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And now my cock is hard once again, my large member standing at attention as I look into the mirror. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t live without knowing whether there’s a chance for me and Amelia. Screw the marriage clause. If I can have her, it’ll be worth losing everything.

I dress in a black tailored suit for the day and prepare myself for what I’m going to do. It’s Saturday, which means it’s Amelia’s day off. I suppose my father was hoping that I’d spend this weekend wife hunting, but I have higher priorities.

My only priority is her.

I stalk through the long corridors of my home toward the wing where the staff lives. My father and I have always had more money than we needed, so we pay our staff much more than they would get anywhere else, and allow them to live on-site for free. It sets people up for life after employment here, and I’ve found that I like the system. Especially because for the last five months, I’ve been able to live under the same roof as Amelia.

I’ve thought about walking to her room late at night so many times before. I’ve fantasized about throwing open her bedroom door, growling like a hungry beast, and finding her asleep, naked beneath the sheets. In my fantasy, she wakes, tries to cover herself with innocence in those beautiful eyes of hers. But at this point, I’m insatiable. I throw the sheets away from her body, examining her perfect curves with a growl in my throat. Within moments, we’re both naked, fucking like animals. She cries out my name, gripping my shoulders as I move deep inside her tight little pussy…

I shake my head to rid myself of the fantasy. If I don’t get these ideas out of my head before I see her, then I won’t be able to control myself. I want her more than anything, but I have to make sure we’re on the same page. If we’re not, then this will all be way too much for her. I don’t want to scare her off when I’ve finally decided to make my move.

I stop just outside her door, preparing to knock. I can hear soft music playing inside the room, and smell oil paint wafting under the door. I smile. A rare gesture for me. I’ve always been accused of being a serious man, but I smile a lot more when Amelia is near me.

I hear a door open and turn to see my head cleaner, Rachel, leaving her room. She does a double-take when she sees me. I guess I don’t come to this part of the house often. I’ve never had any need before, and it makes sense to try and avoid Rachel anyway. Ever since she came into my employment, she’s been fawning after me. The annoying thing is that she’s close to Amelia’s age, but she’s not the young woman I’m trying to entice.

“Oh! Good morning, Mr. Harris,” Rachel simpers. I almost roll my eyes. She’s not unattractive by any means, with her short platinum blonde hair and big blue eyes. She’s thin as a pin but large chested, and I know that’s the dream for most guys. In fact, most men my age would jump at the chance to be with someone like Rachel, especially since she’s a younger woman. But not me. I only have eyes for Amelia. It’s as simple as that.

“Good morning, Rachel. I hope you’re enjoying your day off,” I say stiffly. She bats her eyelashes at me.

“Oh I am, especially now,” she purrs, looking me up and down. “Are you here to see me?”

“Actually, I was just about to call in on Amelia. I have a few things I need to discuss with her,” I say bluntly. I watch the smile fade from Rachel’s face.

“Amelia? You’re here for her?”

“That’s right.”

Rachel sniffs. “Right. Well, I suppose I’ll see you around, sir.”

With that, she stalks off down the corridor. Poor girl. We’re definitely not on the same page. Still, I’ve heard a whisper or two that she sometimes gives Amelia a hard time, Amelia has never mentioned anything so I don’t know if it’s true, so I don’t feel overly sorry for her. Anyone that hurts my woman is in my bad books.

I knock on Amelia’s door.

She takes a few moments to answer and when she opens the door, she looks a little frazzled but beautiful non the less. Still in her pajamas, her nipples pressing through her worn t-shirt. There’s a little paint on her pajama bottoms and she clearly hasn’t brushed her hair yet because it’s pretty disheveled but in a sexy bedhead sort of way. When she sees me standing at her door, she gasps. I guess, like Rachel, I was the last person she was expecting to see.

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