When Contracts Turn to Forbidden Kisses Chapter 122

Amelia

Inside my apartment, Ethan backed me against the wall, his body pressing against mine as his mouth claimed me again. Five years of separation dissolved in the heat between us. His hands were everywhere, in my hair, tracing my jawline, gripping my waist.

His touch grew bolder as desire took over. His palm slid up to cup my breast, thumb circling over the sensitive peak through my blouse. I gasped at the sensation, arching into his touch despite myself. His other hand moved lower, fingers teasing along the hem of my skirt before slipping underneath to caress my thigh with possessive strokes.

When I finally had to break away, gasping for air, he smiled against my lips.

"Breathe through your nose," he murmured, demonstrating.

I followed his lead, learning quickly. We stumbled toward the sofa, a tangle of limbs and desperate touches. His hands continued their exploration, one sliding beneath my blouse to feel my skin directly while the other gripped my hip with bruising intensity. When we tumbled onto the cushions, his weight pressing me down, a moment of clarity cut through the haze of desire.

"Ethan," I whispered, placing my hands against his chest. "Ethan, stop... I need a moment. After everything tonight, I'm just overwhelmed."

He immediately froze, searching my face. "Of course," he said, easing back slightly but not letting go. "We have all the time in the world now."

I traced his jawline with my fingertips, grateful for his understanding. "Thank you."

"Amelia," he said, cupping my face in his hands, "I will never cross a line without your consent. Never."

Relief washed over me, and I smiled up at him as he shifted to lie beside me, keeping me close but no longer trapping me beneath him.

"I have some work to finish," he said reluctantly. "Security details to arrange. But... may I come back later?"

I bit my lip, considering what that meant, then nodded. "Yes. Come back."

Having Ethan by my side that night gave me a sense of real security.

---

Warmth surrounded me when I woke the next morning. I found myself completely immobilized—Ethan's arm was draped heavily across my waist, his legs tangled with mine in what could only be described as a full-body lock. His other arm had somehow become my pillow during the night.

I couldn't move an inch without waking him.

Carefully, I turned my head to look at him. In sleep, the perpetual crease between his brows had vanished, making him look younger, more like the man I'd first married. His dark lashes cast shadows on his cheekbones, and his usually immaculate hair was charmingly mussed.

Damn, he was handsome. It was almost unfair how attractive he was, even unconscious and slightly drooling. I found myself reaching up, wanting to trace the line of his jaw, to feel the morning stubble I knew would be there.

My fingertips were inches from his face when his eyes snapped open, startlingly blue and suddenly alert. I froze, hand suspended awkwardly between us, completely busted.

"Good morning," I said, aiming for casual and missing by a mile.

A slow, knowing smile spread across his face. "Like what you see?"

"I was just—" I started, then stopped. What could I possibly say that wouldn't sound ridiculous?

"Just admiring the view," he finished for me, his morning voice deliciously rough. "It's okay. I do the same when you're sleeping."

My cheeks burned. "I wasn't—"

"You were," he said, still wearing that infuriating, sexy smile. "And I'm flattered."

I tried to roll away, but his arm tightened around me. "Where do you think you're going? I believe I'm owed a good morning kiss."

"Owed?" I arched an eyebrow.

Before I could retort, he leaned in and brushed his lips against mine—softly at first, then with increasing pressure as I responded. My body betrayed me, melting into him as the kiss deepened. His hand slid up my back, fingers threading through my hair as he angled my head.

Just as heat began pooling low in my belly, he abruptly pulled away. His breathing was ragged, and his eyes had darkened to a stormy blue. Without warning, he rolled off the bed and stood up.

"I need a shower," he said tightly. "A cold one."

The bathroom door closed behind him with a decisive click, leaving me flushed and flustered in the tangled sheets. I touched my lips, still feeling the pressure of his kiss, and tried to regain my composure.

---

I took my time selecting clothes for the day—black slim-fit trousers and a crisp white button-down. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail and was about to head to the bathroom when I heard it.

A low groan from behind the door.

I froze, my hand halfway to the doorknob. The sound came again, unmistakable this time—Ethan was pleasuring himself in my shower. My first instinct was embarrassment, but it quickly gave way to a strange sense of power. He wanted me so badly that he needed this release, yet he'd respected my wish to take things slowly enough to handle it himself rather than pressure me.

A smile tugged at my lips as I backed away from the door, giving him privacy. When he emerged ten minutes later, hair damp and a towel wrapped around his waist, I couldn't help the knowing look that crossed my face.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What's with that smile?"

"Nothing," I said innocently. "Just glad you enjoyed your shower."

Realization dawned on his face, followed by a flash of mortification that he quickly masked. "You heard."

"The walls are thin," I confirmed, enjoying his discomfort perhaps a little too much.

Instead of being embarrassed, he stepped closer, his expression shifting to something predatory. "This is what you do to me, Amelia. This is what happens when I respect your boundaries and don't touch you the way I desperately want to."

He was so close now that I could feel the heat radiating from his skin, smell the clean scent of my own soap on him. He leaned in, his lips nearly touching my ear.

"And I’ll keep respecting those boundaries," he murmured softly in my ear, "no matter how much it kills me."

My cheeks flushed, I hurried into the bathroom for my shower, his low chuckle lingering behind me, teasing the air between us.

---

When I emerged, Ethan was dressed in fresh clothes that Michael must have brought over. He was making coffee in the kitchen, moving with the easy familiarity of someone who belonged there.

"I want to bring Lucas home," I said without preamble as I accepted the mug he offered me.

He nodded, unsurprised. "I thought you might. But can we wait a few days? I'd like us to visit my grandfather together."

I sipped my coffee, considering. "To thank him for taking care of Lucas?"

"Yes," Ethan said. "He's grown attached to the boy. It would mean a lot to him if we came together, as a..." He hesitated, clearly uncertain what term to use.

"Family?" I supplied, testing how the word felt.

His eyes softened. "Yes. As a family."

The idea was simultaneously terrifying and appealing. "Alright. We'll go together in a few days."

"I need to meet the men from last night," he added, checking his watch.

A chill ran down my spine as I recalled the attack, the hatred in those men's eyes. "Be careful."

He smiled, a dangerous edge to it that reminded me of the ruthless businessman everyone else saw. "Always."

As he prepared to leave, coffee mug empty on the counter, I realized I didn't want him to go. Not yet. It was a startling admission, even to myself.

"Ethan," I called as he reached the door.

He turned, eyebrow raised in question.

"Thank you," I said softly. "For respecting my boundaries. For being patient."

His expression softened. "Always, Amelia. For as long as it takes."

With that, he was gone, leaving me alone with my coffee and the lingering scent of his cologne—and the unsettling realization that I was falling for him all over again.