Page 145 of After All This Time

"I'm gonna fuck this tight pussy until you're dripping with both of us," he promises, his cock teasing where I need him most. "But baby, you have to keep quiet."

Without warning, he rams into me, filling me in one brutal thrust, and the stretch is a delicious torture—pleasure so sharp it bleeds into pain, the kind that makes you forget everything except the feeling of being completely and utterly owned.

He's brutal and animalistic, each savage thrust threatening to split me in two. His fingers press bruises into my hips—tomorrow's reminders of tonight's sins—while I brace against the door. I'm still throbbing from when he fucked me with his fingers, and every stroke of his thick cock pushes me closer to the edge.

He wraps my hair around his fist and pulls my head back until my spine bows. His eyes burn into mine, feral and hungry, while he pounds into me.

The wet sound of skin slapping skin echoes through the room, mixing with our harsh breathing and guttural moans, but the booming music on the other side of the wall is our perfect cover.

My release crashes through me, and he clamps his hand over my mouth, muffling my desperate sounds. My eyes slam shut as pleasure rips through me like lightning, my pussy clenching around him, demanding everything he has to give.

With one brutal thrust, his whole body goes rigid. His jaw clenches, teeth bared, as his cock pulses deep inside me. He withdraws slightly before slamming back in, marking me from the inside out. When he finally slips free, he drops to his knees behind me, his tongue rough against my inner thighs, licking up our combined mess. He drags his tongue over my pussy, and my whole body trembles.

He spins me around and presses his mouth against mine, forcing his tongue past my lips. Our taste explodes between us, raw, filthy, and perfect.

This is how he claims me.

"Amelia…"Three words hidden in the sound of my name.

"I know."Three words returned.

Chapter 54

Amelia

The last few weeks have flown by faster than I ever wanted. I've barely seen Tobias, and it's eating at me. Despite my minor role, my life has become an endless cycle of rehearsals—morning to night. It's fucking relentless. When I'm not dragging myself through practice or passing out from exhaustion, I'm slinging drinks at the bar while Tobias drowns in his own work commitments.

But those moments when we do connect? They're electric. We crash together like storms meeting over open water, all lightning strikes and thunder.

We find each other everywhere—bodies tangled in sweat-dampened sheets, pressed against kitchen countersbesidecold coffee, sharing breaths under steaming water that can't compare to the fire between us. The where doesn't matter, only the how and now of us.

And maybe my mom's right. Maybe there's some truth to her accusations that we're too dependent on each other. But I can't bring myself to care.

My mom’s been different since our little brunch showdown—less helicopter parent, more distant satellite. Maybe I've finally achieved what teenage me could only dream of—disgusting her enough that she's given up on micromanaging my life.

She hasn't brought up Tobias on the rare occasions we talk, and I haven't mentioned him either. I don't want her words to poison this thing between us, especially when I'm getting ready to leave.

I want to go, knowing Tobias and I are in a good place—not one weighed down by insecurities or the suffocating pressure of everyone around us trying to convince us that what we share is wrong.

Because it doesn't feel wrong.

It's real, pure in its imperfection, and it's ours.

And if protecting it means maintaining this distance from my mother, then so be it.

I finally have a night off from the bar tonight, and Jen invited me over. Apparently, Zane's out of town visiting his family, and she and Tessa are having a sleepover. They asked me to stay the night, but the second I mentioned it to Tobias, he looked at me like I'd lost my mind. It's an unspoken rule between us—even with the crazy schedules, we don't go a night without sleeping next to each other.

I decide to show up casual and cozy, slipping into my favorite full-length pajamas—a mint-green set covered in tiny sloths that I've had forever. I shuffle into my slippers and make my way out to where Tobias is waiting. The second he sees me, his hand flies to his mouth, his eyes narrowing as if he's trying not to laugh.

"Wow," he says, his voice dripping with amusement. "Haven't seen those bad boys since high school. How the hell have they survived this long?"

I flip him off while pulling my hair into a messy ponytail. "They're my favorites, asshole. And they're still perfect," I defend, smoothing the worn fabric like it's designer silk instead of decade-old cotton.

Tobias steps closer, towering over me in the way he always does, and presses a soft kiss to the top of my head, keeping his lips there as he breathes in the scent of my hair. Then he turns around, crouching slightly with an expectant look. The muscles in his back flex beneath his thin T-shirt, and I have to resist the urge to run my hands over them.

"Come on, sloth girl," he teases, patting his back. "Hop on."

I try to look annoyed, but the grin breaks through anyway as I jump onto him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. He grabs his phone and keys, passing them to me before pulling me closer.

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