Page 29
Story: Mad Love
12
Blaise
After we showered in separate bathrooms, I wait for Maddox in my bedroom.
I would never move this fast with a man, but Maddox isn’t any man; he’s my husband. And I’ve changed my mind. I want his body.
When he’s in the city, I’ll entice him into my bed. He’ll be so satisfied sexually, he’ll forget other women.
Shutting out thoughts that an innocent and peculiar woman could never tie down a man who loves the women as much as they love him, I do what turns him on. I crook my finger and demand he come to me.
It’s a side of me I don’t indulge in. My overconfidence and fearlessness are what had me wandering down an alleyway I shouldn’t have taken. I also shouldn’t have mouthed off to my kidnapper. It’s the reason he put me in that coffin. To scare the confidence from me.
Thinking these morbid thoughts isn’t helping me convince my husband I’m the only woman for him. I mentally tell memories of my time with my kidnapper to take a hike. Otherwise, how could I seduce the cocky and domineering Maddox Stassi?
He comes to me fully clothed.
I quirk a brow. He raises his own.
“You’re dressed,” I point out.
“Are you not?”
I shake my head.
He smiles. “Well, damn. I better rectify that quick.”
He does a strip tease, this agonizing pace that heats me from the inside out. First, he undoes the buttons on his PJ top one at a time. Chiseled chest. Dark hair. Sinful strip of hair disappearing under the waistband of his pajama bottoms. I lick my lips. Press the satin into the wetness between my legs. He watches my every movement. Groans when I stroke myself through the sheet.
“Do that often, babe?”
Babe. Baby. I like them better than darling.
Too turned on to speak, I nod. He comes closer but doesn’t lose the PJ bottoms that hang loose on his hips, giving me a mouthwatering view of his V-cut. My gaze dips lower and lingers on the outline of his erection. Maddox tsks.
“Patience.”
His voice is low, raspy. My sex throbs. My nipples tighten. My breasts grow heavy. I raise my arm under the sheet and reach for him. Maddox caresses up and down my arm over the sheet. Skims his fingers over mine. I tremble. Moan with longing. Whimper with need.
“The noises you make. Jesus, Blaise, you’re sexy as fuck.”
Maddox gets on the bed and keeps his weight off me with his arms resting alongside my head.
Careful to not touch him, I slide my fingers under my hair and fan the strands out over the pillow. He takes the hint and sifts his fingers through the inky strands. Dark pieces of his fall over his eye, and I long to grasp the errant pieces between my fingers and press my lips to them. His damp hair would be like touching a blade of grass lined with dew from early morning.
With his thick fingers in my hair, he lowers his hips onto mine. I gather the satin sheet in my hands and grasp his hips through the material. He is solid. Layers upon layers of muscle. Needing more wiggle room than the sheet can give me, I reach under my pillow, find the gloves I’ve hidden there, and slip them on.
I cup Maddox’s face. Strum my thumb over the sharp edge of his cheek. His kind of handsomeness and sexiness isn’t soft lines and curves. Maddox’s face is a contrast of edgy lines and sharp edges. I find his granite bone structure fascinating and enviable. How can a man have stern features and be so mouthwatering?
Using the flat side of my palm, I caress along his jawline. He closes his eyes and takes a shuddering breath. My touch did that? Gave him the expression of longing? Needing to make him feel as good as he’s making me feel with the bulge between his legs nestling in my heat, I glide my gloved fingers over his shoulders.
“Hold my hand, Maddox.”
He untangles his fingers from my hair, brings his hands low, and interlaces our fingers. His thick fingers stroking my small ones, his groan reverberating on my chest through the satin, how his thickness pulses along my folds . . . I tighten my hold on his hands, and lifting my head, I claim his mouth with mine.
He opens for me and swallows my whimper and moan with his devouring kisses, taking me to new heights with his demanding mouth and how sweet he tastes. I need more. God, I need to feel his strength and the heat from his body.
Using the sheet, I lift my legs and wrap them around his waist.
