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His hand wrapped around her shoulder, holding her in place. “Don’t look away from me, Mila.” He thrust inside her. “You’re going to watch me fuck you.”
Mesmerized, she watched his girth bury itself inside her wanting pussy. His steady jerking rhythm made her walls squeeze around his shift. She barely noticed the buzzing of the timer as sparks flashed behind her hooded eyes. His cock disappeared inside her over and over again. She couldn’t look away if she wanted to. Seeing herself open and at his mercy flooded her with a depravity all its own.
He sucked on her neck, picking up his speed until he was slamming into her, her breasts bouncing with the impact. She moaned shamelessly, her voice heady with abandon.
“Cyrus, don’t stop.”
“Mmm, that’s right, sweetheart, let go. Look at how fucking perfect you are with my dick inside you.”
A familiar pressure started to build. Mila writhed, rubbing herself against him with all her might. She loved the way his dick looked, soaked and glistening, leaving trails of her honey twisting and winding between them. She was getting closer.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he rasped.
Cyrus’s muscles tensed, and his movements were tight and sharp as he ground into her with ruthless desperation. Her body clenched around him, urging him to give her more. His hands wrapped around her waist in a bruising grip, and he slammed her down onto him while he thrust up to meet her.
She was flying, moving so far above her body; all that existed was pleasure and oblivion. She never wanted to come down. Their moans melded together like their bodies, a symphony far more intriguing than any song she had ever heard.
Cyrus stuck his finger in her mouth, and she sucked on it, hungry to push him as far as he pushed her. His hot breath caressed the shell of her ear. She was right there, standing on a ledge. All she needed to do was jump. She met his eyes in the mirror, their smokey depths the sweetest torture.
And she fell instead.
Crashing into him with the fury of her orgasm.
“Fuck!” he grunted, his body snapping with his own release as hot liquid filled her.
Cyrus pulled her onto his chest, turning her so she faced him. She pressed her lips to his, tasting herself under his distinct masculine flavor.
It would never be enough.
SIXTEEN
CYRUS
Cyrus lay with Mila pressed against his body. Their arms and legs wove around each other, creating a blanket of warmth that required no fabric covering.
Mila’s slow, steady breathing lulled Cyrus into a meditative state before he drifted off to sleep.
Soon after, he found himself standing at the precipice of a wooden stage. A thick red-velvet curtain swayed in a nonexistent breeze. Cyrus stepped up to the plush fabric. He bunched the soft shroud in his hand and pulled it back.
Light burst through the darkness, and Cyrus ducked. After a few moments, his eyes adjusted, and he opened them to the scene in front of him.
Mila was aged, just a few years, and she was standing before him. She was still beautiful. Her dirty-blonde hair was cut sharply and angled toward her face. It enhanced her cheekbones, jawline, and neck.
His mouth watered to taste her.
Her eyes were the rich shade of dark mahogany, but Cyrus could see that she’d lived a little more life. There was a maturity and compassion he hadn’t seen in bed.
“Come on. You’re just in time.” She smiled, took Cyrus’s hand, and pulled him into the room.
They were in his home. Only now, the walls and scenery glowed with a sprinkled gold hue that filled Cyrus’s heart until it was full of contentment and bliss.
Cyrus rubbed his thumb across Mila’s hand. “You don’t want to be late,” she whispered. But she stopped and turned to kiss him.
Cyrus quirked his brows at the soft touch. She still had the same sweet scent of vanilla with the spiciness of rose petals. Mila pulled away. Her eyes sparkled, and she bit her lip. “That will be for later. The boys are waiting for you now.”
“The boys?” Cyrus peaked around Mila’s body to see a birthday party come into focus. “Their birthday,” Cyrus squeezed Mila and followed her into the room. Two small boys, one with blonde hair and one with dark brown, smiled and waved.
Although their hair color differed, they had Mila’s nose and Cyrus’s chin. They looked about the same age, and Cyrus assumed they were twins.
