Love means self-sacrifice.
Love means self-sacrifice. contemporary stories

olgagoa A Dark Romance Writer;
Autoplay OFF   •   3 years ago
Love is not only romantic encounters, wild dancing under the moon, grooming and gifts.

What secret Milano will tell Veronica?

Love means self-sacrifice.


Opening the room, Milano entered it with his burden on the shoulder and threw her onto the bed. He slammed the door with such force that it almost fell off the hinges.

“Do you still choose to be with a monster?” Milano transfixed Veronica with a piercing glance, draining his bottle of rum. Veronica stared at him anxiously.

“I won’t have sex with you while you are drunk so wildly!”

“What makes you presume that I hunger to have sex with you?”

That hit Veronica like a bat on the head. Did Milano really say that? Maybe she was wrong, and this was his twin. Or maybe Milano lost interest in her.

But why did he bring her into his room then?

“As you pointed out, I’m drunk,” he muttered indistinctly. “And I don’t have sex while I’m drunk. Is it clear?”

“Of course,” Veronica hemmed. “Then why did you drag me here?”

“To talk. I don’t like it when my drunken bullshit is listened to by passers-by in the street.”

“I wonder what bullshit it is,” she issued coquettishly, reclining on the large bed.

“About my personal life.” Milano was disgusted by his past and didn’t wish to dwell on it. This was better for him.

Veronica became as tight as a string. Milano intends to confess to me, and I behaved like a complete idiot! If he is telling me something, it is something serious. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be alone in a hotel room.

“Tell me. I’m listening.” She sat on the edge of the soft bed, focusing her attention on him.

“It’s a long conversation. Can I get you some tea or coffee?” Milano offered Veronica. “I just want to know whether you will stay or go after you get to know everything.”

“I will stay in any case,” she informed him affirmatively.

“We’ll see.” He grinned, not believing that Veronica would understand everything correctly. “So what would you like, Veronica—green or black tea?”

“Black; weak, please.”

Milano went to the kitchen quickly, which was provided only for expensive apartments. He switched on an electric kettle.

He pulled out a jar of nosey tea and brewed coffee in a coffee maker simultaneously. Veronica was pleasantly surprised.

“Can I help you?” Veronica queried, viewing at the beautiful gilded pattern in Rococo style at the ceiling. “If you need—”

“I don’t,” Milano snapped at her firmly, entering the large room and taking off his jacket. He rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, ignoring Veronica’s gaze.

Even in such a casual style, he was breathtakingly sexy. Her insides tightened with desire and her breasts suffused like a ripe apple.

Veronica began to understand the language of her own body, which Milano had told her about before.

She let out a little laugh, remembering how she hadn’t believed what he had harped on a week before.

“Why are you laughing?” Milano stared at Veronica, suspicious.

“Do you always watch me so closely or only occasionally?” Veronica inquired with a smile, fixing her eyes on his serious face.

“Just answer my question without trying to escape from replying!”

“You were right…about…” Veronica began to stammer. “How should I explain?”

“You don’t have to explain it to me.” Milano covered the distance between them in two steps, seducing Veronica with his eyes. “I could tell it from your body.”

He went on to run his fingers over her round breasts. He laughed at the fact that he already knew the desires of the dazzling, defiant girl.

“Stop doing that,” Veronica chided Milano in a hoarse voice, not expecting that she would give up so soon.

“Why?” he smirked triumphantly, satisfied. “You’re excited. I can feed your hunger.”


“Yes. But I’m still not sober enough,” Milano replied.

Veronica posed the question, “Then why are you doing this?”

He chuckled. “I wanted to make sure you were thinking about the same thing that I was.”

“Now you know I am. I’ve become as dissolute as you!”

“I like it.” Milano smiled. “I desire to seduce my angel and find out how the angel and the demon would live under the same roof.”

“Why are you taunting me?” she spoke resentfully.

Milano capably used various tricks to make her less protected against his fascinating forces.

His eyebrows soared in surprise. “Taunting you? What are you talking about?”

