Page 96 of Forged in Flames (Made of Steel 2)

I pressed my palm against his tattoo. I could feel his heart beating against my hand. I had been waiting my whole life for this moment. The past didn't matter. The future didn't matter. It was just this moment. This one perfect moment we had carved out in time. "Make love to me, Miles," I whispered.

He leaned forward, placing his hands on the ground on either side of my face. He kissed my forehead and the tip of my nose before brushing his lips against mine. He kept one hand by my head as the other trailed down my body. Down my collarbone, over my right breast, down my torso, until he found my hip. "You're perfect."

I'm not. If only you knew.

"You." His kissed the bottom of my chin. "Are." He kissed my clavicle. "Perfect," he repeated, as if he could read my thoughts.

I quickly blinked away the tears in my eyes. He always had been able to read my thoughts. And he knew I needed him too. Because he thrust inside of me harder than I expected.

There was no hesitancy. No questions. We belonged together. That was clear as day. And God did he feel amazing. There was no better feeling in the world than coming together with your destiny. We always had been written in the stars.

He slowed his pace, and it somehow filled me even more.

Jesus. I arched my back, giving him full access to my body. His lips encircled my nipple and he gently bit down.

I wasn't going to be able to take this for long. I hadn't even come down from my high from earlier and I was already about to let go again. Nothing had ever felt this amazing. Nothing had ever felt this right.

"Don't you ever think this is pretend," he whispered in my ear. "Don't you ever stop believing in what we have. Don't you ever diminish this to something else."

In his own way, I think he was asking me to not let go of hope. But how could he know that I was? And how did he know that he was the only thing making me hold on?

My fingertips dug into the skin on his shoulders. "I love you Miles Young," I whispered into the darkness. I've always loved you.

He didn't say it back. And I was glad he didn't. Part of me thought it might feel like a betrayal to hear it out loud. But I felt it. I knew he loved me too. I felt it with each kiss on my skin. Which each thrust of his cock. With each groan that fell from his lips. It was better that it was left unspoken. Hearing something and experiencing it were very different. I'd take the experience any day.

"Come for me," he said and kissed the side of my neck. "I need to feel you."

"Not yet. Please not yet." This couldn't be over. This was my last chance at living.

"This isn't the end, Sadie." He pulled back slightly and smiled down at me. That smile I loved so much. "It's only just the beginning."

I felt the twitch of his cock and I immediately let go. I clenched around him and I savored the feeling of how warm he felt inside of me. I flew high.

But then I crashed low. So fucking low. Because he was wrong. This wasn't the beginning, it was the end. We began when I was six and he was eight. And we ended now. Tonight. Under the stars. I reached up and pushed his hair off his forehead like I always wished I could do.

He groaned as he rolled over, pulling me on top of him.

I looked down at the tattoo on his chest. Forgive me, I silently pleaded. I kissed his tattoo. I kissed every inch of him I could reach. I tried to kiss away his years of pain. He was broken because of me. I just hoped one night of my love was enough to heal him. I hoped that he'd keep breathing even when I stopped.

He ran his fingers through my hair. "That was amazing. You're amazing."

I'm not. I ran my index finger along the arrow on his heart. "Thank you for tonight, Miles. But I should go."

He lowered his eyebrows. "Thank you? What is that supposed to mean?"

I climbed off his lap and started to pull on my clothes that were scattered about the roof. "Thank you for showing me what it was like to truly live." Every day you showed me that. But tonight...tonight you made me fly. I grabbed the doorknob.

"Don't leave. Stop running." He stood up and yanked his pants on, like he was going to come after me.

"I have to go."

"You can't leave me." There was so much emotion in his voice. It's what I had thought he said when I ran away from him after our kiss in Central Park. I thought I had imagined it. But he had just said it again. It was almost like he knew what was going to happen once I walked away. He knew our time was over. I stared at him. His jeans were still unzipped. His hair was sticking up from the way I had grabbed it. His shirt was still on the ground. He was perfect. My eyes gravitated down to his tattoo. So perfect.

When my eyes met his, I almost gave in. I could feel his pain. I'm sure the look in his eyes was a reflection of my own. Tears brimming at the surface. Tired bags underneath. He looked exhausted. And broken. I hadn't been able to heal him. I had probably made it worse. Coming here had been selfish.

Jane's words about my mother came back to me. Maybe I was more like my mom than I thought. Maybe we were both evil. But Miles would never turn into a monster like Don had. Miles could never be bad. His heart was too pure. His love was too strong to be conquered by hate the way mine had been. Don't let me break you. Don't let me ruin you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

"I left you a note under your door," I said. "It explains everything. Please wait until tomorrow morning to open it. I'm so, so sorry, Miles. But I do love you. And I'm so grateful for every moment we ever had together."

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