Page 21 of Tycoon

“Amara, you're incredible, you know that?” His voice had been a tender caress, one I'd felt down to my very soul.

“Andrew,” I'd murmured, my reply a mere whisper, “you see too much.”

But had I let him see enough? The question gnawed at me, burrowing deep into the folds of my consciousness. In the safety of the darkness, I could no longer evade the truth that had been lingering on the periphery of my awareness.

Had I truly allowed him to see the woman behind the carefully constructed walls? The layers of self-protection that I wore like armor—had they kept him at a distance when all he'd sought was closeness?

A sigh escaped me, swirling into the silence of my room, carrying with it the weight of realizations too heavy for the night to hold. Yes, I had laughed with him, shared stories and dreams, but always with a part of me held back, an invisible boundary that I had not dared to cross.

I finally acknowledged the mistakes that had been woven through the tapestry of our relationship—each thread a missed chance to be vulnerable, to show him the raw truth of my affections. How often had I met his gaze, only to look away just as he was reaching deeper, searching for the essence of who I was?

“Stop doubting,” I whispered, the words punctuating the stillness.

With that reprimand on my lips, I turned over and fell asleep.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Amara

The months have passed. Dating and discovering Andrew has been a great experience. It's August now, on a warm evening and we are on another date. The air hummed with a mixture of eagerness and the sweet scent of my vanilla perfume as I stood before the full-length mirror. My fingers trembled slightly, not from nervousness, but from the sheer expectancy of the evening ahead. Andrew and I had traversed rivers of doubt and climbed mountains of distinction to stand where we were today, and tonight was a celebration of all the steps taken.

I let the fabric of the dress cascade between my fingers—a stunning number in a rich cobalt that made my skin glow like molten bronze. It hugged my curves in all the right places, and as I turned, the skirt flared just enough to make me feel like royalty. Slipping into it felt like slipping into a dream—one where love knew no bounds, and where a woman like me could find her heart's reflection in a man like Andrew.

“Amara, are you almost ready?” Andrew's voice, warm and steady, filtered through the door.

“Just a minute,” I called back, my voice a blend of laughter and butterflies.

I heard the soft rustle of his suit jacket and imagined him adjusting his tie, that same navy blue that matched my dress, as if our very clothes were conspiring to bring us closer together. The thought sent a wave of affection to me, and I couldn't help but observe the path that brought us to this moment, two hearts entwined in a world that had a lot of uncertainties.

“Wow,” he breathed out as I finally emerged. His eyes, a clear gray, held mine in a gaze so intense it felt like the first thread of connection we ever spun. “You look... incredible.”

“And you,” I replied, my voice soft as I straightened his tie, “are the very picture of handsome.”

We shared a smile, as we headed out to another glorious event of many to come.

We arrived twenty minutes later, and the large room of the event spread out before us like a scene from an old Hollywood film—timeless, elegant, and brimming with life. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the room, their light dancing across the walls and reflecting off the sequins and jewels adorning the other guests. Soft, romantic music played by a string quartet filled the space with a melody that seemed to wrap around each couple, each conversation, weaving everyone into the fabric of festivity.

Around us, people mingled with glasses of champagne in hand, their voices blending into a symphony of celebration. The air was infused with the aroma of gourmet hors d'oeuvres and the subtle scent of floral arrangements that adorned each table. Every element of the location, from the polished marble floors to the towering columns wrapped in ivy and fairy lights, spoke of a world created for nights like this—nights where love was not only present but exalted.

Andrew took my hand, his touch grounding me in the swirl of colors and sounds. We moved together, a single entity in a sea of faces, finding joy in the simple act of being side by side. Tonight, the rest of our story would unfold, but for now, we basked in the glow of the present, our hearts beating in time with the rhythm of the night.

“Ready to celebrate?” Andrew whispered, his words feather-light against my ear.

“Always,” I replied, my hand tightening in his, “especially with you by my side.”

And with those words, we stepped further into the embrace of the evening, our spirits soaring on the wings of newfound dreams, ready to dance the night away.

Later that night I was spread out on Andrew’s bed in nothing but a thong. My breath escaped in short, shallow gasps. Andrew gaze alone sent shivers of excitement through me. A tension grew between my thighs. I had the sudden urge to squeeze my thighs together.

“My beautiful Amara. I want you to come all over my cock.”

I was mesmerized by the sound of Andrew’s voice. I watched him ease out of his suit jacket. The slit between my thighs leaked with my desire as he unbuttoned his shirt.

He flashed that knowing grin at me. I know he knew how much I craved his hands on my body.

“Your breasts are so perfect sweetheart. The size, the shape, the nipples are perfect. I love how your tits feel in my hands. I love when you feed them to me while you ride this dick.

Andrew discarded the rest of his clothes and hovered over me to lie claim to my breasts. Andrew’s hands continued down her body, my nipples hardened I could feel the teasing warmth of his lips a hair’s breadth away, my anticipation of it in his mouth almost too much to bear.

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