Page 78 of Ink Deep Devotion

No, I need her to give up to keep her safe.

“Fucking tell me!” I roar, feeling my chest cut itself open so she can see the ugly heart that beats within those decaying walls.“How can I love you openly, knowing my enemies will kill you? How do I ignore you, knowing that is killing you too? No matter what I do, you die. So I have to choose a physical or mental death.”

I didn’t want her to see this side of me. My ugly, feral, untamed beast that lurks so deep; it howls at night when it isdenied her touch and ravages during the day when I allow it to stalk her.

She openly cries now.I want to lick away the tears that slowly paint her cheeks. Bottle them up to use when I want to draw her image.

See what you did? Did you think this would fix it?

“We can’t worry about things we can’t control.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I can control it!” I can make the world think I hate you and love some other poor decoy.

She shakes her head, eyes glinting with emotions.“No, you can’t. I could drop dead this minute. Wouldn’t you regret not loving me when we had the chance?”

My heart chills for one moment. Shock. Then it roars in fury.“You plant such vile seeds and expect flowers to grow instead of weeds,” I growl.

Those words, the image of her dying…

The walls within me, the iron gate around my heart, slide open.

Control is lost.

The air surrounding us becomes too thin to breathe; only Mila can be my oxygen; she can feed my body what it needs in order to survive.

Grabbing her hand, I turn toward the nearest door. A twist of the knob—it’s locked—but one strong kick, and it breaks open. Half-finished sculptures surround us, fitting since our love is as unmoving and abrasive as their marble stone. The images are forever trapped, begging to be carved out from the rock, just like our passion.

I don’t bother trying to close the door since it’s hanging half off the hinges. Music from the other room sinks through the walls, obscuring our sins.

“Dash!”

I spin her around, eyes set ablaze as I grab her, cementing her body against mine. I need to see her alive in my arms, and I need to hear her crying in pleasure and not pain.

Need her! So, so badly!

Nothing makes sense, not one plus one, not letters that could form words. Nothing but Mila, but tasting her and claiming her.

My mouth covers her in a feverish passion. Utter loss of control and sense of reality.

Peace.

The kiss, the taste of her on my lips, transports me to a different world entirely.

I wish we could stay, run away like she always wanted to, but running only provokes predators.

A soft sob fills my ears. Small hands grab at me, agreeing to plunge into this madness together.

Bliss!

Stupidity.

Regret.

Memories savored.

She matches my strokes, my desires, as she slips her hand inside my pants, grasping my hard cock. I’m so sensitive; it’s been so long since I’ve fucked her, since I’ve allowed myself the pleasure. A few hard jerks of her hand and I almost come.

The force of our passion takes the breath from my lungs, but the only cure, the only inhale that will fill my body and stop it from suffocating, is kissing her more.

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