Page 3 of Cry Madness
Good Lord, his face is right there.
Close enough for me to feel his exhale against my pussy.
“Let me love you, Malice.”
In all my life, I’ve never felt more cherished. Here. In our private place, we are blissfully isolated from everything and everyone.
Here, we’re safe to be ourselves, and I’m…free.
At my nod, he instructs me to open my legs, and I do, inching them apart, making room for him to slide between them. Thefirst touch of his tongue pulls a broken cry from me. His mouth is warm, wet, and wonderful as he feasts on me. My legs go so weak, I drop to my knees, laughing at his frown.
“I was just getting started.”
“What did you tell me before?” Frowning, I tap my temple. “Oh, that’s right, it was too much. Well, sweetheart, the same goes for me.” I kiss him, long and passionately, tasting myself on his tongue, before whispering against his lips, “You make me feel too good.”
“Malice,” he drawls. “I haven’t begun to make you feel good.”
He lays me on the chessboard, on the small mound of our clothes. Then he climbs atop me, his weight comforting, the strength of his body overwhelming. He kisses me, rough and deep. Presses his hips into me, rubbing the hard length of himself between my slick pussy lips. Groaning, I thrust up to meet the grind, needing more.
I yearn for him to alleviate the excruciating pressure pulsing through my legs.
When he nips my bottom lip, I reach around to smack his ass. “Ow, that hurt.”
“Good,” he retorts with an evil grin. “Pain reminds you that you’re alive.” Weird reasoning, but okay. He drags his tongue along my lip to soothe the sting. “You taste like Heaven.”
I lean up to kiss the side of his neck. “You taste like sin.”
“Damn right.” The low rumble of his voice slides over me like warm water. “I want to make you so fucking dirty, Alice. I want you filthy, like me.”
“Do it,” I taunt. “I dare you.”
Who the hell am I right now?
I am not the timid Alice who has consistently chosen to remain in the background. I’m a stranger tonight, and whenMaddoxtsksme, every nerve in my body buzzes with need. “Don’t you know it’s foolish to tempt the devil?” He drags his cheek over mine. Teases the upper shell with the tip of his tongue before whispering, “That’s how you lose your soul.”
What’s the use of having a soul if keeping it means never experiencing this again?
As an artist, I paint with a palette of vivid hues, creating kaleidoscopes of vibrant color. I realize now that every stroke of my brush across the canvas wasthis momentbecause Maddox’s kiss and touch are exactly what I imagined being drenched in those brilliant colors.
When I lay my palm against Maddox’s cheek, all that pent-up energy pulsing within him seems to flow into me. “My soul has always belonged to you,” I confess in a nervous, breathless hush to the boy I’ve loved since I was seven.
“You’re the most precious gift I’ve ever been given.” He closes his eyes—just for a moment—and when he reopens them, he says with a sigh, “God, I’m going to ruin you.”
Timid Alice would run away, terrified.
Courageous Alice wraps her legs around Maddox’s trim waist to lock him in. To draw him closer. “I’m not a gift, Maddox, and I’m tougher than you think.”
“Always so fucking feisty.” He notches his pierced head at my entrance but doesn’t push his way inside. Not yet. “Shall we test your conviction?”
With a resolute nod, I squeeze my eyes shut because I’m a virgin, and he’s enormous, and I brace for the pain.
“Open your eyes, Malice,” Maddox coaxes me, and when I do, all I see is him. My Maddox, studying me. “It’s okay. You’re with me.”
I’m with him.
Those three simple words are everything.
He buries his face in my neck and asks, “Trust me, yes?”