Glass: Chapter 45

We stagger into Oakbourne Manor, full of champagne and food and giddiness.

I take a breath as Silas slides his tuxedo jacket from my shoulders. “Home.”

It’s good to be home. Carefully, I reach down and slip the glass shoes from my feet, placing them on the table.

“Why on the table?” Kit enquires, and I shrug.

“They’re far too pretty to be on the floor. They deserve to be seen.”

“Well,” Rafe teases. “Everyone in Sorelle society saw them this evening.”

“And everyone else will see them tomorrow,” Silas says softly. “There was a lot of press at that party.”

“Vindication.” I take a deep breath. “It feels good. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank us,” Silas says softly. “We should have done it the first day we saw you again.”

There’s guilt in his tone, and I reach up, pressing my lips to his.

“We move forward,” I breathe. “Together.”

“Which reminds me.” Silas draws something from his pocket and hands it to me. I turn it over. “What is it?”

They’re all watching me as I slide it open. And my eyes widen at the number on the cheque. “What is this?”

“Back pay,” Silas says quietly. “You worked for Ella for years, Stasi. And then for us. You deserve to be compensated for it.”

“We billed Ella’s part to Crispin,” Rafe says with a small smile. “Seemed only fair.”

I turn the cheque over and over in my fingers. “I could… go to college?”

“You can do whatever you want,” Kit says softly. “As long as we’re there with you.”

Rafe slides his hand into mine. “Shall we go and watch it again? With popcorn?”

I laugh. “No. But… I think I’m ready for bed.”

Silas leans in, kissing my forehead. Kit follows his lead. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Late,” Rafe says firmly. “Very late.”

And he lifts me as I laugh, running up the stairs and pushing open his bedroom door. He tosses me onto his bed, and I bounce in a pile of tulle. “I need to take this dress off.”

But he shakes his head, a gleam in his eye. “Later. Leave it on for now.”

My mouth opens, but he’s already there, pressing his lips into mine. “I feel like I waited forever for you, Anastasia Tate. And it was worth it.”

I smile against him. “I’m not Anastasia Tate yet, you know.”

He presses a kiss to the underside of my chin. Lower. “You have always been Anastasia Tate. The rest is just paperwork.”

He pushes my dress up, and I open for him as he sinks into me, inch by inch, the heat of his cock filling me until I feel consumed by him.

“I will never get enough of you,” he groans against my lips. “Never, Stasi.”

My hands dig into his back, nails raking his skin as he pushes into me. I bite down on his shoulder. “More.”

And as his hips move against me, as I cry out his name, I know that I will never get enough of them, either.

And we have a lifetime together to make the most of it.