Too Much To Bear My Love

Oscar’s knocks gradually became heavier and furious. “Amelia Winters, open the door!” he commanded.

It wasn’t until he knocked ten consecutive times that the door finally clicked open from the inside.

Amelia, dressed only in a bathrobe, was standing behind the door, her hair wet and her cheeks slightly flushed. She was, needless to say, a picture-perfect example of temptation.

Oscar’s eyes darkened with desire in a blink of an eye. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and scrutinized her from head to toe.

Amelia noticed the difference in his behavior, yet she remained distant when she spoke. “Mr. Clinton, I’m tired.”

her, picked her up, and kicked the door shut with the back of his foot. He lowered her onto the couch in the room, his large,

her hands on his broad chest and replied, “Nothing. I’m just tired, that’s

first place because I liked that you weren’t one who enjoyed meaningless quarrels. If you’re now learning to put up airs with me, let me make it clear—you won’t end up with a thing

in her stomach. But she still wore a smile on her face to conceal it. “Mr. Clinton, you don’t have to keep reminding me. I know it better than

as if trying to pick up any trace of unwillingness

thought of dealing with Oscar Clinton was completely overtaken by

her on the bed before climbing up above

an hour later when the bed stopped creaking and their heavy panting gradually slowed down in

chest, inhaling his distinct masculine scent. She failed to conceal the weariness in