Chapter 23
Amelia’s POV
I was upstairs in my bedroom, curled up against the headboard of my bed, a book resting loosely in my hands. The house was unusually quiet, the kind of quiet that makes your thoughts louder than they should be. My bedside lamp cast a soft golden glow over the pages, but the words were starting to blur. My mind kept drifting, circling back to Edmund in ways I refused to admit aloud.
I sighed, setting the book on my lap. “Get out of my head, Edmund,” I muttered to myself.
It didn’t work.
I tried again, flipping a page I hadn’t even read. For a moment I considered turning off the lamp and forcing myself to fall asleep, but then a knock at the door startled me.
My brows pulled together. Who could be knocking at this hour?
Slowly, I slipped the book aside and stood. I slid off the bed, my bare feet brushing against the cool floor as I headed downstairs. When I opened the door, my breath caught.
“Edmund?” I whispered, disbelief coating my voice.
He stood there drenched as though he had walked through a storm. Yet I hadn’t heard any rain.
“You’re soaked,” I whispered, more to myself than to him.
His hair clung to his forehead, his shirt plastered to his chest, and his eyes burned into me with a hunger I couldn’t place.
Before I could ask another question, he stepped inside, shutting the door with a firm hand. His other hand caught the back of my neck, pulling me close until my back pressed against the wooden door. The shock of his touch sent a shiver racing through me.
“What are you doing?” I breathed, my voice trembling between fear and something far more dangerous.
His lips hovered near mine, the warmth of his breath ghosting across my skin. “Whatever you want me to,” he said in that deep, steady tone of his.
My heart pounded. His lips descended slowly, giving me just enough time to back away, if I wanted to. But I didn’t move. I couldn’t.
At first, the kiss was slow. Searching. Like we were both daring each other to admit what we’d been hiding. His lips brushed mine, soft, deliberate, as though he was savoring every second. My body melted against him despite the sharp alarm going off in my head. I should stop this. I should push him away. But my hands betrayed me, curling into the damp fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.
The kiss deepened.
Gentle turned hungry.
Hungry turned desperate.
I clutched at his wet shirt, feeling the strong lines of his chest beneath, and gasped when he deepened the kiss even more, as if he wanted to swallow every ounce of me whole.
He groaned against my mouth, and the sound sent shivers racing down my spine. My lips parted for him instinctively, and
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Chapter 23
his tongue slipped past, tangling with mine in a battle that neither of us wanted to win. Every second, the world outside the door dissolved, leaving only the heat between us.
In one swift movement, he lifted me, pressing me harder against the door before carrying me up the stairs.
He stumbled into my room, carrying me across the room. My gasp was swallowed by his lips as my back met the mattress. He hovered above me, drops of water falling from his hair to my check, his weight caging me in.
“Edmund…” I breathed, unsure if it was a plea for him to stop or to keep going.
His answer was wordless. His mouth trailed down, hot and demanding, over my jaw, my neck, the hollow of my throat. My pulse raced beneath his lips. His hands moved with a confidence that made my body arch into his touch without thought.
His lips moved lower, to the curve of my breasts, tugging at the thin strap of my nightdress until it slipped down my shoulder. His mouth closed over me, hot and demanding, and I nearly cried out.
“Edmund…” I breathed, unsure if I was pleading for him to stop or to keep going.
It was a dream.
I didn’t know it yet, but it had to be. Because no moment in reality could ever feel this intoxicating.
By the time his mouth closed over my breast, I was trembling. The soft scrape of his teeth, the wet warmth of his tongue, the low groan in his throat as if he couldn’t get enough. It all blended into a blur of pleasure that stole every coherent thought from my mind. My fingers tangled in his hair, tugging, urging him on. My hips lifted instinctively against his thigh pressing between mine, friction building where I ached the most.
The sound that escaped my lips was desperate. “Please…”
He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, his gaze dark, burning. “Please what?”
“Edmund please,” I moaned out.
When he finally moved back up, his eyes met mine, dark and hungry. My body trembled beneath him.
“Tell me what you want, Amelia,” he murmured against my lips.
Heat surged through me. “I need you.” I gasped. “Inside me. Now.”
His smirk was devastating. He kissed me again, harder, before sliding lower, his mouth tracing a path down my body. Every kiss, every graze of his lips set fire to my skin. When he reached the curve of my thigh and pushed them apart, I thought I might lose my mind.
The first stroke of his tongue against me made me cry out, my hand flying to my mouth to stifle the sound. He caught my wrist, pinning it down beside me. “Don’t hide from me,” he growled softly, and then his mouth was on me again.
Pleasure crashed over me in waves, and I writhed helplessly beneath him, my moans filling the room. He devoured me like a man starved, each flick and swirl of his tongue pushing me closer to the edge. My legs shook, my back arched, my heart pounded wildly against my ribs.
“Edmund…” I gasped, voice breaking. “I can’t. I need-”
He lifted his head, his mouth glistening, his eyes locked on mine. Slowly, deliberately, he crawled back up my body, pressing the length of himself against me. I felt him, hard, ready, and I whimpered at the thought of him finally filling me completely after so long.
“Beg for it,” he murmured against my ear.
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Chapter 23
And I did.
God help me, I begged.
“Please… Edmund… I need you inside me. I can’t take it anymore.”
His mouth curved into a half–smile as he positioned himself, the blunt head of his cock nudging at my entrance. I braced myself, every nerve alive with anticipation, my lips parting slightly. His mouth opened too, as if he wanted to say something. He stilled, his eyes wide,mouth opening again but this time, instead of words, a long, piercing sound tore through the room.
I stared at him in confusion. “Edmund? Are you okay?”
I heard the sound again. Louder this time.
I jerked awake, gasping, my chest heaving as the walls of my familiar bedroom came into focus.
My alarm clock screamed beside me. I slammed my palm against it, silencing the sharp noise. My hand trembled as I dragged it over my face.
“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath, as frustration curled in my stomach.
It had been a dream. Just a dream. My cheeks still burned, my lips still tingled as though he had really kissed me, as though I had really begged for him. My body ached for something that hadn’t even happened.
I lay back against the pillow, glaring up at the ceiling as my heart tried to steady itself. The anger came next, not just at myself for dreaming about Edmund, but at him, the infuriating man who had somehow carved a place into my subconscious without permission.
I turned on my side and buried my face into the pillow, groaning. “Why him?”
The answer didn’t come. Only the memory of the dream lingered in my mind, taunting me with what I wanted but couldn’t have.
I dragged a hand down my face and let out a long sigh. “Great. Just great.”
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