Blaise
After we showered in separate bathrooms, I wait for Maddox in my bedroom.
I would never move this fast with a man, but Maddox isn’t any man; he’s my husband. And I’ve changed my mind. I want his body.
When he’s in the city, I’ll entice him into my bed. He’ll be so satisfied sexually, he’ll forget other women.
Shutting out thoughts that an innocent and peculiar woman could never tie down a man who loves the women as much as they love him, I do what turns him on. I crook my finger and demand he come to me.
It’s a side of me I don’t indulge in. My overconfidence and fearlessness are what had me wandering down an alleyway I shouldn’t have taken. I also shouldn’t have mouthed off to my kidnapper. It’s the reason he put me in that coffin. To scare the confidence from me.
Thinking these morbid thoughts isn’t helping me convince my husband I’m the only woman for him. I mentally tell memories of my time with my kidnapper to take a hike. Otherwise, how could I seduce the cocky and domineering Maddox Stassi?
He comes to me fully clothed.
I quirk a brow. He raises his own.
“You’re dressed,” I point out.
“Are you not?”
I shake my head.
He smiles. “Well, damn. I better rectify that quick.”
He does a strip tease, this agonizing pace that heats me from the inside out. First, he undoes the buttons on his PJ top one at a time. Chiseled chest. Dark hair. Sinful strip of hair disappearing under the waistband of his pajama bottoms. I lick my lips. Press the satin into the wetness between my legs. He watches my every movement. Groans when I stroke myself through the sheet.
“Do that often, babe?”
Babe. Baby. I like them better than darling.
Too turned on to speak, I nod. He comes closer but doesn’t lose the PJ bottoms that hang loose on his hips, giving me a mouthwatering view of his V-cut. My gaze dips lower and lingers on the outline of his erection. Maddox tsks.
“Patience.”
His voice is low, raspy. My sex throbs. My nipples tighten. My breasts grow heavy. I raise my arm under the sheet and reach for him. Maddox caresses up and down my arm over the sheet. Skims his fingers over mine. I tremble. Moan with longing. Whimper with need.
“The noises you make. Jesus, Blaise, you’re sexy as fuck.”
Maddox gets on the bed and keeps his weight off me with his arms resting alongside my head.
Careful to not touch him, I slide my fingers under my hair and fan the strands out over the pillow. He takes the hint and sifts his fingers through the inky strands. Dark pieces of his fall over his eye, and I long to grasp the errant pieces between my fingers and press my lips to them. His damp hair would be like touching a blade of grass lined with dew from early morning.
With his thick fingers in my hair, he lowers his hips onto mine. I gather the satin sheet in my hands and grasp his hips through the material. He is solid. Layers upon layers of muscle. Needing more wiggle room than the sheet can give me, I reach under my pillow, find the gloves I’ve hidden there, and slip them on.
I cup Maddox’s face. Strum my thumb over the sharp edge of his cheek. His kind of handsomeness and sexiness isn’t soft lines and curves. Maddox’s face is a contrast of edgy lines and sharp edges. I find his granite bone structure fascinating and enviable. How can a man have stern features and be so mouthwatering?
Using the flat side of my palm, I caress along his jawline. He closes his eyes and takes a shuddering breath. My touch did that? Gave him the expression of longing? Needing to make him feel as good as he’s making me feel with the bulge between his legs nestling in my heat, I glide my gloved fingers over his shoulders.
“Hold my hand, Maddox.”
He untangles his fingers from my hair, brings his hands low, and interlaces our fingers. His thick fingers stroking my small ones, his groan reverberating on my chest through the satin, how his thickness pulses along my folds . . . I tighten my hold on his hands, and lifting my head, I claim his mouth with mine.
He opens for me and swallows my whimper and moan with his devouring kisses, taking me to new heights with his demanding mouth and how sweet he tastes. I need more. God, I need to feel his strength and the heat from his body.
Using the sheet, I lift my legs and wrap them around his waist.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106