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

"Mmm, let go."

thin fabric, Zoey could feel his warmth

cheeks flamed with heat, forgetting

came to her senses, she was straddling his

remained impeccable, his large hand at her

found it hard to breathe, her lips

swaying landscape painting, too

his hands becoming more brazen,

into the ground

embarrassment.

on his

more mind refusing to think her head

SE

under her shirt, igniting sparks

sheen of sweat

utterly at ease, his lips

trembling sharply, collapsing completely

air, when she realized what had happened, shame overwhelmed

couldn't believe

shame, she

"Let go."

she couldn't keep up with

even know where

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