Maybe Ethan’s right. Idoneed to tell her how I feel… before it’s too late.
Chapter Fifty-One
Milo
Wakingup with Sienna curled against me is becoming my favorite thing in the entire world.
She’s sprawled half on top of me, one arm slung possessively across my chest, the other wedged between us, one of her legs thrown over mine like she’s claiming territory even in her sleep.
Her curls are a glorious mess across the pillow and my shoulder, tickling my skin with every tiny shift. Her breathing is slow and even, warm little puffs brushing my collarbone.
Golden morning light filters through the window, painting her skin with warm honey tones.
She’s perfect.
Beautiful.
Mine.
With only three days left on this island before we fly back to New York, I’m soaking up every second, as if it might vanish if I blink too fast. That’s why I need to tell her how I feel—and ideally, soon.
I lie there motionless for a long minute, listening to her breathe and feeling the steady thump of her heart against mine. The thought of going back to New York, knowing she’ll be there—same city, same sky, same chaotic energy that somehowperfectly balances my steadiness—settles something deep and warm in my chest.
I can already picture it: her barging into my office with takeout and no warning, me dragging her out of whatever 2 a.m. adventure she started because she was bored and wanted something to do… mornings like this, but in my penthouse, her apartment, or even somewhere we choose together someday.
The thought makes my heart do a slow, heavy flip.
She stirs with a soft, sleepy sigh and nuzzles closer, her leg sliding higher along mine. Her thigh brushes my morning wood, and I have to bite back a groan.
I press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “Morning, baby.”
“Mmm,” she mumbles, her voice thick and raspy. “Five more minutes.”
I smile into her hair. “Five more minutes. Sure.”
She cracks one eye open, those brown eyes soft and hazy with sleep. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I brush a curl off her cheek. “Sleep okay?”
“Uh-huh. Best sleep I’ve had in years,” she mumbles. “Probably because you wore me out last night.”
Heat flushes through me at the memory—her tied up in blue silk, riding me under the stars, squirting all over my cock while moaning my name.
“Careful,” I murmur, my voice dropping. “Keep talking like that and breakfast is going to beverydelayed.”
She grins, both wicked and sleepy. “Ilovethe sound of that.”
I laugh and roll us over so she’s on her back, pinning her gently. Then I kiss her, savoring how she melts under me as my fingers thread into her hair with a contented sigh. When I finally pull back, her lips are swollen, and her eyes are sparkling.
“Breakfast first,” I say, brushing my nose against hers. “Then we can negotiate delays.”
“Fine,” she sighs reluctantly. “I suppose I can live with that.”
Kissing the tip of her nose, I climb out of bed and pull on a pair of gray sweatpants. She watches me from the bed, propped on one elbow, the sheets barely covering her beautiful frame. The sight does dangerous things to my heart.
With one last lingering look in her direction, I head to the bathroom to relieve myself and brush my teeth. Once that’s done, I step out to see her still lying in bed, arms spread like an angel, staring up at the ceiling.
“You going to get up anytime soon?” I tease.
