Page 75 of A New Days Don

I open my mouth, the words on the tip of my tongue. “I-I want you.” I stammer, and Massimo’s eyes screw shut, his cock pulsing a steady beat. He lets out a ragged breath.

“Say. It. Again.” He demands, and I have never felt more powerful as I step towards him, placing my hand on his stubbled cheek. He looks slightly unhinged, not in the way he looked as he took the soul of his victim at the warehouse, but in the way I picture a seasoned apex predator may look at something he wants to devour.

A shiver of awareness rolls through me. Despite all the self-preserving alarm bells that screech and echo through my head at who is standing in front of me, I say, “I want you.”

Chapter 31

Massimo

I want you.

Her soft voice curls around every sharp edge of me. It pierces through every blackened part of my soul, bursting with her light before making itself at home where I am the most vulnerable.

I knew her body wanted me. She made it abundantly clear with her needy little whimpers. The part of her that trusts me wants to break her tightly wound routine that stresses her more than it brings her peace. But the other part of her, the side that has won the argument for her own safety for the last six years, puts up a hell of a fight against me, against this turbulent desire and attraction between us.

She’s everything I could have ever dreamed of in a woman and more. Every broken piece of her that she bravely put back together.

I release the silken ropes that were fisted in my hand.

I plan to tie her up, to force her brain to go blank and blindly trust me. Only then will I know she is ready for this.

The silk ropes fall to the carpeted bedroom floor silently as I drop to my knees for her.

My woman. My soul. My angel.

I don’t deserve her. No man on this Earth deserves her. But I am a selfish asshole.

She consumes me, and she doesn’t even realize it. I will kneel at the altar that is her physical form and worship her inside and out for the rest of our lives in an attempt to follow her to heaven, because that is where she’s going in our afterlife. I will be damned if I don’t chase her through the cosmos right to nirvana when this is all said and done.

Mila gasps, her eyes swirling with confusion and lust. The combination is intoxicating. She was staring at me like this, eyes wide and innocent. I’m fucking glad I’m on my knees, otherwise she would have taken me out.

“Let me worship you,” I all but beg. It wasn’t supposed to be me begging, but I have a feeling this woman could change all my plans with the snap of her fingers.

Mila nods her head hesitantly; her raven hair frames her face wildly as she does.

I slowly trail my hands up the curve of her hip. Her black pants are soft under my palms, and the heat of her body emanates through them, making saliva pool in my mouth. My heart thunders hard against its cage at the thought of being able to taste her for the first time. To feel her wet pussy and drown myself in her.

I watch her as my hands rest on the waistband, waiting a few seconds for her to tell me no, for the panic to shut me out. When it doesn’t, I pop the button. Unlike that day in my car, I don’t lose Mila to the motherfucker who has consumed her for far too long. That’s right, beautiful, your mind belongs to me now, and I will be damned if I let that scum destroy what is mine any further.

Her pupils are blown wide, and her body trembles.

Fuck.

I love watching her body react for me.

I can’t fucking wait to make her a trembling mess of sweat and arousal.

I slowly glide her zipper down, each notch echoing in my skull and making my cock leak a little more for her. Her pulse beats erratically against her delicate neck, and her hands curl into fists. Her eyes dart away for a split second, checking the room around us as if she needs confirmation, she is here with me and not in that alley.

“Shhh, you are with me, Mila. You’re safe.” I murmur as the pale, lacy pink of her panties peeks up at me from between her open pants. My gaze flicks back to her ceruleans. They are hooded, and her knees buckle, but I don’t let her fall. I brace my hands on her thighs as I stand up.

She needs a bed. She deserves a bed, comfort, and everything in between.

“We shouldn’t do this.” She whimpers as her cheeks flush a tantalizing pink, “I can’t.”

The sound she makes is tortured, and every cell, every fucking atom inside me rages. She doesn’t mean she can’t orgasm or enjoy sex. I know exactly who and what is holding her back, making her fear freedom. Like fucking hell she can’t.

The demons that have been holding her back for years do not get to win tonight. If I have my say in it, I will destroy each and every one until she is free. My angel will never have to face hell alone again.