Page 94 of Wicked Prince

Meaningful.

Intimate.

Beautiful, even.

It's a dangerous thought, one I'll probably regret letting myself indulge sooner or later, but right now…

Amelia's hands clench around mine as her writhing slows down, and I spend the last of my seed inside her.

Like the first time, it dawns on me that it was probably a really fucking stupid idea to do this without protection, but I never thought she would actually go for it, and it wasn't like that was the first thing on my mind. When it comes to Amelia, logic is not the prevailing sentiment in my mind, ever. And like every woman at Bainbridge, I’m sure she’s on birth control, anyway.

I gaze down at her, finally breaking the kiss as I savor the look of blissful exhaustion on her face.

"You're perfect," I murmur. "You know that, right?"

The lust in her eyes fades, becoming something between anger and sadness.

Anger, I can handle. I expect that. But sadness?

"This was a mistake," she mutters.

I frown, pulling out to lie next to her. Not exactly the words I had hoped to hear. Guess I can't really blame her, though.

"How many times can you make a mistake before it becomes a habit?"

She rolls her eyes, rolling onto her side to face me. "This doesn't change anything, Lorenzo. I need you to know that."

"Sure," I say with a shrug.

"I'm serious," she says, clutching the sheet to her chest. "And you need to get back to your room before someone finds you here. The last thing I need is this igniting World War III."

I can't help but smirk a little. "It wouldn't be a bad reason."

Amelia just sighs and starts to sit up, so I reach for her, pulling her back into my arms. She squirms until I pin her against my chest, burying my face in her hair. It smells clean and floral, but it's not her usual strawberry scented shampoo.

"Just stay with me like this for a little while," I murmur.

I expect her to argue, or tell me to fuck off, but she doesn't. She just sighs again and relaxes in my embrace. I'm surprised, and I’m not about to take a second for granted.

I find myself stroking her hair as I keep her wrapped in my arms. Cuddling after sex really isn't my thing, either, but it's far from the first exception that's come about because of her.

God, I wish this was just the way things were. Always. I wish I could hold her like this every night, and make it known to the world—Stefan included—that she's fuckingmine.

I'm starting to think maybe Anthony is right. Maybe I can, and I'm just a coward.

That's not a realization that's easy to swallow, but it's the first time my head and the heart I didn't even think I had until recently are pulling me in opposite directions.

ChapterThirty-Seven

AMELIA

I... am such an idiot.

As I wake up to an empty bed in my father's mansion with the memories of last night still whispering across my skin like silk sheets and fingertips, that's all I can think.

As much as I want to believe last night was just one lengthy, salacious dream, I know it wasn't. It was all too real, and now, the morning after, I have to deal with the aftermath of that choice.

And I also have to wonder if I've completely lost my mind.

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