Page 131 of Milo

"I thought you said no pressure," I say, casting her a playful scowl. "That seems like a lot of pressure."

"It is important to seize opportunities, my father taught me that." Luisa shrugs unapologetically, gazing adoringly at Claudia. "I was scared too, Kiara, but I decided to choose love over fear. I had to be honest with myself, that took a long time, but once I accepted my feelings, I felt whole." She glances at me. "So be honest with yourself, Kiara, and choose love."

"You're willing to risk everything for her?"

"I don't want to die with regrets."

Neither do I.

Chapter 34

Tidal Waves

I'm in a dream right now.

White sand stretches as far as the eye can see. Frothy crests of aquamarine waves break on the beach and ebb away. Tranquil silence surrounds me as I dig my heels into the warmth of the fine-grained sand, the sun beating down on my face, my body, seeping into my pores.

I know this is a dream because I've had it hundreds of times. I sit in the same spot, on the same beach, staring out into the same ocean. But the sensation of peace that thrums through my veins as I watch the waves crash never lasts.

It's a mirage, an illusion, a delusion.

The wind will pick up and the waves will get larger, stronger, faster. They will charge at me like aquatic warriors, gaining confidence, bravado with every gust, every tremble of land.

In the distance, I'll see a wave that looks like a mountain, like moving earth. It'll taunt me, it'll get higher and closer, and then it'll wash me away.

It'll drown me. It'll leave me breathless. It'll kill me. It always does.

Except for today.

I've been here for hours, for days, maybe even years and there's no tidal wave. My body feels so warm, so safe, so fucking calm. The hot, humid air, it's hugging me, enveloping my entire being in an embrace. The gentle cool breeze is whispering in my ear that it loves me, that it treasures me, that it's never going to betray me.

It takes only a second of consciousness for me to realize that it's not the air that's keeping me warm, but his arms. It's not the wind that's breathing adoration into my lungs, but his words. And it's not the deserted island that's keeping me safe, comfortable, at peace – it's him.

I roll over in his arms, the bright glow of the moon illuminating the sharp edge of his jaw, his cheekbones, the slope of his neck. He's here. He's my island. My refuge. A shield from the storm.

"I can feel you staring at me," Milo whispers, his eyelids fluttering open, a ghost of a smile on his face.

"What time is it?" I ask, my vision adjusting to the dark. "When did you get here?"

"It's 4 a.m." Milo feathers his fingers across my arm. "Go back to sleep, Kiara. Close your eyes."

"You didn't wake me up…” I run my hand down the sculpted ridges of his bare chest. "You should've woken me up."

"Clearly I did," he murmurs, cupping my face in his hand, his thumb grazing my lips. His gaze flickers across my shadowed, flustered face. "Go back to sleep, Kiara."

"No." I shake my head, my chest rising with need as I mold my body against his, my breasts spilling out of my nightgown. "I don't want to sleep."

"What do you want?" His knowing dark eyes float down to my parted lips. "Use your words," he whispers as I find his hand and guide it to my sex. His fingers curl under my panties, feathering my wet folds. "Kiara?—"

"I want to feel you," I breathe, closing my eyes as he rolls on top of me, his growing erection grazing my midsection. I release his cock, stroking the hard length of his smooth shaft. "Please."

"Fuck," he groans, grasping the hem of my nighty and slipping it off my body in one swift motion. He rips off my panties and tosses them aside. Looking down, he studies every inch of my naked body, his gaze predatory, protective, promising. A total contradiction. He wants to destroy me and save me. Protect me and harm me. Fuck me and make love to me. All at the same fucking time. And I want it too.

I want his chaos.

"Milo," I whine impatiently.

My desperate plea is all it takes for his lips to claim mine. Our tongues collide and we feast upon each other, starved, deprived, damn near feral. He coils his fingers around my wrists, pinning my hands over my head. His knee parts my thighs as he captures my nipples in his mouth, his teeth biting at the tender peaks. I moan, writhing under his touch.

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