Page 115 of Unwritten Rules

“Harder for you? Do you think this is easy for me?”

The stranger pounds his giant fist on his chest. “I needed to see you, Ana. Please, it’s not too late. Leave him, leave the child, and come with me.”

* * *

“Nathaniel?”

Mila’s voice rouses me from my thoughts. From my… memory?

It felt as though it was me, but what four-year-old holds memories that vivid?

I shake my head, returning to the here and now, putting all thoughts of apple blossom bouquets and strange men from my mind.

Leading my love by the hand, I make our way further into the sweet-smelling orchard until we come to a natural opening amongst some old apple trees flowering heavily with pink blossoms.

“This is perfect.”

As though plucking the thought straight from my mind, Mila stops and spreads the checkered blanket out on the grass.

Kneeling beside her, I set about unpacking the picnic.

“He’s packed your favourites, Hellcat.”

I lay out three different types of bread and four different types of cheese, along with strawberries, raspberries, and chocolate.

Chuckling, I grin at her. “Yup, he’s checked off all your must-have food groups.”

“Look, there’s champagne too!”

Mila grabs the bottle of Bollinger that I added before leaving the house and kisses the label dramatically.

“And it’s cold!” She passes it to me, happiness emanating from her as I pop the cork and pour two glasses, dropping the bottle back into the ice bag I’d packed it in.

Sitting back on the blanket, she stretches her legs out and crosses them at the ankles. “But first, let’s eat.”

Mila makes short work of more than her fair share as I sit back to nibble on my brioche and sip my champagne, far too intent on watching her to care about something as mundane as eating.

I don’t know when it happened, but Mila DeMarco has become an obsession running through my very veins. My need for her lives within me.

She’s an addiction more intoxicating and addictive than any substance.

“Are you going to actually eat something?” Mila’s amused voice interrupts my musing. “Or are you too involved in watching me make a pig of myself?”

My lip twitches as I hold her eyes in silence, the sound of palpable longing filling the air around us.

We watch one another for a long beat, the heat between us building. Her pupils are blown, drowning all the colour from her unique eyes as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down hard.

Her action makes my dick jerk in my pants. Suddenly, the only thing on my mind is showing her the level of my obsession. Demonstrating precisely how much of a junkie I am for her.

“Why would I eat this standard fare…” I trail off, reaching across the blanket to palm her bare ankle, eliciting a gasp. “…when I could eat you?”

I rise onto my knees, gripping her free ankle with my other hand and easing her legs apart. Her short dress rides up further, displaying simple white panties beneath, the sight making my cock spring to attention.

Hooking my thumb and forefingers into either side of the soft cotton, I tug insistently. “Lift.”

One word, spoken with absolute authority, and she obeys immediately, without question.

Her sex sparkles with her honeyed arousal when I peel her panties down her legs, fisting them in my grasp to bring them to my nose.