Sigma House is always cold.
It’s something I always found ironic, given it’s also the gateway to hell. But with Mila in my room, sitting in the candlelight, it’s strangely peaceful.
The door clicks shut as I face her sitting on my bed.
“Too much?” She presses her palms into the mattress behind her, which pushes up her tits.
Fuck she’s stunning.
Absolute perfection.
Her rich-brown hair is loose and wavy around her shoulders. And the lacy black slip she’s wearing hides nothing. It clings to her every curve, dipping like a heart between her perfect breasts. Her see-through thigh-highs stop just above her knees.
She’s all skin, lace, and beauty.
And I’m the monster who doesn’t mind taking a bite. Who craves her taste whether it damns her to hell with me or not.
I cross the room, not caring that all I have to offer her is a heart seeping with toxin. One I’m tempted to cut from my chest now. To lay it at her feet to prove that I didn’t actually have a purpose until she walked into my life. I might have been the one to pull her from the fire, but she’s the one who saved me.
She grabbed my mangled hand and saw something beyond the monster they created.
Lacing my fingers into the back of her hair, I look into her eyes. While her body is sinful perfection, her stare is what pulls me in. It anchors me to a life I didn’t want until I met her.
“You don’t need to dress up for me, Mila.” I plant a kiss on her forehead. “Not that I’m complaining.”
She grabs my wrist and pulls my hand from her hair, down her neck, pausing on the swell of her breast. “I know you don’t need it. That’s why I want to.”
Mila leans forward, slipping off the bed and kneeling in front of me.
My entire body goes rigid at the sight of her becausewhile it looks like submission, she knows what she’s doing is something else entirely. There are very few things I can resist when it comes to this girl, but her touch still terrifies me. Strips me to the bone. Unravels all my control.
Her hands rest on my thighs, and I know what she’s asking with her big green eyes. It has my back stiff, and my throat clogged.
Mila is testing how much I trust her after our confessions to each other this morning. She’s seeing how far I’ll let go of the reins for her.
“Can I?” She looks up at me, stunning me to silence. “Will you let me touch you, Alex?”
The first time we fucked, I could barely handle her hands on my chest. Now, she’s asking for it all. She wants to be the one to make me come apart. And as much as every fiber of my body tries to resist, I want that with her.
Mila blinks up at me, accepting the monster I am. A man who doesn’t regret what he’s done. She could resent me for lying to her about the past, or going to extremes for her now, but she doesn’t. Which is why I try to release the leash. To trust her when I don’t trust myself.
I grip one of the bed’s four posts, staring into her wide green eyes.
Words won’t come out. I can’t say a damn thing when she rips into my rawest wounds and demands I let her see them. So I nod instead, swallowing against the knot lodged in my throat.
Mila’s small hands skate around my knees and up my thighs. Everything from my toes to my cock is heavy as her palms trace closer. Her tits press against the thin black lace. But I don’t break her stare. It’s all that holds me here. All that keeps me together as she works at the zipper and slowly frees my cock.
It aches. And when she wraps her hand around the base, I’m throbbing. Blood pounds between my temples, silencing anything but my heartbeat as she strokes me to the tip.
I’ve done my best to control my urges around her. But the trust in her gaze as she lifts on her knees nearly rips me in two.
Her lips part, and I lose all remaining sanity as her tongue flattens against the head of my cock. I leak into her mouth, and the wooden bedpost groans from how much pressure I’m putting on it.
Sweat beads on the back of my neck, but it’s not from the candles in the room.
Mila wraps her perfect lips around my cock, and I lose all hope I’ll survive her. Nothing has killed me up until this point, even when I wished it would. But Mila Bianchi is going to be the end of me.
My cock hits the back of her throat, and I steal that hit of heaven I’m not allowed.