When her lips hit mine in the hallway, every ounce of restraint I had built up over the years shattered.
I had spent months watching Amelia from the shadows, tracking her every move, waiting for the right opening to get close to her. Now she was right here in my arms, her hands clinging to my neck, her warm breath mixing with mine.
I knew she wasn't in her right mind. I knew that scum at the bar had put something in her glass. I should have picked her up, carried her to her bed, and locked the door from the outside. But when she pulled me deeper against her, whimpered my name, and slammed her mouth against mine a second time, my control snapped in two.
I wrapped my arm around her waist, lifting her off her feet, and kissed her back with a hunger I couldn't hide anymore.
A soft gasp escaped her lips into my mouth. I broke the kiss for half a second, my lungs burning.
"Amelia, we shouldn't—"
She didn't let me finish. She hooked her legs around my waist and pulled my face back to hers. The thin red dress she was wearing was in the way. I reached for the zipper at the side, but the cheap fabric tore under my grip, exposing her smooth skin to the cool air of the foyer.
She didn't care. She didn't even notice. She just kept kissing me like her life depended on it.
I carried her up the stairs, taking them two at a time, kicking her bedroom door open with my boot. The room was dark, lit only by the faint glow of the streetlights outside her window. I laid her down on the center of the mattress, stepping back just long enough to pull my shirt over my head and kick off my boots.
Amelia lay on the bed, her cheeks flushed, her eyes heavy and glassy from the drug in her system. Her chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths.
"Rey..." she whispered, her voice barely a breath.
I got onto the bed, hovering over her, my hands framing her face. I lowered myself, aligning my hips with hers, and pushed inside.
A sharp, painful cry tore from her throat.
I froze instantly.
I looked down between us, my breath catching in my throat. On the white sheet beneath her hips, faint spots of red were blooming.
My heart slammed against my ribs. She was a virgin.
"Fuck," I swore under my breath, my mind racing. I immediately started to back out, trying to disengage. "Amelia, wait—"
"No," she gasped, her hands shooting up to grip my shoulders. Her fingernails dug into my skin. She arched her back, pressing her hips firmly back up against mine, refusing to let me pull away. "Don't stop... please."
Her body was tight, wrapping around me like a vise. Whatever morals I had left completely dissolved. I stayed inside her, keeping my upper body propped on my elbows so I wouldn't crush her with my weight. I moved slowly, shallow thrusts, letting her body adjust to the feel of me.
She let out a low moan, her head falling back into the pillow.
I reached down between our bodies, my fingers finding her clit, caressing her gently in rhythm with my movements. Her breath hitched, her legs tightening like steel bands around my waist.
"Rey... oh God," she sobbed into the dark room.
I buried my face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent. I kept the pace steady, driving into her again and again until her body began to tremble under mine.
Her inner muscles clamped down hard around my dick, pulsing in tight, violent waves. She cried out my name as her climax ripped through her, her body shivering violently against the mattress.
Hearing her scream my name broke the last string of sanity I possessed. I drove deep inside her one last time, let out a gut-wrenching groan, and spilled myself inside her.
I didn't leave her room.
I pulled her naked body against my chest, wrapping the heavy duvet over us both. She was completely exhausted, her breathing evening out into a deep sleep within minutes. I stayed awake for hours, resting my chin on top of her head, running my fingers through her soft hair while the drug ran its course through her system.
When the morning sun finally broke through the window blinds, I was still holding her.
Amelia stirred in my arms. Her eyelids fluttered open, squinting against the bright light. She shifted, trying to sit up, but a sharp wince crossed her face as the soreness in her body hit her.
"What the..." she muttered, her voice raspy.
She looked down at herself, realizing she was completely unclothed under the sheets. A second later, her eyes darted to me, lying right beside her.
A high-pitched scream tore out of her throat.
She scrambled backward off the bed, clutching a corner of the sheet to her chest. She stumbled into her walk-in closet, her eyes wild with panic. A second later, she marched back out, holding a heavy gold high heel in her hand like a weapon.
"Amelia, calm down," I said, sitting up slowly.
She didn't listen. She lunged at the bed and started bringing the metal-tipped heel down onto my arms and shoulders with all the force she had.
"Why the fuck are you in my bed?!" she screamed, her eyes wide and furious. "Get out! Get the fuck out!"
I raised my forearms, blocking the sharp heel before it could hit my face. The metal dug into my skin, but I barely felt it.
"Stop swinging!" I barked.
She stopped, breathing heavily, her eyes darting down to the bed. Right beneath where she had been lying, the dried red stain was clearly visible on the white sheet.
She went completely frozen. Her face drained of all color.
"Why am I naked?" she whispered, her voice cracking. "Did we... did you..."
I didn't answer. I just sat there, watching her face as the realization hit her.
Another scream escaped her throat. She dropped the shoe, balled her hands into fists, and threw herself at me, beating her small fists against my chest over and over.
I let her hit me for a few seconds before I reached out, grabbed both of her wrists in one hand, and pinned them together.
"Calm the fuck down, Amelia!" I thundered, my voice echoing in the room.
"Let go of me!" she sobbed, struggling against my grip. "You took advantage of me, you bastard!"
"I took advantage of you?" I growled, my jaw tightening as my patience wore thin. "If you hadn't taken that spiked drink from your shithole boyfriend at the bar, we wouldn't be in this mess! I brought you home drunk. I was trying to carry you to your room when you dragged me back by my collar and kissed me!"
She went dead quiet. Her fists stopped moving in my grip.
"I... what?" she stammered, her brow pulling together.
Fragments of the night before started floating back into her head. I could see it in her eyes—the realization of how she had acted, how she had touched me, how she had practically begged me not to stop.
Her strength completely left her. She dropped her gaze, sinking back onto the edge of the mattress, looking small and defeated.
"Why did you let me?" she whispered, her voice shaking as she covered her face with her hands. "You're my bodyguard. You should have stopped me!"
I looked down at her, my throat tight. "I couldn't, Princess. I just couldn't."
She sat there for a long moment, hiding her face, her shoulders trembling. But then her hands dropped, and the embarrassment in her eyes turned back into white-hot anger.
"This is your fault!" she yelled, pointing a trembling finger at my chest. "You caused this! If you hadn't beaten up Max, I wouldn't have been upset, and none of this would have happened!"
I let out a harsh laugh, leaning toward her. "If I had the chance to beat his ass again right now, I'd do it twice as hard. He drugged you."
"He's my boyfriend!" she thundered, her face turning red. "You had no right to get involved! Whatever happens between us is none of your damn business!"
I grabbed her chin firmly between my thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look straight into my eyes.
"I don't care who he is," I said, my voice dropping into a low, deadly tone. "I'm not a nice man, Amelia. Anyone who puts hands on you or drugs your drink gets broken. I would gladly chop off his balls for your sake."