Chapter 42.
Amelia stirred against the bed, her pulse aching from the memories of yesterday. The way his hands had moved over her skin. The way he had taken her like he was trying to own every inch of her. Her body still felt the phantom of his touch, lingering in places he had ruined with pleasure.
The soft aroma of food gripped her nostrils, pulling her slowly to consciousness. It was warm and inviting, and for a moment she let herself sink into it — let it guide her gently out of the mess of thoughts and sensations tangled deep within her.
Her eyes parted slowly, lids heavy, lashes fluttering as she looked around. She dragged herself to sit on the bed, her bones aching with the weight of memory, muscles sore from everything he had done to her.
“Wakey wakey.”
Maximo smiled, walking
