Page 132 of Milo

"Do you forgive me, tesoro?" he rasps into my ear, teasing my clit, dipping only the tip of his fingers inside me. "Tell me that you forgive me."

"Yes," I whimper, lifting my hips to the heel of his hand, rocking my pelvis into his touch, my pussy aching to be full, touched, fucked. "I do."

"Good." A gust of relief slips past his lips. "On top.” He pinches my nipples between his fingers as I straddle him, rubbing my sex against his cock. "I want to watch you."

He grabs the base of his shaft, keeping it steady as I ease myself down on him. It hurts so fucking good as he fills me to the hilt, stretching my walls, snapping the barrier that's kept us apart for too goddamn long. His eyes never leave mine as he thrusts, spearing his cock deeper inside my clenching pussy.

Crying out in pleasure, I lean back, grabbing his ankles as I ride him, feel him, savor him. God, how I've missed him. I missed being close to him, not just in proximity but in spirit, in fucking soul. He's inside of me. A part of me. We are one.

A chaotic, catastrophic, cathartic fucking being.

As his thumb circles my clit, as my moans fill the air, as his possessive grip on my hips tightens, I feel whole. I feel complete. The shards of broken self, of broken morals, of broken hearts, they slowly mend together, one powerful thrust at a time. One piece, two, three. All the lies, all the doubt, all the hesitation, they slip away, they vanish, replaced by trust, faith, and blissful hope.

"Look at me," he growls, his voice strained. "Look at me, Kiara." I stare down at him, and I see it. I see it so fucking clearly. He grabs my waist, locking me in place as he thrusts sharply inside me. "I fucking love you. You're fucking mine." I close my eyes, on the brink of ecstatic release. "Say it!"

"I'm yours," I choke out, my whole body violently shaking as I come undone. "I'm yours."

With a guttural groan, Milo finds his release, pulling me flush against his sticky chest. “I love you."

Unable to keep my eyes open or form coherent words, I simply nod. Unable or unwilling? It's right there. On the tip of my tongue. Just say it. For fuck sakes, say it!

"I know," I hum, hating myself for being so weak. "I know."

I love you too.

Crouching down by the side of the bed, I rest my head on the edge of the mattress. "Hey," I whisper, caressing Milo's cheek. "Wake up, we need to go downstairs."

He stirs, opening his eyes, a low, sleepy groan escaping his lips. "Or we can stay in bed," he says in a suggestive tone. "Come here."

I chuckle, standing up and crossing my arms. "Get up," I demand, tilting my head. "Julia won't let Natalia open any presents until we're all together. Your niece is about ten minutes away from a full-blown temper tantrum."

Milo pouts. "But it's Christmas, Kiara. A day of giving." He peers down at his half-erect penis. "What am I to do? I need help."

"Mind over matter, baby.” I grab a pile of clothes off the foot of the bed and toss it to him. "Get dressed. You have two minutes."

Milo scowls, propping himself up and slipping on a black shirt. "You are very bossy this morning, tesoro.” He climbs out of bed, his dick on full display. I blush, pressing my lips into a thin line as my throat dries. He smirks, cocking his head. "Mind over matter, baby."

"Shut up and put some fucking pants on."

Milo laughs as he slides on a pair of briefs and jeans. "Your loss, gattina.”

I roll my eyes, chucking him his watch. He slips it over his wrist. "Okay, let's go." He yawns, wrapping his arm over my shoulder as we head downstairs. "Are you still tired?"

"Yes.” He squeezes his eyelids open and shut. "I need an espresso."

"Yeah, you had a long day yesterday." I bite my lip as we round the staircase. "How did everything go in Milan by the way? Any problems?"

"Surprisingly no. I thought Nico would fuck something up, but everything is going according to plan. My associates in Moscow are ready to go on our command."

"When are you doing it?" I whisper, swallowing back unease. "You said before the new year, right?"

"New Year's Eve," Milo reveals, unbothered by the fact he's going to murder someone. "Igor is hosting a party, we will do it then. Their arms warehouse will be unmanned. It is the perfect opportunity. How is it you Americans put it? Two birds, one stone?"

"That's a really big stone," I murmur in a low hum. "Are you sure this is a good idea? What if they try to retaliate? What if it gets worse? How do you know this will put an end to all of this?"

Milo stops us at the bottom of the staircase. He cups my cheek, meeting my worried eyes. "Pravda is not a very organized faction of the brotherhood. They are reckless and arrogant. Without Igor, they will not be able to remain in power." He strokes my hair, placing a soft kiss on my lips. "Do not worry, tesoro, they will not be a problem anymore."

I blow out a slow exhale, leaning into his touch. "You're confident? I don't want you to get hurt."

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