Chapter 312

Chapter 312

Amelia couldn't really remember the drive home. It was all a blur.

All she knew was that once they got inside, Henry practically carried her to the bedroom and tossed her onto the bed.

A whirlwind of kisses followed.

With the last bit of rationality, Amelia tried to reason with him.

"Wait, it's not even dark outside yet. What if someone sees us..."

Henry abruptly got up and pulled the curtains shut, plunging the room into darkness.

He then looked at the enticing Amelia on the bed as if nothing had happened.

"Amelia, isn't it dark now?"

How could there be someone like this!

Amelia had no time to resist; Henry had deftly stripped her as soon as they crossed the threshold.

Men seemed to have a natural talent for this. Henry's hands expertly found her sensitive spots.

"No." Amelia murmured.

Henry feigned innocence and kissed her. "No what? Should I stop, Amelia?"

He even started to move his hand away.

Amelia, blushing furiously, glared at him. "Don't stop."

Henry leaned in close, his voice low in her ear.

"Don't what? I didn't quite hear you."

That Henry! He was clearly teasing her.

By now, Amelia had lost all rational thought, her body limp in his arms, gasping for breath. "Condom! We can't have a baby right now."

Henry kissed the corner of her mouth.

"I know."

He pulled her up from the bed and brought her to the mirror, forcing her to confront her own reflection.

A scene of utter humiliation, both in sight and stance.

Amelia couldn't take it and tried to escape.

But Henry wasn't about to let her go.

He seized her waist, pressing her against the cold glass.

His movements grew bolder, as if he sought to meld their beings into one.

From behind, he kissed her neck, his other hand exploring her front.

Amelia didn't want to see the debauchery in the mirror, but Henry insisted she watch.

Even though they'd done this many times, this position was still challenging.

No matter how flexible Amelia was, she couldn't hold out for long and soon collapsed on the bed, exhausted.

Yet Henry's desire was insatiable. He had her find a comfortable position while he continued from behind.

Amelia couldn't take it anymore. "Henry, how much longer? I'm so tired."

From head to toe, Amelia was completely worn out.

Henry didn't answer, his actions relentless.

The waves of Henry's weight overwhelmed Amelia; she cried out in surrender.

This only fueled Henry's fervor, almost breaking her apart before he finally stopped.

He carried her to the bathroom and washed away all the marks on her body.

Amelia now grasped the true meaning of exhaustion.

She lay motionless on the bed, only her open eyes assured Henry she hadn't fainted.

Was it really that intense?

He hadn't even unleashed his full passion, fearing it might be too much for her.

He'd have to be more careful next time.

After a nearly sleepless night, Amelia finally got some rest, comfortably nestled in the soft, fragrant sheets.

She ignored Henry's plea for a cuddle.

Henry chuckled, knowing she was mad at him for being too rough.

But who could resist such an adorable Amelia?

He pulled her into his arms and ruffled her hair. After a token struggle, she settled into a comfortable position.

In the dim bedroom, the light from her phone screen was glaring.

Henry glanced over.

"Chatting with Lily?" he asked.

He couldn't understand what they had to talk about, chatting from day to night without getting bored.

If he did that with Mark or Finley, tongues would surely wag, branding them a couple.

"It's work stuff. She's been under a lot of pressure, so we're sharing experiences and encouraging each other," Amelia explained.

Amelia's eyes sparkled with sudden recollection. She tapped her teeth thoughtfully. "By the way, I heard from Lily that Finley and Bronte have a secret past. Do you know anything about it? Tell me! Otherwise, I won't be able to sleep tonight!"

She'd been curious for a while but had been too busy to ask.

And she wasn't sure how to bring it up with Henry. The topic had surfaced naturally in their conversation today.

Henry raised an eyebrow, a hint of jealousy in his voice. "Why are you so curious about Finley? You don't seem to care about me."

Amelia sighed and nudged him playfully. "What don't I know about you? Besides, don't you think their story is interesting? Finley, who always smiles but hides his true feelings, changes his expression whenever Bronte is mentioned. They must have been deeply in love!"

She paused, choosing her words deliberately. "And I heard Bronte was his kept woman. Is that true?"

Henry admitted it openly. "It's true."

Amelia's eyes widened in astonishment. "I can't believe it! Bronte is so gentle. I can't imagine her doing something like that! And she's so beautiful, she has plenty of suitors. Why would she settle for that?"

Though Finley was attractive, it was hard to believe Bronte would willingly be his kept woman.

Unless...

Her expression grew pensive. "Did Finley coerce her?"

Henry admired her vivid imagination but corrected her gently. "No, Bronte climbed into his bed willingly."

What!

The revelation was even more shocking. How could Bronte do such a thing?

"Finley rarely comes back to the country. We were drinking at a bar, and he had a bit too much. On his way back to his room, he encountered Bronte. She'd been eyeing him for a while, just waiting for the right moment. After spending the night together, she became his lover," Henry narrated calmly.

Henry's matter-of-fact recounting left Amelia wide-eyed and restless.

Amelia was still in disbelief.

"No wonder they said Bronte was struggling financially when she first started school, then suddenly started spending lavishly. So that's why. But their relationship ended. Wasn't it because Finley got bored? Why does he hate Bronte so much?"