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,

cheeks flamed with heat, forgetting to

she came to her

hand at her lower back, drawing

hard to breathe, her

less than ten minutes, she surrendered, the scenery blurring like a swaying landscape painting, too

more brazen, she wished

into the ground

embarrassment.

on his

mind refusing to

SE

under her shirt, igniting

weaker, a sheen of

utterly at ease, his lips causing havoc

trembling sharply, collapsing completely in

when she realized what had happened,

believe

by immense shame, she began to

"Let go."

skilled, she couldn't

even know where he learned