TWENTY EIGHT – AN ANGRY HELLION

MASON

I stare down at Mira as she curves into herself, wincing slightly as her reddened back side comes in contact with the silk bedsheets. Her dark hair is splayed all over the place, her skin is heated and flushed, her cheeks glow an incandescent red, and her lush lips all but beg me to devour them all over again.

I itch to run my fingers all over her soft skin once more, but I know she's tired. She mutters softly in her sleep. I cannot help but feel like I went too hard on her.

I was supposed to teach her, calmly ease and mould her to accept my sexual preferences, but that road went haywire the moment I laid eyes on her smooth, naked skin.

Ever since I escaped my father's clutches at the age of twenty six, I craved control. I fucking breathed control. Everything in my life is always properly planned, including my relationship with the Italian hellion before me.

The plan was to keep Mira in a safe, little box, where she would only be a part of my life at home. But one look at those