20. A Tectonic Shift

Chapter 20

A Tectonic Shift

It starts in my toes, a low rumbling. The trembles of psychotic craze vibrates up my ankles, calves, thighs, filling my chest, flowing through my arms, my neck, up to my throat, to my lips.

I've reached my limit. I am no longer in control.

"What's wrong?!" I slam the pistol on the steel high-top table, my hands shaking as I storm toward Milo. My chest heaves as I glare at him. "You're seriously asking me what's wrong ? Everything! Everything is fucking wrong!"

Milo is silent, the corners of his lips curved down into a frown as he stares at me with those stupid fucking brown eyes. Those wicked, decadent irises that pierce into my goddamn sullied soul.

"I am so fucking tired!" Tears flood my vision, every atom in my body boiling. "I can't sleep! I can't close my eyes without seeing his fucking face!"

"Kiara—"

"No!" I clench my fists. "Do you have any idea what it feels like to experience every emotion of the human spectrum but also feeling nothing at the same time?! Do you?! "

"Yes, tesoro." His eyebrows knit in profound understanding. "I know."

"No! You don't! You can't! In order to experience human emotions, you need to be a fucking human! And you—" I clench my teeth, shaking my head. "You're a monster, a fucking criminal with no heart, no conscience, no regard for human life!"

His troubled gaze scans my face, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. "You are not a monster, Kiara." He takes a measured step toward me, hesitating for a brief second before caressing my cheek with the back of his large hand. His knuckles catch falling hot tears. "You are not a monster."

"I wasn't until I met you !" I push against his firm chest with two hands. "You did this! I was fine before you! Everything was fine! And now?" I suck in a ragged breath, slamming my palms against his torso. "I don't even know who I am anymore! You did this! This is all your fault!"

Milo stands frozen, his expression uncharacteristically submissive as I beat my fists against his chest.

"Why?!" I shove him, voice cracking, pained. "Why did you have to come to my bank? Why did you have to choose my till? Why me ? Why?! If it weren't for you, I wouldn't feel like this! I wouldn't feel so lost, so empty, so fucking broken! I hate you! I fucking hate you!"

"I am sorry, Kiara." Milo closes his eyes as I continue my assault. "I am sorry this happened, and I am so sorry that you are hurting—" He pauses, sucking in a small breath. "But?—"

My head snaps up, my fingers scrunching up the fabric of his shirt.

"But what ?"

"But I did not force you to do anything." His tormented gaze flickers around my stunned features. "You made those decisions yourself, Kiara. You chose to tell me about the bomb. You shot Andre on your own accord. I did not force your hand."

My mouth hangs open as I blink at him, disbelief gushing through my pores. "Didn't force my hand?! If I didn't meet you, then none of this would have happened! You were the catalyst! It started with you, Milo! You!"

"No, Kiara," he snakes his hands around my wrists, his grip gentle, tender, "It started with you ."

No. He's wrong. It wasn't me. It wasn't.

"You had a bomb strapped to your fucking chest!" I writhe in his grasp. "What was I supposed to do? Not tell you?! Spend the rest of my life worrying, thinking I could have prevented a possible death?!"

"Why did you tell me?" The low tenor of his voice rattles my bones. "You could have stayed quiet. You could have called the police after I left. Yet, you told me. Why, Kiara?"

My heart seizes in my chest as I use all my strength to break my wrists free from his tightening grip.

"Because you were in trouble," I choke out, running both hands through my hair as I stumble away from him. "Because I wanted to help you, because?—"

"Exactly," he whispers. "Because you are a good person, tesoro. You are a kind, caring woman who chose to help a monster like me. Because at that moment, you did not see a criminal, Kiara. You saw a human. And that is still what I am."

My lungs expand, our eyes intertwining into a complex labyrinth of craving, grief, confusion, fury, want.

Hesitation.

"You kill people…" I hold back tears, polarizing emotions battling in my weary brain. "How can you be human? "

"Because the people I kill, Kiara—" Milo stalks toward me, his chest rising as he stops mere inches away from my spent body. He palms my cheek, his thumb grazing my hairline. "They are the real monsters." He looks so sad, so fucking honest as he peers down at me. "If only you knew what kind of terrible people reside in our world, you would not be so quick to judge me for my actions."

Loaded silence hangs in the air as we stare at one another, our breathing shallow, uneven, fucking synchronized.

"Please do not hate me, tesoro." He leans his forehead against mine as I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to respond to his plea. "I cannot stand your silence."

His touch affects me like a slow-burning affliction, an ailment, a malady. It makes me sick. Sick with thirst. Sick with hunger. And with his palm pressed against my cheek, with the heat from his strong hand emanating into my sensitive skin, seeping into my core—I'm starving.

