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.

nothing against his, sinking

"Mmm, let go."

the thin fabric,

cheeks flamed with

she came to her

remained impeccable, his large hand at her lower

it hard to breathe, her lips

minutes, she surrendered, the scenery blurring like a swaying landscape painting, too drained to even think about the building she had wanted to

hands becoming more brazen, she

the

embarrassment.

on his shoulder, her

mind refusing to think her head buried, ostrick-like,

SE

under her shirt, igniting sparks

weaker, a sheen of sweat on her

seemed utterly at ease, his lips causing havoc at her

trembling sharply, collapsing

she realized what had

couldn't believe

shame,

"Let go."

too skilled, she couldn't keep

didn't even know where he