Chapter 93

He didn’t tell me where we were going. Not until the car turned onto the long, familiar stretch of brick-paved road and the glowing white sign came into view. My stomach twisted. I recognized the place instantly. It was the upscale restaurant where I had once seen Richard with Elsa, seated in the corner booth under that ridiculous glass chandelier. The same booth where I had stood outside the frosted windows, watching her hand trace circles along her glass as she made eyes at him.

Tonight, it was me walking through the tall double doors, not a shadow outside.

The hostess knew his name before he said it. She smiled politely but not warmly, eyes flicking to our clasped hands as she led us to the table in the center of the main dining room. Not a hidden corner. Not a back wall. The center. We were surrounded.

He pulled out my chair, casual like it was second nature. As soon as I sat down, I heard the first whisper from a table nearby. Two women in black cocktail dresses leaned toward each other, one glancing at me over her wine glass. Across the room, a man lowered his phone but kept his eyes locked on us. The flash of a camera came from outside the restaurant’s front window.

I focused on the table. On the way the linen felt against my fingertips. On the weight of the silverware. I tried not to think about how many people were watching.

“Thank you for coming,” Richard said, his voice quiet but confident.

“I didn’t realize you were planning a press event,” I replied. I was trying to keep it light, but my voice came out tight.

“This isn’t for the press. This is for us. And for everyone else to get used to the idea of us.”

I looked up at him. He wasn’t looking at the room. He was looking at me. Like none of the whispers mattered.

His hand came to rest on the table, palm up. I hesitated, then placed mine in his. He didn’t let go. And he didn’t care who saw.

We ordered food that I barely tasted. The server’s voice shook as he listed the specials. I wondered if he was nervous because of Richard’s title, or because he, too, was paying attention to the way Richard’s thumb stroked my knuckles between courses.

Halfway through the meal, Jason appeared like a stain bleeding through expensive wallpaper. You could tell it wasn’t a coincidence. He had been waiting at his own table, watching for the perfect moment. He stood and walked straight over, his smile too wide to be genuine.

“Alpha,” he said with a respectful nod, then turned to me. “Amelia. You look radiant tonight. The media will have a field day.”

“Jason,” Richard said without looking up. “Stop bothering us and go back to your table.”

Jason chuckled. “Of course. Just thought I’d say hello. It’s such a momentous occasion. First public appearance. And here, of all places.” He looked around. “Bold choice. I’m sure it’ll make a statement.”

His smile lingered on me a moment too long. “Some people climb fast, don’t they? Makes you wonder what they’re reaching for.”

I smiled back. “Some people forget how steep the fall is when they’re standing too close to the edge.”

Jason’s expression flickered. “Enjoy your evening,” he said, and walked away.

Richard didn’t look at him. He kept his gaze on me. “You didn’t flinch.”

“I’ve had practice.”

“You didn’t used to have that kind of steel.”

I looked down at our hands. “You didn’t used to show me off like this.”

He leaned closer. “I’m not showing you off. I’m showing you what you deserve.”

By the time dessert came, I felt lighter. Still tight with nerves, but steadier. Stronger.

We walked out of the restaurant just after dusk. The sky was a bruised violet, and the street outside was lined with flashing lights. Cameras. Journalists. Onlookers with their phones raised.

Someone shouted my name.

Then, without hesitation, Richard turned to me and kissed me. Not a polite kiss. Not one done for show. His hands were firm on my waist and his mouth was warm and sure against mine. The flashes surged. I could hear gasps, the click of shutters, the murmurs rising. But I didn’t care. I leaned into him. The kiss tasted like fire and silk and something we didn’t have to hide anymore.

The car door opened. We climbed in, breathless.

I exhaled hard, heart racing. He looked at me like he wanted to say something, but I spoke first.

“You really brought me there on purpose.”

“Yes.”

“And you really kissed me in front of the entire city.”

“Also yes.”

The partition clicked as it rose.

He leaned in, brushing a hand over my thigh. “Do you remember what happened the night of the Mate Ball?”

I tilted my head, thinking. “Not really. I remember getting dizzy. I remember your arms. The way everything smelled like heat and pine and leather. After that it gets patchy.”

He didn’t laugh. His eyes darkened. “You were high. Not your fault. That asshole slipped something into your drink. You were swaying on your heels and wouldn’t let go of my arm.”

“Then what happened?”

“You told me I smelled too good. You climbed into my lap. In the car. You kissed my neck. You told me you were wet. And you started grinding like you meant it.”

My cheeks flamed, but my thighs clenched.

“I did that?”

“You did. And then you passed out mid-movement. Fell asleep in my arms.”

I stared at him. “And you didn’t touch me?”

He raised a brow. “Of course not. I wanted to. I almost did. But I couldn’t. You weren’t really there.”

I leaned in, letting my breath tickle the shell of his ear. “I’m here now.”

He groaned softly, already undoing the zipper at the back of my dress. I crawled into his lap, my knees spreading across the seat, dress bunched up around my hips. His mouth met mine and I kissed him like I wanted to erase the time we had lost. Our mouths moved together, slow and urgent. My fingers tugged at his belt, impatient. When I finally freed him, he was hot and heavy in my palm, and the look on his face as I stroked him made my pulse stutter.

“I need you inside me,” I whispered.

He didn’t hesitate. He slid his hands under my thighs, gripping tightly as I guided him to where I ached. I was already soaked. He slid in deep, thick and perfect, and I cried out into his mouth as my hips adjusted around him.

“This time I'll remember,” I whispered, voice trembling.

“Then remember this,” he growled.

His hands dug into my waist, holding me there as I began to move, rolling my hips slow at first, dragging him through me until the friction became unbearable. I braced my knees against the leather seats for leverage, arching my back to feel every inch of him. His mouth was everywhere, my throat, my collarbone, the curve of my breast where he pushed the fabric aside and sucked until I whimpered.

“You’re driving me insane,” he muttered, his voice raw. “You feel like heaven.”

I grinned, breathless. “So do you.”

I bounced harder, faster, the slap of skin against skin growing louder, more frantic. The car rocked with each thrust, the partition rattling faintly behind us. My nails dragged down his chest through his shirt. He was so deep, so thick, I could barely breathe.

“Look at me,” he said, and I did.

His eyes locked with mine as he reached between us, finding my clit and rubbing tight circles that made my vision blur. My moans turned to cries, my whole body tightening.

“I’m going to—”

“Come for me,” he ordered, fingers relentless.

I shattered, body shaking, walls clenching hard around him. My cry echoed off the windows, and I barely registered the deep, guttural sound he made before he followed, hips jerking as he spilled inside me, arms wrapped around my back so tightly I could barely move.

I collapsed against him, skin damp, heart hammering, completely undone.

He kissed the top of my head and held me there as we came down together. His hand stroked lazy circles across my spine.

And I thought, this time I wasn’t dizzy. This time, I knew exactly what I wanted. And I had it.