Page 100 of Milo

"Oh, fuck." Milo lets out a wanton growl as I sink down on his length, my walls stretching to accommodate his size. "Kiara?—"

"Mmm…” I swallow his hoarse groans as I move my hips, an orchestra of slapping flesh and mutual moans of pleasure permeating the air around us.

With our naked bodies woven together in a tapestry of trust, we move in blissful unison, heady, sweet sweat filling our lungs. Euphoric pants and gasps blow between our swollen lips as I drag my nails against his back, his shoulders, his neck.

I whimper as Milo switches the angle, thrusting his cock deep inside me as he tugs on my hair, tilting my head, and forcing my eyelids to spring open. My chest heaves as we stare into each other's eyes, picking up speed, my insides on the verge of ethereal spasm.

"Yes," Milo roars, latching onto my nipple, his thumb circling my clit as my walls clench around his cock. Oh, God. My head snaps back from elevated jubilation. "Come, baby. Come for me."

And with those words, I come undone, screaming out his name as I shake in his arms. Milo pumps faster, my body trembling with tranquility as he seeks his own erupting release.

With one final thrust, Milo spills inside of me, capturing my lips, groaning into my mouth, his body sticking to mine as his dick twitches within me.

With tangled limbs and rising chests, we topple over, basking in the glow of satisfaction and comfort.

We remain silent, speechless, because there's nothing more to say.

We've said it all.

After a few minutes of quiet recuperation, we clean ourselves off and climb back into bed. Milo draws me closer to his chest, my head resting on his shoulder as he secures me in his arms.

"You are tired, tesoro.” Milo kisses my temple as I float my fingers up and down the bumpy texture of the healed scars on his arm. "We should sleep."

Having barely survived such an emotionally draining and tumultuous day, I should be tired. Yet, I'm not. I don't want to be. I don't want to sleep. Not yet. I want to hold on to this moment for a little while longer.

I trace a long closed-up wound on one of his triceps. "What happened here? It looks old."

"It is," Milo confirms in a distant tone, his mind wandering. "I fell out of a tree trying to keep up with my brother."

"You climbed trees with your brother?" I tilt my head up and kiss the underside of his jaw. "How precious."

Almost normal.

"I was seven at the time and Sergio was ten." A small, cynical chuckle slips from his lips. "He was very ambitious, even as a child."

I swallow, nuzzling my head deeper into his soft chest, no shields in sight. "What do you mean?"

"He always wanted more," Milo whispers, lazily playing with my fingers. "He wanted to climb the highest, run the furthest, lift the heaviest." A pause. "Ambition, it is a dangerous trait in this life."

"How so?"

Milo closes his eyes, inhaling a deep sobering breath. "When my father passed away, Sergio was more than happy to be named the new head of the family. He always wanted more power, more money, more control. He had a vision for us. That we would dominate the world, not just Italy."

I continue to caress Milo's lithe body as he lets me in, as he demonstrates his trust. "Did he succeed?"

"For the most part, yes." Milo expels a sardonic scoff. "Our hotel and casino business was growing steadily in Italy, but Sergio did not care about borders, he wanted to expand operations into neighboring countries. Over the years we had forged alliances across Europe, and he believed that they would be more than willing to cooperate."

"Like Manuel and Henri?" I ask, a shiver seizing my spine. Milo pulls the duvet over my chest as he cocoons me tighter in his arms.

"Exactly," Milo replies, the heat of his body warming mine. "He managed to secure agreements with gangs in France, Spain, Germany, and Poland. They would use our hotels and casinos to launder profits while we took a small percentage. It was a well-thought-out plan. Everything was fine until—" Milo swallows. "Until he decided he wanted to run Moscow."

The Russians.

"What went wrong?"

"Everything.” His muscles tense. "We had no allies in Russia but Sergio didn't care, he thought he was invincible. Without consulting the family, he set up operations in Moscow. It took many months before the Pravda faction of the brotherhood found out about it but once they did—" He shakes his head. "It all went south."

I listen intently, rejoicing in the fact I'm finally getting the full story. "What happened? What went wrong?"

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