Free Mila (Heartbreaker #3) by Evan Grace Page A

With a strong grip, I grab Mila’s hair and, in jerky movements, thrust up into her mouth. Her moans and my heavy breathing are the only sounds I hear when I finally stop.
    I gently stroke the top of her head as she licks the head of my softening dick. Without even thinking, I grab Mila under her arms and move her so she’s lying on the coffee table. The sound of one of my wine glasses hitting the floor and shattering is all that can be heard. With both hands, I grab her jeans that are already undone and pull them down and off her body.
    She watches me with a heavy-lidded look and keeps watching as I spread her legs with my hands, licking her lips as I get closer and closer to her glistening folds. At the first swipe of my tongue, we moan in unison. Her juices are sweet, sticky, and spicy against my tongue. She grips my head and it hurts, but I’m getting off on that pain and my cock is again hard as a rock. With my thumbs, I spread her open, fucking her with my tongue.
    I move my tongue up to her clit, flicking it in and then sucking it into my mouth. “ Dio mio, Brian. You’re going to make me come.”
    The last bit of her sentence comes out as a moan. Her hands leave my head. She pulls up her shirt and starts squeezing her nipples. My fingers find their way inside of her and I begin to tap that rigged spot. Her moans turn to cries.
    Mila comes with a shout and her pussy contracts, trying to suck my fingers in deeper. She’s so beautiful when she comes. I could watch her do it over and over again.
    When she finally comes down, I stand up, grab her, and throw her over my shoulder.
    “Brian! What are you doing?” she squeals.
    I choose not to answer her and just carry her back to my bedroom, where I toss her on the bed and pounce.
     
    ***
     
    Before my eyes even open, I know she’s gone. Sure enough, when I slide my hand over to the other side of the bed, I find her spot cold. Overwhelming sadness hits me. I thought, after last night, we were getting somewhere, but apparently not.
    We made love twice last night—once, hard and fast, and then sweet and slow. When we finally crashed, she was wrapped around my body so tightly that I actually was smiling when I went to bed.
    Now? Now I don’t want to get out of bed and face the facts. I’m just not what she wants, and that hurts. Maybe it’s best that I just cut ties with her now. She’ll break my heart, and I honestly don’t think I could handle it. Why do I have to feel like there is something between us? Is it a crime to know what you want? I wear my heart on my sleeve and my friends have always given me shit about it since I was younger. Maybe it’s because I lost my parents so young. I’m sure a psychologist would have a heyday with me.
    There is no sense lying in bed, sulking all day. Instead of pouting, I climb out of bed and take a quick shower. When I’m done, I throw on a pair of jogging pants and a t-shirt. After making myself a quick breakfast, I mix up a protein shake to take to the studio with me. I need to spar in the worst way.
    Ten minutes later, I pull into the parking lot of my martial arts studio. I grab my bag out of the backseat and make my way inside. Javier gives me a chin lift as I walk by the women’s self-defense class he teaches. Since I’m going to spar, I throw on shorts and a muscle shirt instead of my ghee. Once I finish changing, I grab my gloves out of the bag and slam the door shut behind me.
    When I step out, I don’t see Tim by the sparring ring. I was really hoping that he and I could spar again. He certainly gave me a run for my money last time. Instead, I find Mike, a guy who I’ve trained with for the past couple of years. He’s a total douche bag and thinks he’s tough shit, so I’m sure it’ll feel good to knock him around a bit.
    “Hey, Mike. Do you want to spar?”
    He stops punching the bag and turns to me. “Yeah, sure.”
    Javier comes over and helps me get my gloves on.
    Mike and I slap gloves and begin