Chapter 19
NINETEEN
M ilo jolts back, his brows creasing together as he thinks about what I just asked him. “A mole?”
I watch his reaction, the calmness, the certainty, the lack of shock.
“No, Vee. I’m no mole.”
“Then what were you doing at the docks the other night? Why were you at Roman’s fight night?”
“I already told you,” he sighs. I can hear the boredom in his tone, like he’s already done with this conversation, but I’m not. Something doesn’t add up, and I don’t fully believe him. Without concrete proof, though, I’ve got nothing to go on but my intuition.
“Is that what you really came for?” he questions, his calculated gaze surveying me. There’s no denying the heat in his eyes, the way they tour my body.
“No. I came here to tell you the docks are yours.” I fold my arms across my chest, pinning him with a glare. “But if you don’t wa?—”
Milo lunges forward, gripping the back of my neck. His hot breath lingers over my lips, teasing and taunting me.
“What’re you doing?” I whisper through my restraint. It’d be so easy to ignore the voice in the back of my mind, the one still questioning who Milo really is, but I know there’s something he’s not telling me.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he replies, his voice husky. His hands slide down to my slacks, reaching for my belt. It’s not exactly what I meant, but my dick is so fucking hard for him that all sensibility flies out the window.
My lips crash onto his, kissing and sucking his bottom lip into my mouth. He groans as his hands make quick work at undoing my belt, the metal clinking as he tugs me towards his body. His tongue slides between my lips, exploring my mouth while his hands move to my shirt, undoing each button. My skin burns hot, my breaths matching my core temperature. I tear away his shirt, ignoring the buttons that ping to the floor. The fervent need to touch him is unbearable, so much so that I trace my tongue over the smooth skin of his chest.
“Fuck,” he growls, one hand gripping my hair. Pain spreads across my scalp, but the pleasure I’m feeling as he rubs my cock beneath my slacks chases the ache away. He spreads rough kisses along my jawline, down my throat and across my chest, sucking hard when he meets a space between my tattoos, right next to where my family name is inked in my flesh.
The anticipation is too much. I need to be inside him. I need to feel him. Stumbling towards the couch by the far wall, I shove him backwards. His body lands with a thud against the leather, his hips lifting as he adjusts himself. His eyes widen with anticipation as I crawl over him, smashing my lips against his once more.
Tugging at my slacks, I stand and let them fall to the floor. He leans forward from his position on the couch, taking my dick in his hand and pumping it a few times. He wraps his lips around the tip, swallowing me while I throw my head back and thrust to the back of his throat. Being in his mouth and his ass is incomparable. Both feel so fucking good that I could stay like this forever. I’m so fucked.
Milo pops off, licking his lips as he continues to jerk me in his hand. Pushing him backwards, I pull his pants down his thighs, his cock springing free with excitement. The tip glistens with pre-cum, eagerly waiting for me. Falling to my knees, I stroke his length into my mouth, a relishing gasp parting Milo’s lips. I don’t know how he looks so fucking sexy, even when I’m the one on my knees, but he does. His pale skin is a stark contrast against his features, his bare chest rising and falling as I take him deeper in my mouth. His eyes are closed, but the way he bites down on his lip is all kinds of sexy. I want to bite it myself. I want to taste him. I want to revel in the way he bleeds for me.
Leaning up, I grab his throat and bring him to my level. “I hate you for making me want you.” The truth slips past my lips, and Milo smirks. But before he can come out with any response to my fleeting vulnerability, I slam my lips onto his. He moans, and the simple sound has me aching to be inside him, because I remember exactly how he felt as I sank into him. The shudder he released, the noises— fuck , the noises. I want to hear them again, on repeat. But I’d never tell him that.
Warring with my own emotions, I realize I’ve been staring at him. He tilts his head in silent curiosity, and I grab his hips and twist him over. I don’t want him to look at me. I feel like he can see right through my anger, and that just can’t happen. He grips the couch as I lean over him, his ass ready and waiting.
Fuck.
I fist my cock, spitting on the tip and spreading it over his back hole. It’ll have to do, since I don’t make a habit of carrying lube with me everywhere. An impatient groan fills the room as I push forward. Fuck foreplay, I just want to be inside him, feel his tight ass take me until I lose myself.
Milo reaches back, grabbing my hand and bringing it to his throbbing cock. I slide my fist up and down the shaft, matching each of my slow thrusts as I sink deeper and deeper into his ass. When I’m fully seated, I dig my teeth into Milo’s shoulder, relishing the way he feels around me; so fucking tight. His breaths are shallow, anticipating everything I’m about to give him.