I'm fucking famished.

It's wrong and immoral and twisted but I want him. I need him.

So fucking bad.

I need him to touch me, feel me, fuck me until I can't stand. Until I can't breathe. Until all the pain and anger and sorrow are replaced by him. All of him. Only him. Every fucking inch.

The real game is over. The war is over. I surrender. I lose. My king is down, trampled, destroyed. And I don't care anymore. There's no point.

He wants me. And I so desperately want him.

So, fuck it.

He wins.

I lurch forward, clutching onto his shirt as I slam my lips against his. Our teeth crash, scraping against one another as our tongues collide— sloppy, wet, ravenous .

He tastes like sin and salvation, a sinister gift straight from the fiery pits of hell, but his lips, his perfect goddamn lips, make me feel, in the purest of forms, like a fucking angel.

A deity. A goddess. A saint.

"Fuck—" A low groan rumbles in his chest as I sink my teeth into his bottom lip. Hard . "Kiara..."

I've activated him.

He yanks the satin robe off my shoulders, his possessive hands floating down my bare spine. He pulls me flush against his body, his erection pressing against my core. A moan tumbles from my lips.

"I will incinerate you, tesoro," he whispers across my lips, his breath like honey— succulent, sweet, fucking addictive.

"Do it…" Heat collects in my stomach, coursing through my needy veins, igniting a dormant desire that's screaming to be let out. "I dare you."

"Be careful what you wish for."

His hand grazes down my heaving chest, so light, so delicate, so agonizingly slow.

"Everything I touch turns to ash." His lips flutter against the soft shell of my ear. His hand pushes up my teddy, teasing the hem of my lace panties before sliding his fingers lower and lower and?—

Oh my God.

"Then burn me." I arch into his fingers as they coax open my slick folds. "Fucking burn me."

"You are not a phoenix, tesoro…" He flicks my sensitive nub, his left hand raking through my tangled hair. He tugs on my roots, forcing my eyes to meet his. My scalp throbs fr om the pain, the pleasure, the aggression in his touch. "You might not survive."

"You underestimate me." I bite my lip as I grind against his long thick fingers, hoping to create more friction, more movement, more pleasure.

"No, Kiara—" He drags his hand away from my pulsing clit. "You underestimate me ."

Keeping his hungry gaze locked on mine, he brings his hand to his lips, his tongue swirling around the glistening moisture on his fingertips. My heart batters my chest with need.

"Mmm, mia dolce ragazza ."

Bastard.

"No—" I drag my palm down the length of his lithe body, stopping at the waistband of his pants. My fingers slip under the thick fabric of his jeans, and I stroke his flesh, teasing him. With a smirk, I sink down on my knees, my heart racing as I unclip the top button and release his erection. His long, thick cock springs forward and I snake my fingers around the base of his shaft. "You really do underestimate me."

Milo cups my jaw, his thumb parting my lips, tilting my head to meet his darkened eyes.

"Kiara, there is no going back if you do this." His voice is gruff, hoarse, taunting. "You will be mine. Only mine. Do you understand?"

No going back.

It's a warning, a disclaimer. But I don't care. This is it. This is what I want.

Him.

"Yes," I whisper, panting with desire, with anticipation, with uncontrollable lust.

I flick my tongue against his tip, the salty flavor of pre- cum seeping into my taste buds, aching my core, making me hot, flush, confident .

His fingers rake through my hair as I drag my tongue across his silky throbbing cock, coating his length with my saliva. I surge forward, taking him in my mouth. His tip slams into the back of my throat, hitting my tonsils. My cheeks concave as I suck the fucking life out of him.

There's something exhilarating about having control over a man's most vulnerable body part. It's like I have all the power. I can make him jump, stop, rollover.

Twisting my hair around his wrist, Milo lets out a deep guttural groan, cursing under his breath, his dick tensing in my mouth.

"You like that?" I tilt my head to meet his hardened gaze. My hand slides up and down his shaft, my palm wet, sticky, my grip tight. "You like it when I suck your cock?"

" Fucking hell ," he growls as he lifts me to my feet, his savage lips slamming against mine. My teddy is ripped from my body, his jeans and shirt stripped off in seconds.

Milo grabs me, his fingers digging into the swells of my ass as he hoists me up, my legs wrapping around his waist. He carries me to the steel table, the cold metal sizzling my scolding hot skin as he settles between my legs.

I moan, sliding my hands over his shoulders as he plants open mouth kisses on the slope of my neck, my chin, my jaw.

