape against my back, and the sensation is maddening.

I pour all my feelings into the kiss while my hands roam her body and find the hem of her shirt. With a questioning look that she answers with a nod, I slide my hands up her side, lifting it over her head.

Her skin is cool to the touch, and I take a moment to admire her beauty, the way she looks at me with trust and longing. "You're perfect," I whisper, running my hand up her stomach to between her breasts, memorizing every inch of her .

My fingers trace the curves of her body, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. Lowering my head again, my mouth finds her nipples once more. I suck and tease, feeling her body respond. Her moans grow louder, more urgent, and I can feel her grinding against me, seeking relief.

" Please, " she breathes out, her voice desperate.

I pull her closer, my hand slipping down her stomach to under her waistband. "I've got you," I whisper, my lips brushing against her ear. "I'll always have you." Looking into her eyes, my fingers tease the edge of her underwear. "Is this okay?" I murmur, searching her gaze for any hesitation.

She nods, her breath coming in shallow gasps. "Yes."

I slide my hand inside her underwear, finding her already wet.

Goddamn.

She moans quietly, her head falling back as I begin to explore her, my fingers seeking out her most sensitive spots.

Pressing a finger against her clit, I circle it slowly, and she gasps, her hips bucking against the pressure of my hand. I smirk, feeling a surge of satisfaction at her response, my touch becoming more confident.

"You're a naughty girl, aren't you," I murmur against the side of her throat. Her laugh is breathy and turns into a moan when I slip a finger inside her, curling it to find that perfect spot.

"Misha…" She gasps, her hips moving in rhythm with my hand.

"For me, you are, isn't that right? Admit it," I command huskily.

"Y-yes," she whispers quickly, the word coming out broken as her eyes find mine.

"Yeah? Mmm. Now, say it slower. "

" Yeees ," she whispers slowly before I steal the breath from her lips with another kiss.

Leaning back, she bites her lip, her eyes half-closed, completely lost in the sensation. "Don't stop," she breathes out, her hands clutching at my shoulders, desperate for more.

I can give you more.

I slip another finger inside her, increasing the pressure, and she cries out, her nails digging into my skin. My cock is straining with need, and all I can think about is sinking deep into her, feeling every inch of her wet, warm, perfect little pussy.

I wanna fuck her so badly.

She tightens around my fingers, her body trembling as I push her closer to the edge. Her moans grow louder, more desperate, and I know she's close. Her body tenses, her breath catching in her throat, and then she cries out, her orgasm crashing over her. I keep moving, drawing out her pleasure until she's shuddering against me, completely spent.

I hold her close, her breath warm and ragged against my neck. Trying to steady my own breathing, I attempt to calm myself, but it's no use. This hard-on is here to stay.

"I'm on birth control," she whispers, and my mind goes blank.

"You what?" I ask, panting as I kiss her cheek.

"I'm on birth control and clear," she says again, a blush spreading across her pretty cheeks when she lets me see her face.

"Are you sure you want this?" I ask, both hope and concern clear in my words.

This is all happening so fast.

I don't want her to regret anything in the morning.

Because I won't .

She nods, her gaze unwavering. "I want you ."

Thank you, universe.

Turning her in my lap, I sit her on my knee before I push myself up from the seat to tug down my sweatpants, the cool air sharp on my already leaking cock. Then, together, we slip her sweats and underwear down, revealing the smooth skin of her hips and thighs.

With a firm but tender touch, I pull her back against my chest, feeling her soft curves against me. My lips brush against her ear as I whisper, "Then put me inside you, Amelia."

Her breath hitches before she reaches down to grab my cock. She pumps it a few times, almost making me whimper, and then she guides me to her entrance. Slowly, she lowers herself onto me, inch by agonizing inch, and we both gasp when I fill her completely. The tight, wet heat of her surrounds me, and I have to fight not to just push her down on the seat and take her from behind.

I want this slow and steady.

"You're so wet," I groan out as she begins to move, rocking her hips against me, and I grip her waist, helping her find a rhythm.

The sensation is exquisite, and I can hardly believe this is real. Our bodies move together in perfect harmony, every movement sending waves of pleasure through me.

She moans in response, her movements becoming more urgent. "Fuck," she gasps out, her head falling back against my shoulder. "Misha."

"You like this, don't you?" I murmur against her ear, my teeth grazing her earlobe before trailing hot, desperate kisses down her neck while she rides me. "You love being naughty for me."

She laughs breathlessly, her body trembling with pleasure. "Yes, God, yes," she cries out, her voice a mix of need and surrender.

"That's my girl," I whisper, though the words are rougher now, tinged with the strain of holding back. I know I'm not going to last long like this, fucking her raw for the first time, but I want to make it good for her. "Now come again for me. I want to feel you come around my cock," I grit out, the need to drive into her with abandon almost too much.

Her body tenses, responding to my words, but she doesn't come right away. The tension inside me tightens like a coil, ready to snap. I let out a low curse between clenched teeth as I increase the pace, thrusting deeper from beneath her, hitting that spot inside her with every desperate movement. Her breath quickens, her moans grow louder, and I can feel her getting closer with each passing second.

I reach around to her front, my fingers finding her clit and rubbing in time with my thrusts. "That's it," I murmur against her neck, desire roughening my words. "Just like that. Let go for me."

Her hips buck against mine, her hands clutching at my thighs for support, nails digging in, leaving marks that I'll feel for days.

Good.

The pleasure building in her radiates through my body, driving me closer to the edge. I know she's almost there. I can feel it in the way her body tightens around me, the way she trembles in my arms.

"Fuck, you feel so good," I groan out, the control I'm clinging to slipping fast. "Come for me, Amelia. I need to feel you. I'm desperate for it."

With a strangled cry, her body arches, and she comes, her muscles clenching around me with a force that rips the breath from my lungs. The sensation is overwhelming, a wave that crashes over me, dragging me under. I let myself go, surrendering to the intense pleasure of her climax as it triggers my own, my body shuddering as I buck my hips up into her while I pull her down on me, spilling into her.

We stay like that for a moment, our bodies entwined, our breaths mingling. Slowly, we come down from the high, and I hold her close, feeling the aftershocks running through her as I stroke her stomach.

"You okay?" I ask, brushing a strand of hair from her face to kiss her cheek.

She nods, a satisfied smile on her lips as she leans back against me. "More than okay," she murmurs, her eyes shining with contentment. "That was perfect."

"You're perfect," I reply, holding her close. "And I'm so lucky I've found you."

She stays wrapped in my arms as the rain continues to fall outside the fogged-up windows, and I know that no matter what happens next, no matter what happens with the guys when I tell them what I just did… what we just did… I have her.

We have each other.

And we'll figure out the rest.