Page 50 of Cry Madness
My muscles pull taut, my body is a bowstring, ready to snap at the slightest pluck of Maddox’s fingers. That incredible tension builds higher, with a wonderful wave of warmth and wet rushing to meet each furious thrust of his finger. The tip of his tongue teases my clit, the torturous flick pushing me over the edge.
“Oh, God,” I breathe.
My hips shoot off the bed. I grind against his lips, shattering into a million pieces, when he adds a second finger inside me. He gives me no mercy, and it takes everything I have to stay quiet. To hold back the cries trapped in my throat lest my mother and Harrison hear me. In desperation, I tug his hair. Damn near rip it out at the roots. He groans in ecstasy, reminding me he likes it when it hurts. But it’s when his hand leaves my leg and when I hear the faint sound of his zipper that I can’t stop the whimper that escapes past my lips.
Oh, God…
“Maddox,” I rasp.
“Shhh, Malice, I got you, sweetheart. You’re okay.”
Magic words.
I am okay.
He has me.
As I plummet off the cliff, Maddox is there to catch me, keeping me safe as I tumble into the abyss. Only once my feet touch solid ground does he climb up my body. He’s already shed his shoes and pants, and as he peels off his shirt, I marvel at the artwork decorating his skin—an intricate tapestry of tattoos. Evil skulls, intertwined snakes, and two chess pieces—a white knight and a blackking.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a lazy smile on his lips. “That’s you and me,” he says, pointing to the chess pieces.
Because we’d play the game in the maze when we were kids.
Everything about him always goes back to us.
He and I, and the memories we made together.
I press my hand to the tattoo. “We, us two,” I whisper, because that’s how we’d refer to each other.
“We, us two,” he repeats.
And then he kisses me, and I taste myself on his tongue. I wrap my arms around him to hug him close, close enough for his frantic heartbeat to slam against my chest. He fits himself between my legs, his body big and warm and unyielding. The tip of his pierced cock presses against me, and I hold my breath, waiting for the invasion, for the pain, because it’s been three years. It’s been three years since the one time I had sex.
But the pain doesn’t come.
Instead, it’s a slow slide that stretches me so good. The metal barbell glides against my drenched walls, an added pleasure that has me scoring my nails across Maddox’s back. His kiss is divine, and when I move lower to grab his ass, he punches his hips, slamming into me. My gasp fills his mouth, and I swallow his growl as he rocks into me again and again and again…
Until every muscle strains all over again. Until a new, delicious ache builds deep inside me. Each drive of his hips, each slam of his cock, lifts me higher. So high, I’m flying. I want to stay here forever, suspended in this warmth, in the peaceful space where nothing matters but Maddox and me.
In this absolute ecstasy.
But, like all good things, it ends.
The crash comes, and one more drive of Maddox’s hips shoves me back over the cliff. And this time, when I drop, he’s there with me. We’re falling into the darkness together…
Landing in a tangle of two bodies wrapped up in a pink blanket.
With a giggle, I sit up and untie us from the comforter.
But I’m not a giggler. Yet here I am, hand clamped over my mouth, body trembling, laughing hard enough to make my eyes tear.
Is this sex aftershock?
Has to be.
Poor Maddox, lying beside me, looks all sorts of confused. This makes me giggle harder. “Sorry,” I mumble behind my hand.
“Should I be insulted?”