Underneath the blinding ecstasy, something deeper tears open in my chest—raw and terrifying, it steals what little breath I have left.
“Fuck…” I groan at the sight, my spent cock twitching again with renewed interest. “That’s so goddamn hot, baby.”
She bites her lip, a shy yet wicked smile tugging at her mouth. I lean in and kiss her slowly, reverently, and full of everything I don’t yet know how to say.
Fourteen days with this woman was never going to be enough.
Not even close.
Not by a fucking mile.
Because I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that when it comes to Sienna Harlow, I’m completely and utterly fucking done for.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Sienna
I wake slowly,every muscle still humming with the sweet afterglow of last night.
There’s a deep, satisfying ache between my thighs—a reminder of how completely Milo claimed me and how often he pushed me over the edge until I was trembling and boneless beneath him.
Stretching languidly, my toes curl into the sheets, a lazy, satisfied smile curving my lips before I even open my eyes.
This is dangerous.
Waking up smiling because the man who spent half the night buried inside me is already awake, making us breakfast… because Iknowhim.
Swinging my legs off the bed, I walk into the living area wearing nothing but his oversized button-down. It skims my mid-thigh, and the fabric smells like him. I like it way too much.
Milo stands in the kitchenette with his back to me, mixing eggs in the pan. Fuck me sideways, this man could make scrambling eggs look like a damn photoshoot. The morning light catches the muscles of his shoulders and back, highlighting every shift as he works.
He turns at the sound of my footsteps, and his face lights up with that almost-smile that does ridiculous things to my chest—a flutter, a squeeze, a rush of warmth that spreads all the way down to my toes.
“Morning,” he says, his voice still rough from sleep and from all the ways he groaned my name last night. “Sleep okay?”
“Morning,” I reply, suddenly shy in a way I haven’t been since… ever. I tug nervously at the hem of his shirt. “I slept perfectly. You’re spoiling me by making breakfast every morning.”
“Someone has to,” he murmurs, plating the scrambled eggs. Instead of handing me the plate, he steps close, leans in, and presses a soft, lingering kiss to my lips. It feels likegood morning,thank you, andI want every morning like this,all wrapped up in one. When he pulls back, his eyes are warm and steady. “Eat. You burned a lot of calories last night.”
“From the dancing or…”
I let the words hang in the air as I take a seat. Milo settles across from me, and his gaze slowly traces over me.
“You’re wearing my shirt,” he says, his voice low and pleased. “It looks good on you. You’ve got me wondering whether we should fake an illness so we can stay here all day and I can have you all to myself.”
A thrill runs through me at the thought of spending the day tangled in the sheets with him.
“Finders keepers,” I grin, taking a bite of the eggs and letting out a dramatic moan. “And don’t threaten me with a good time. I’m an expert at getting out of plans… especially when it involves you doing everything you did to me last night.”
His eyes darken. “Everything?”
“Everything,” I answer, heat pooling low in my belly as I hold his gaze.
His fork hovers in midair as he exhales slowly, like he’s trying to keep control. “We have to leave for the pavilion soon…”
I grin, loving how easily I can unravel him. “Then stop looking at me like you want to bend me over this table.”
“Idowant to bend you over this table,” he says, taking a slow sip of coffee, his eyes never leaving mine. The intensity in his eyes sends another rush of heat through me.
