Page 87 of Paper Thin Love

"Make it stop."

I thrust paint covered hands into his icy blonde hair, which is such a strange and unique color that mirrors the man.“Give into me,” I whisper.

“Please. My body is aching to feel, and you make it feel.” My thighs burn at the thought of him between them.“Let me feel all of you, Dash.” I seal my desire with a kiss so deep and passionate I feel Dash waver. His feet stumble, causing the both of us to brush against the wet canvas.

I sense his hesitation. I grab his hand.“Mila,” he warns.

“When did you ever heed a warning, Dash? Now isn’t the time.” I taunt him as I guide his hand to my sex, only the yoga pants I have on separate us. But the fabric is no match for how wet I am. I tilt my head back and feel his fingers move, feeling my wetness seep through the fabric.“Mila,” his pupils dilate as the realization hits.

“You did that to me.” His fingers move fast, circling my sex with pride. Even through the thin fabric of my yoga pants, it’s enough to make me come undone.

Our bodies press together, chest to chest, broken heartbeat to broken heartbeat, every inch of us craving the contact, the connection that makes us feel less corrupted even if we are the ones doing the corruption.

It’s a dance of raw passion that I memorize and embrace. I wish taking center stage felt like this. If it did, I’d turn to ballet and not the lips of the devil.“Please, Dash,” I need more. I need his fire to burn every inch of me, take away all my pain, all my years of just enduring this life.

“Please, what?” He hisses as he bites my bottom lip. He hesitates for a moment, then slips his hand into my pants. I gasp when his finger slides right into my aching, wet sex.“You want this? You want all of me, Mila?”

I nod feverishly.“Yes.” I sigh.

As if trying to split me in two so he can have more of me, he curls his finger and thrusts it deeper and deeper.“What if it destroys you?”

“I don’t care.” My hips ride his hand unbridled.

Out of nowhere, he seizes my neck with his left hand.“You should.” He purrs with a mixture of admiration and hate.“Remember this day because it’s going to haunt you, little fox.” He slips his hand free from my sex, only to begin rubbing my clit. I come, break, shatter; a part of me spills open, revealing itself to Dash. I come undone like an ant hill that had a bucket of water poured on it, little pieces of me scatter around trying to find some semblance of home.

When I look up, I see icy blue eyes instead of the warm hazel streaks. Dash removes his hand from my body and steps back. It is both cruel and honorable. We’re exposed literally in the classroom. As often as Dash says, he doesn’t have feelings for me, he does. He’s still trying to protect my heart.

“Run away with me.”

He wears a cruel smirk.“I wouldn’t even if I could.”

The feeling that sparks in my heart is stronger than a nuclear blast.“Why? Am I not enough?” A single tear slips away.

“No, Mila.” He turns, giving me his back, his fortress.“I’m not.”

Chapter 33

Dash

“What the fuck happened to you?” Dante ask once I walk past him into our training room. He circles me like a shark, no doubt seeing the black paint that is staining the back of my hair. I didn’t have time to shower before training. I didn’t want to.

I should have taken Mila right there against the wet paint. Plunged deep inside of her tight walls, tasted her moans, swallowed her cries, felt her heart beat against my dead one.

I wanted to.

I always assumed it washerwho made a deal with me but it might be the other way around. Slowly she has been breaking me, tricking me, playing with my soul.

Just fuck her. Give her what she wants.

Don’t give in. Don’t feel more than you do. You’re already feeling too much for her.

Just…use her. Just…

I squeeze my eyes shut.

“I was helping Mila.” I reply.

“Doing what? Dyeing your hair?” Cillian jokes as he tapes his knuckles.

---