Page 162 of Messy Strokes (Wrecked Roommates)

I don’t blame them.

He looks terrifying like this. All hyped up on adrenaline and anger. On disappointment and pain. I’m the one who caused it all, and it breaks my heart.

With his back to me, he drops his chin to his chest and takes slow, controlled breaths, refusing to even acknowledge me as he turns off the music.

The room now blanketed in silence, I whisper, “I’m not going anywhere, Milo.”

Inching closer to him, I reach out and touch the soft, dark cotton covering his lower back, silently begging him to turn around. To look at me. To give me another chance. And to listen to what I have to say.

“Running. Disappearing. It’s what broke us the first time,” I admit. “I didn’t understand how, for once in your life, you wanted someone to fight for you the way you always fight for everyone else.”

The heat radiating from him warms my fingertips, but the bastard doesn’t move a muscle. His head is cocked, though. And I can hear his breathing. Which means he can hear me, too, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

“Instead, I ran,” I whisper, praying he can also hear the sadness in my voice even though he refuses to see it firsthand because I saw my reflection in the mirror. I know what I look like. Andsadis an understatement.

“I’mnotrunning this time, Milo.”

His back could be made from stone with how tight his muscles are, but he turns around and faces me, still silent. Still cold.

I gulp past the lump in my throat. Past my fear. My insecurities. All of it. And I press on.

“You wanted me to want you more than anything else in the world. You wanted me to care about you the same way you cared about me. And I’m here to prove it to you.” I brush my fingers against his calloused knuckles resting at his sides. By some miracle, he doesn’t pull away, so I grab hold and unclench his fists, tangling our fingers together. Carefully. Cautiously. Like he’s a terrified lion who could lash out at any second.

And I know I’d deserve it if he did.

“I know you thought I’d get bored,” I continue. “You thought I’d want something or someone else. It’s why you didn’t come after me the first time. But I don’t care how long it takes. I’m going to prove you’re the only one for me. And you’re the only one for Penny too.”

His jaw ticks.

“You’re my dandelion, Milo. Resilient. Beautiful. You granted me my biggest wish. A family. A place to stay. Support. Everything a girl could possibly ask for. And if you give me another chance, I promise to make you peanut butter sandwiches after sex and more babies you can adore as much as Penny. I’ll give you whatever you want. Except space. Because it isn’t what you need. Not anymore. What you need…isme. The same way I need you––”

He grabs my waist and tugs me against him, pressing his mouth to mine in a hard kiss. I open up to him, my lips quivering under his demanding touch. But I love it. The way his tongue slides against mine. The way his fingers bruise my hips. The way I can taste his desperation the same way I know he can taste mine. Like our own emotional layers, he sheds our clothes, tossing them to the floor without a care as to where they might land as he pulls me toward the bed and lays me down. Biting. Nipping. Sucking. Every square inch of my skin he can get his mouth on before spreading my legs and settling between them.

“Milo––”

“You’re mine.”

“I know.”

“This”––he shoves himself inside me––“is mine.”

“Yes,” I gasp from the intrusion.

“These”––he squeezes my breasts, bruising my sensitive flesh with his fingertips as he pumps in and out of me faster and faster––“are mine.”

“Yes, Milo. I’m all yours. I’m all yours,” I chant. Each and every thrust carries me higher and higher.

“Forever,” he growls against my throat, biting roughly, pushing me toward my orgasm in record time.

It’s never been like this with anyone else.

Only him.

Always him.

How can he not see––or feel––what he does to me? He knows exactly how to wreck me and put me back together again. Over and over. And I wouldn’t change it for anything.

“Always,” I breathe out as I arch my back and scrape my fingernails against his bare skin. I’m so close. I can feel it. Hell, I can almost taste it. The impending crash which will carry us both into oblivion. In each other's arms. The way it’s supposed to be.

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