Page 51 of Cry Madness

“No! Oh, God, no.” I gesture down my sweaty body. “Aftershock.”

“Ah, okay. Nice to know I bring the goods.”

I yank on my shirt because, unlike Maddox, naked as you please, I’m not nearly as comfortable with nudity. “That was intense.”

“Yeah, it was.”

But must he look so fucking smug?

“That was more than a kiss,” I point out.

He closes his eyes and throws an arm over his face, looking hella relaxed. “Depends on your definition of a kiss.”

“Oh, my God, you’re too much.” I hop off the bed.

He peeks out from behind his arm. “Leaving me already?”

“Actually, I live here. You’re the one who’d have to leave.” I slap my hands on the mattress and give him a quick kiss. “I have to pee.”

“Hurry back.”

Strange how my heart gives a lovely little flutter. “I will.”

But as soon as I step into the bathroom and glimpse my reflection, I cringe. Good Lord, I’m a complete wreck. I’m sweaty, and my hair is tangled into a chaotic sex knot at the back of my head, strands sticking out in every direction. My eyes, heavy and hooded, are bloodshot, while my lips are swollen and red, a testament to Maddox’s kisses. A quick shower is definitely needed.

As the hot water cascades over me, I smile when Maddox steps into the stall with me.

“You said you’d hurry back.”

I throw my head back, wetting my hair. “And then I saw myself in the mirror.”

He lifts a brow. “You looked adorable.”

I snort out a laugh. “I looked like a wreck.”

Maddox takes over, washing my hair for me, and being pampered is absolutely divine. His soapy hands explore every nook and cranny of my body, washing away any lingering shame over being naked in front of him. Instead, I focus on his touch. On the stroke of his palms over my fevered flesh and the dance of his taut muscles flexing under my touch. His lips crash down on mine, the water raining over us, and when I fall to my knees, he throws his arms out to brace himself.

I take him in my mouth and explore the rigid length of him. Savor his delectable taste. Flick the balls of the barbell. Suck the tip of his cock and run the flat of my tongue up his shaft. Each kiss and choked moan are an encouragement to tease him, to play, and when he can’t take it one more second, when he can’t hold back, he thrusts into my mouth. I grab his ass and holdtight as he fucks my face, every frantic thrust pushing deeper down my throat.

I gag, tears springing to my eyes, but Maddox is relentless. I hollow my tongue and let him ride my mouth, breathing through my nose as the hot water falls against my back. When he comes, I suck hard, swallowing him.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters. Then he closes his eyes and dips his head under the stream. When he emerges, he says, “You trying to kill me, Malice?”

I come off my knees and tilt my face to the water, filling my mouth. I rise, spitting it out. “Absolutely,” I retort. “Death by blowjob. What a way to go.”

“Fucking wiseass.”

I shrug. “You taught me well.”

“My bad,” he grumbles as I wash my face.

After all the soap is off, I say, “As if you’d have me any other way.”

Maddox wraps his arms around me. “Sweetheart, I’ll take you any way I can get you, as long as you’re mine.”

I melt against him, lost in his embrace. Loving how he holds nothing back. He’s an open book with me, his pages written in a language only I can read. His raw honesty is one thread that binds us, and I remember when I was just as open. When my emotions were as clear and flowed as freely. But life spun me around. Left me disoriented. I’m still struggling to make sense of things, but one thing has become clearer with each day that I’ve been home—Maddox was right.

I am his.