Gripping his hips, I pull out, and slam back into him. His body shudders, and like the asshole that I am, I sink my teeth further into the flesh between his neck and shoulder, the coppery tang of blood slipping over my tongue. “Fuck yourself, Kyrovsky,” I command as I lick my lips. “Show me what I do to you.”
He obeys, his hand jerking over his swollen cock. I grip him by the back of his head, tilting it back so I can share in the delight of having him bent over for me. He doesn’t protest with how rough I’m being, and that just makes this shit harder because he’s a goddamn drug; the poison my body craves because it doesn’t know what’s good for it. Milo isn’t good for me. He’s everything wrong, but I can’t tear myself away.
Spearing forward, I feel his ass clench around me, his stuttered breaths telling me he’s close. I drive into him with more force, feeling my balls tighten as heat swirls around my head. I grab a handful of his ass just as I pull out, spurting ribbons of cum all over his ass. My vision dances with blurry spots, but seeing my mark all over him fills me with the kind of satisfaction I didn’t realize it could.
I spin Milo around and pin him to the couch, knowing that he’s covered in my cum. Sinking to my knees, I wrap my mouth around the thick silky head of his cock, pumping him with fervent strokes.
“Fuck, Vee!” Milo rasps, his hand gripping strands of my hair as he drives his hips upward. He holds me still for a second, my lips touching the base. His abs tense up, his breaths coming out broken as he pulls me away.
“Are you gonna come for me, Milo?” I grin up at him, my hand stroking his length faster and faster.
“Vee,” he moans, throwing his head back. His eyes close and he bites down on his motherfucking lip again. Another broken moan fills the silence like a symphony to his own undoing, and then he comes all over his stomach. Hot streams paint his skin, and I watch him collapse against the worn leather, reveling in his own ecstasy.
“Fuck,” he pants, running a hand through his just-fucked hair, grinning down at me. I move to the other side of the couch, reaching for my smokes in my jacket.
“Not bad for a Russian,” I remark, lighting up a cigarette.
“I told you,” he winks, still trying to catch his breath. “Should have fucked me sooner.”
I chuckle at that. It’s amazing how much lighter I feel now. Now that I’ve released some of my anger; anger I feel for the very guy I just fucked. Jesus, when did my life become such a mess?
For a few minutes, we just sit in silence, shirts open, slacks undone. If anybody heard us, they haven’t come looking. Maybe I didn’t fuck him hard enough, I muse as I stub out my cigarette in a nearby ashtray.
Milo rolls his neck side to side, his hand rubbing over the mark I left. “Fuck, Vee. You bit me!”
“Yeah,” I shrug, not really caring. “You gave me a fucking love bite.” I point to where a bright purple bruise sits next to my tattoo.
“Just leaving my mark,” he mutters, eyes narrowed on it. I try not to read into that—I don’t know what thoughts cross his wicked mind. But the visual of his teeth clamping down on his bottom lip has me leaning forward to take it.
I kiss him tentatively at first, because I don’t think there’s even been a moment where we’re not rough or trying to inflict pain. Milo cups the back of my neck, bringing me closer until I’m on top of him, our mouths never breaking apart. His tongue snakes with mine, heat crawling up my spine as we deepen the kiss. It almost feels normal to be making out like this, like we’re not enemies. Like we shouldn’t be trying to kill each other. But normalcy will never be a thing for us.
When we finally break the kiss, there’s a pink flush on Milo’s cheeks, but his eyes are darker than ever.
“Who are you, Milo Kyrovsky?”
He chuckles, shoving me sideways on the couch as he pulls up his pants. I do the same while he uses his torn shirt to wipe his stomach. “I’m just a means to an end.”
Huh?
Milo pauses. With his back to me, I can’t see his expression, but I’m certain he’s probably berating himself for that slip-up. That’s definitely not what I expected him to say. It stirs up the emotional pot I set at the back of my mind, behind the wall I built. I only have to remember what we are to one another for me to question my earlier thoughts.
“Forget I said that,” he says, turning around to face me. His jaw feathers with tension as he closes the distance. “I’m not who you think I am.”
“You mean a mole?” I smirk.
I only gain a subtle nod in response. No witty remark or insult. As much as I’d love to forget what he just said, the thought is niggling in the back of mind. I stand, leveling Milo with a glare. “I’ll ask you one last time, Milo.” We’re close now, close enough to touch, yet I keep my hands in my pockets. “Are you the mole?”
Raising a brow, he shakes his head. “No.”
I’m not entirely convinced, but then again, even if he told me the truth, I probably wouldn’t know. Stepping towards the door, I reach for the handle.
“Bonanno.”
I pause.
“The docks?”
“Don’t hold your breath.”