Page 49 of Milo

"I have a couple of patients.” She presses a kiss on Natalia's forehead. "It is not a full-time job but it's rewarding."

"I think that's very admirable.” Julia flicks off the lights and slowly shuts the bedroom door. She clearly doesn't need to work yet she does.

Julia smiles, suppressing a yawn. "Thank you, Kiara. I think I will go to sleep now. Too much champagne."

"Goodnight, Julia," I say as she gives me a parting hug.

I guess I'll go to sleep too.

Climbing the stairs to the top floor of the estate, I round the corner and head down the hallway. Just as I'm about to reach my room, Milo emerges from the powder room, the butterfly on his cheek washed away, reverting him back to his old dangerous self.

"Hi," I whisper, lingering in the middle of the dimly lit hallway. My nerve endings buzz at the sight of the gorgeous man in front of me. "You disappeared."

Milo stalks toward me, spearing me with his sharp gaze. Chaos stirs in my chest as he gets closer and closer and closer—until he's too close.

Much too close.

"Were you looking for me?" His merciless gaze sweeps across my face and outlines the curves of my body. Flushed. I feel so damn flushed. “Did you miss me, perhaps?”

"No…” My chest rises from the malignant desire bubbling in my blood.

Milo lifts his hand up to my cheek, his long fingers tracing down the slope of my neck, down my collarbone, my chest, over the heaving swells of my breasts.

"There are sculptors around the world, Kiara," he rasps, his fingers stopping at my nipples, circling the stiff, desperate peaks. "That would die a thousand deaths just to have you as their muse."

I bite my lip as he continues his tortuous ministrations. "Any of them in Monaco? Maybe I'll reach out to a few. I seem to have a lot of free time these days."

Milo's dark eyes narrow in controlled frustration as he drops his hand, leaving me longing for his touch. "I can think of several ways in which we can fill your empty days.” His voice is low, gruff, infuriatingly seductive. "All you have to do is ask."

"Is that what you want, Mr. Di Vaio? To fill my...days?"

"Kiara…” He drags his rough thumb across my parted bottom lip, his muscles tensed, full of restraint. "It is what you want as well. Come to me, bella. I will make you feel so full."

My insides constrict with debilitating need as I place a covetous hand on his chest, my conflicted heart thrumming between my lungs, lust and logic jousting for reign in my mind.

I trail my fingers down the length of his suit, my lips parted, parched, as I look up at him. “If you want me, you know where to find me."

Milo coils his fingers around my wrist, holding me with a firm grip, his gaze glinting with violent hunger.

"Why must you be so difficult, Kiara? This is a war you will never win."

With subtle defiance, I arch into Milo's chest, melding my body against his, his semi-hard-on pushing against my core.

"That seems uncomfortable.” I rock my hips in tiny circles, the friction inching me closer to surrender. "If only there was a way to remedy your unfortunate situation."

"You will break, Kiara," he growls, his jaw twitching. He takes a step back, a guttural groan escaping the back of his throat, his expression glowing with disdain, torture. "I will break you."

"I'm already broken, Mr. Di Vaio," I whisper, my stubborn resolve almost melting. Almost. "Yet here we are."

"No, Kiara, you are simply bent. But when I'm done with you, you will be shattered, broken beyond all recognition."

"I'm not fragile like glass, Mr. Di Vaio,” My pulse quickens, "I'm fragile like a bomb."

"In that case," he smirks, turning on his heel. "I can't wait to make you explode."

"Me too.”

Me fucking too.

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