Page 2 of Cry Madness
My brows shoot up. “A story?”
Nodding, he begins, “Once upon a time, there was a lonely and bitter little boy who lost everything the day his parents died. This little boy began having manic thoughts buzzing around inside his head. Jumbled thoughts. Loud thoughts. Dangerous thoughts. These thoughts drove the little boy crazy, making him want to do even crazier things—sometimes terrible things, which Roman McQueen has always used to his benefit. But one day, a little girl arrived like a ray of sunshine, wearing a whimsical blue dress with a floppy bow right here.” He taps the space below my collarbone. “From that day forward, the little boy did his best to be a good person for the little girl.” He brushes the tip of his nose over mine, and I struggle against the urge to melt into him. “I mess up a lot, Alice, and I’m no Prince Charming, but I always strive to be my best self. For you. Only for you.”
I didn’t think I could love Maddox more, but his story proved me wrong.
I also know it wasn’t easy for him after he lost his parents in that fire. He was only six when it happened and was immediately brought to Horizons, the orphanage owned by RomanMcQueen. On the surface, it’s a haven for abandoned boys. Dig deeper, and the truth bleeds out—that Roman handpicks those five children to mold into soldiers in his relentless quest to maintain his hold on Wonderland.
Maddox, eighteen now, is Roman’s most prized weapon.
“You don’t have to be better.” I lift onto my tiptoes to feather a kiss across his lips. “You’re perfectly imperfect exactly as you are.”
He thrusts his hips forward to grind his hard length against me. “Thank God you think so.”
I’m breathless, those butterflies beating their wings wildly in my belly as he slowly slides the straps down my arms. His fingers graze my skin, and I part my lips with a soft sigh when he bares my breasts. No one has ever seen me naked, but it doesn’t even enter my mind to be embarrassed. Not with him, and when I kick off my sandals and let the dress pool at my feet, I’m standing there in only underwear as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Oh God, Alice,” he breathes. “You’re fucking beautiful.” His gaze scorches me as he runs a single finger along the elastic of my hideously plain white panties. “Let me take these off, yes?”
With a stilted nod, I whisper, “Yes.”
He pushes my underwear down my legs, and again, embarrassment stays tucked away inside a little box at the back of my mind. I watch in amazed silence when his fingers fumble with the button of his black, baggy cargo pants. “You make my hands shake,” he mutters, struggling with the zipper.
That’s the nicest compliment he’s ever given me.
I stop him, placing my hands over his. “I’ll do it.”
As I carefully remove the gold watch from Maddox’s front pocket, he allows his arms to fall to his sides and fixes his unwavering gaze on me. I delicately place the timepiece on theground, watching with a mix of curiosity and awe as he removes his top hat, exquisite military-inspired brocade waistcoat, and boots. He lifts a brow, and the arrogance etched all over his beautiful face makes me want to meet the challenge in his eyes. But my fingers tremble, fumbling as I pop open the buttons of his pants…
…only for me to gasp again—this time in surprise. “You’re pierced!”
“Am I?” Feigning shock, he looks down at the silver barbell speared through the head of hisverylong andverythick penis. “Holy shit.”
I roll my eyes and give him a playful punch to the chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugs. “Don’t know. Guess I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Oh, I’m surprised, alright,” I admit. “Did it hurt?”
“Like a motherfucker,” he confesses with a gruff laugh.
I chew the inside of my mouth a second before asking, “Can I… Can I touch it?”
His sexy smirk damn near ruins me. “Yeah, I’m yours. You can do whatever you want to me, Alice.”
Good Lord…
Those words send a delicious rush through me. I’ve never felt as alive, so aware of…everything.Of him. I reach out with a mix of hesitation and curiosity, amazed by how he truly is a living work of art. His skin feels warm and tightly stretched over taut muscle that flexes gently under my touch, and as I glide my hand lower, I can feel his well-defined abdominals tensing beneath my palm.
“Keep going,” he rasps, and when I take him in my hand, his moan sends a thrill skidding up my spine.
This most intimate part of him feels…odd. Silky and smooth, yet hard as steel. He hisses when I run my fingers overthe metal barbell. I leap back, rushing out an apology. “Sorry. Oh, God, Maddox, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t.” His assurance is a broken rasp. “It’s a glans ampallang piercing, in case you’re wondering, and if you keep playing with it, this won’t last long.”
Curious about the intricacies of the piercing, I ignore his warning and go right back to playing with it, relishing how he squirms when I stroke him and tug on the jewelry. The hoarse sounds he’s making encourage me as I slide my palm up and down his rigid shaft.
But he puts a swift end to my fun by grabbing my wrist. “Stop,” he groans. “I can’t. It’s too much right now.” His hands tremble when he reaches for me. “I’ve waited all my life for this. For you.”
The more he kisses me, the more my mind tangles in knots and my body ignites. I inhale sharply as he gently cups my breasts, his calloused palms brushing against my skin. He flicks and pinches my nipples, turning them to painful peaks. Licks them. Sucks them. His hands are all over me, skating over my fevered flesh. His fingers move lower, teasing their way down my abdomen. When he kneels, his lips tickle me as he teases me with gentle kisses and playful nips. I try to pull him back to his feet. Try to get him to stop because now—now—I’m embarrassed.