I glide my fingers over his bandaged shoulder as his teeth graze my neck. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes," he groans, fondling my breasts, pinching my taut nipples. The pressure builds between my legs.

I press my thumb into the center of the wound, wanting him to feel some of the pain I've felt this week. "Good."

"You will pay for that, tesoro," Milo winces, the volatile gleam in his eyes sending a shiver down my spine as he pushes me back on the table and spreads my knees. His hands coil around the apex of my thighs as he sucks in a deep intoxicating breath.

A primal hunger dilates his pupils as he shreds my panties down the middle like a fucking caveman. He surges forward, his mouth latching onto my swollen clit. His fingers dip into my slickness and my back arches, my toes curling as his serpentine tongue devours me, claims me, makes me fucking scream.

And just as I'm close to exploding, he stops, smirking as he pulls away. I can almost see horns sprouting from his head.

"No," I whimper, resting on my forearms, my face flush, frustrated. "Why'd you stop?"

"Because this time, Kiara—" Milo licks his lips, soaking in every last naked, sweaty, tormented inch of my body. My ass squeaks against the metal as he yanks me off the table. I wrap my legs around his torso. "You are going to come on my cock."

We're surrounded by cement, guns, bullets, casings; everything filthy, dirty, deranged. Like us.

He presses me up against the wall, the tip of his cock rubbing against my clit as he palms my breasts. Desperation courses through my veins as his lips brush against mine.

"Fuck me." I claw his back with my nails, rolling my hips against his dick. The slab of textured concrete scratches my back. The earthy scent of debauchery fills my lungs.

Milo expels a low chuckle, nipping at the soft shell of my ear. "What was that?"

I lick the slope of his neck. "I said fuck me ."

His hand wraps around the base of my throat, the back of my head hitting the wall as my breath hitches. The brutality of his touch sets my skin on fucking fire.

"Again," he coaxes, his deep sinful voice making me drip down my thighs. "Tell me what you want."

I squirm, biting my lip as I cup my breasts, rolling my nipples between my fingers. "I want you to fuck me."

"One more time, tesoro," he rasps, his nostrils flaring as his grip tightens around my throat. "Say it."

"Fuck me," I beg, my voice breathy, hoarse, my clit pulsing, needing attention. Needing him . " Please ."

"Good girl," he smirks, taking his hard dick into his hand. He brushes the tip against my soaking folds, teasing me like a fucking criminal. "Is this want you want, tesoro?"

"Please…" I scratch his shoulders, his back, my body on the verge of imploding from discomfort.

Arching down to capture my mouth, he lines up and slowly rocks into me. My walls stretch around him as he fills me with every single inch of his throbbing cock.

"Fuck, Kiara." He slams his hips forward, my pussy clamping around his thickness as he thrusts deeper, harder.

Our tortured, trembling, titillating groans bounce off the goddamn walls as I cry out in relief, in pleasure, in agony, in motherfucking ecstasy.

He's relentless in his movements, an animal, a beast, a fucking creature of the underworld as he hammers me, obliterates me, drags me from heaven to hell and back again. I scream out his name, gripping his hair, his shoulders, the ridges of his biceps.

"Oh my god!" I cry, his thrusts so deep they shake my uterus, my kidneys, my fucking heart as I tighten around him, his cock pulsating inside me.

"Yes," he growls. My eyes roll back, my chest rising and falling, erratic, chaotic. "Come with me, tesoro. Let go. "

My legs tighten around his hips, my muscles spasming as we orgasm at the same fucking time. Our brutal moans hang in the muggy, sticky air. My sex drips with his cum, my body tired, sated, satisfied.

Milo rests his sweaty forehead against mine as I grip his shoulders for support. His shallow breaths fan against my lips. "You will be the death of me."

"What a wonderful way to die."

I catch my breath as he lowers me to the ground, my knees shaking as he steadies me. Milo dips down to pick up our clothes, holding out my robe as I absentmindedly slip it over my body.

"Can you walk?" He steps into his jeans and pulls them up. "Kiara?"

"Hmm?" I lean against the cold cement wall, my eyes unable to stay open, my body drained in the most wonderful way. "Okay."

A low chuckle slips from his lips. "Did you even hear what I asked you?"

"Me, walking, yes."

Without any warning, Milo scoops me up into his arms. "You need sleep."

"Are you going to stay with me?" I rest my head on his chest as he grabs the tan envelope off the table.

"Yes," he replies in a soft tone. "I will stay."

"Mmm," I hum breathlessly as he strides out of the range. "What's in the envelope?"

"Tomorrow." He rounds the corner. "I will show you tomorrow."

And if tomorrow never comes.

At least I got to experience heaven.