Dear Ex-wife Marry Me by Twin Bridge

Fitch's pupils contracted sharply, his breathing uneven.

Zoey, on the other hand, looked on with longing. "I really want to go in there. It feels like something is calling me."

Fitch remained silent.

Zoey reached for the car door, intent on seeing for herself.

Suddenly, her wrist was grasped firmly, and Fitch pulled her into his embrace.

The assistant in the front had wisely raised the divider, leaving them in their own private space in the back.

Held tightly in his arms, Zoey wasn't sure if it was her imagination, but she felt him trembling with fear.

But who was Fitch? The true scion of the Greenfield dynasty, sitting atop a vast fortune. How could he ever feel fear?

"Don't go," he uttered, holding her close.

Zoey didn't know what to say, forgetting even to struggle.

She couldn't understand Fitch's reaction, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder.

Fitch suddenly looked up, pressing her down.

His lips quickly found hers.

Zoey's eyes widened, pushing against him weakly.

her strength was nothing against his, sinking without

"Mmm, let go."

thin fabric, Zoey could feel

flamed with heat, forgetting

her senses, she was straddling

clothing remained impeccable, his large hand at her lower back,

it hard to breathe, her

a swaying landscape painting, too drained to even think about the building she had

his hands becoming more brazen, she wished she

into the

embarrassment.

rested on his shoulder, her

pressing heat became more mind refusing to think her head buried, ostrick-like,

SE

hand slipped under her shirt, igniting sparks

weaker, a sheen of sweat on her

ease, his lips causing havoc at

sharply, collapsing completely in

for air, when she realized what had happened, shame

couldn't believe she

by immense shame, she began

"Let go."

she

even know where