“You turn me on with your words and touches.”

“I can satisfy you in other way,” Milano said. “We could have oral sex.”

“I don’t know what that is,” Veronica returned without hesitation.

“Don’t you? Have you forgotten how I fondled you during our first meeting?”

“With your tongue?” She blushed.

Milano smiled, throwing his hands around her waist. “You remember.”

“At that time, I was relaxed because you were leading me. But now…”

“Now, you will be the same too. You’re just modest; too modest.” Milano cocked his head, looking into Veronica’s honest eyes.

“Go to hell! If you don’t like my modesty, you should find some brave women here or in your town. There are plenty of girls ready to delight you!”

“Nike, I don’t need anybody else,” Milano avouched. “And your modesty is what I love the most about you. That is why you attract me. Don’t you understand?”

“And I don’t want only one half of you,” Veronica barked, “I must have all of you, from head to toe.”

“So, aren’t you going to share me with anybody else?” Milano smirked.

“With no-one!”

“Don’t be so mad, little berry,” he calmed her, massaging her tense shoulder.

“The water has already boiled, and I suppose that coffee is ready,” Veronica grumbled at him, seeing that he had begun a new stage of his seduction and she must hold down his attack.

“I’m going. If I satisfy you now, you won’t be able to drink even a cup.” Milano laughed, knowing that after his teasing, Veronica would start to purse her small and seductive mouth. And then, she did just that.

Returning from the kitchen, Milano couldn’t get enough of Veronica. She reminded him of a queen under the silk baldachin, sitting on the bed and drinking her fragrant tea.

He could just look at her till the end of time, but he needed to speak up. The sadness of the past was demolishing him. He could no longer withstand the load pulling him into the dungeon of hell.

Sitting in the armchair, Milano sipped his coffee and started his long story, which had already begun to cause him heartache.

He filled her in about all of his past—how his parents had left him to fend for himself, how he had lost his virginity to the Italian woman who was far older than he was, how he had fallen madly in love with her, to only end up getting his heart shattered by her.

“She killed everything good in my soul. She destroyed my faith in women. She destroyed my dreams. And I loved her,” Milano spoke in a steel voice.

Veronica could feel what was happening in Milano’s soul. He was totally exhausted and didn’t wish any feelings in his life. “And you decided to take revenge on all women?”

“And I did,” he sighed sorrowfully, looking into his cup of lukewarm coffee. “I’ve been avenging my broken heart, up to this day because I don’t believe any woman.”

“You can’t say for sure that she loved you. Don’t think about something that is really not true. That woman took advantage of you shamelessly.”

Milano’s heart sank. Maybe Veronica was right, just like his brother and that Italian woman didn’t love him at all and just threw him out her life like a woman threw out her old trinket.

Milano continued their somber conversation. “She broke my heart.”

“And you’re saying that you have no heart now?” Veronica was chagrined. She saw that her man didn’t follow his own emotions. He wished to call it a day.

“I don’t. That’s why I’m asking you, Nike. Do you really wish to stay with me after what I’ve told you? In fact, I opened up my soul to you, although only Lucenzo should know my secret...

Even my parents don’t know what was happening to me all these years.”

“About your innermost secret, I won’t tell anyone. So really, I mustn’t hope that you’ll love me someday?”

“You mustn’t. I don’t believe in love anymore.”

There were tears in Veronica’s eyes. Was Milano really the one saying all this? Milano, who cared for her on the first day of their meeting when Veronica got that heatstroke.

Milano, who carried her to the cottage in his arms… How should she understand that? Wasn’t that love? Maybe he didn’t know what love was and couldn’t recognize it.

Nevertheless, Milano was right about one thing. Love was not only romantic encounters, wild dancing under the moon, grooming and gifts.

Love is about understanding someone’s soul, the adoption of his desires. Love is faith in him, caring about him and helping at any moment.

Love is the realization that you are going to live with that person for all his life, accepting all his behavior and character, regardless of how negative they could appear.

Love means self-sacrifice.

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