Page 65 of Below the Shadow of the City

“Months of going back and forth and avoiding your emotions was solved with a dream?” He returns and places the glass of water in my hand, clearly thinking I’m on drugs or dehydrated and hallucinating.

“I needed my subconscious to bite me on the ass to figure it out.” I take a long sip, purely to appease him since he’s definitely convinced I’ve lost it.

“And what did said ass biting tell you, exactly?”

“That I’m the sole person who’s been holding myself back all this time, and that I can’t stay trapped forever. I don’t have a shred of doubt anymore, and I’d be a fool if I kept trying to scare you away. Maddox, I love you. Not just in a desperate, yearning way, but in the quiet mornings, in the laughing fits we have together, and in every single moment I spend with you. And I’m not afraid of losing you anymore because you’ve shown me time and time again that you’re not going to leave without warning. You’re far better than anyone else I’ve ever been with, by a mile. And, stupid as it sounds, I really think I could spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Fucking finally,” Maddox says. “She gets it, folks!” He calls out to an imaginary crowd. He reaches around my waist and tosses me over his shoulder. I playfully punch at his back, fruitlessly since I know he won’t put me down until it’s on top of his bed.

I flop onto the comforter with a gentle thud and he’s already pulling his shirt over his head. I stay still, flat on my back, relishing in the way the downy comforter cools the heat rapidly covering my body. He bends down over top of me, and something twists deep in my stomach. I’m ready and anxiously awaiting whatever he’s going to do to me. He leans in closer and grazes my earlobe with his razor sharp canines.

“I love you more than anything and you’re going to be mine forever. That’s a threat, by the way.” Each consonant sends a chill down my spine, I twitch as he says every word. He speaks like it’s a holy oath, something he’s vowed to never break.

“Wait,” I jerk up, “Before we start our forever I need to be upfront about all my flaws so you won’t discover them and decide to leave me once you do. For starters, I’m terribly stubborn, and I hate talking about feelings, but you’re well aware of that…”

“Sigrid,” Maddox mutters my name, barely a penny on the rails of this quickly derailing locomotive. Everything that past partners have brought up bubbles to the surface. I carefully logged and tracked each comment and filed it away with the other reasons they left.

“…And I know that I snore sometimes, which you also probably know already, my ex told me that it drove her crazy⁠—”

“Sigrid,” he says a little louder, I’m unable to stop myself.

“And I don’t like cats, I pretend I’m allergic so I don’t have to interact with them. Honestly even dogs sometimes annoy me which everyone says is a red flag but I really don’t like other people’s pets climbing all over me on the street⁠—”

“Sigrid, will you just shut up?” He finally pulls me from my ranting, saying my name firmly like it’s a pet name he’s devised for just me. No one has ever said my name like that, and I doubt anyone will ever again. Each vowel lingers on his tongue with a passionate fervor, as though my name is an incantation that can cure whatever ails him.

I stare at him in befuddled silence, suddenly forgetting what I was saying. His brows tilt inwards, the corner of his lip twitches revealing the smallest hint of his fang.

“Sigrid,” he says my name a final time, like it’s a statement of fact. “Every supposed flaw you list only makes me like you more. You’re not going to be anything shy of perfect in my eyes. And unfortunately, you’re going to have to accept that.”

“Just in case you change your mind⁠—”

“Stop it, okay? I won’t change my mind. This is the last time we’re having this conversation. Besides, I’m also a many-flawed individual.”

“Doubtful, in case you weren’t aware you’re pretty fucking perfect.”

“Well, you see,” he starts. “You’re stubborn, but I can be a little bit brutish. Though, I think you’d have no problem doing what I tell you to.” His eyes narrow, I’m merely prey now. I’m going to give him the thrill of a fight even though it’s one I’ll let him win every single time.

“Maddox…” I begin to breathe heavier. “You think you can just tell me what to do?”

“Oh, baby,” he leans in close enough that I can see the tiny crinkles in the fur beside his eyes. “I know I can. Because try as you might, you can never fully escape my clutches. I know I haunt you, I know when you’re alone in bed at night you think about me. When you touch yourself, it’s my lips, my fingers, and my cock that you’re envisioning.”

Did he see my horrid search history? Does he know how often I play that voice note of his?

“Try me,” I tease. He grunts, scoffing at the thought of me not succumbing to him. He’s right, of course, I’ll fold. Surely I can give the apex predator in him a bit of a chase. His large hand grips around my thigh, his thumb rubs the inside of it and even through my jeans I can feel the roughness of the leathery pads of his fingertips.

“Fine then,” he eases back a few inches. “Are you going to take those off or do you need me to rip them off for you?” He growls low when he casts his shirt on the ground. His broad, fur-covered chest is before me. A formidable mountain that I’m desperate to climb. I look down at the outfit I’m wearing and decide I can risk losing these pieces. “I think I’m going to need some help getting them off.” He snarls and pounces on top of me, gathering the fabric of my shirt in his teeth and shredding it off in one swift motion. Cold air hits my bare stomach, and I hastily unclasp my bra and toss it aside.

My insides twitch as my fingers undo my jeans and I shimmy out of them, still horizontal on the bed. I hear his belt fall to the floor and I sit upright, “you helped with my shirt, I should return the favor.” He steps closer to me, my eyes level with his waist as he towers above my head. Maddox’s eyes twinkle as he lowers his head and kisses me on the forehead. It’s practically a magic trick how he can make the tiniest acts feel like fireworks.

I slowly unbutton his pants, and take my time as I slide them down his legs. My hands caress his perfectly rounded ass as I lower the jeans to the ground, then track around towards the front of his boxers where I feel his erection begging to be released. My fingertips slowly trace the waistband of his boxer shorts and I pull them down, inch by inch, he tilts his head back in anticipation.

Now that his cock is out, it’s perfectly at lip level for me, raging hard, and glistening with precum. I lean closer and grab the base and drag my tongue around the tip. His size no longer fazes me. I know I can take it, and I crave being filled by him. Sex was never a concern. It was, dare I say, the easiest part of all of this. I grind myself along the edge of the bed and stimulate a buzzing in my clit while I stroke the base of his cock and suck on the tip like it’s a rocket pop and it’s the middle of July.

His fingers tangle in my hair, grasping at the chin length strands. He holds his hand firmly against the back of my head, but it moves with little resistance. As my head bobs up and down his cock, his claws dig into my scalp. My tongue runs across the vein that’s a lightning bolt down the center of his length, and his claws grip deeper. It’s a sharp, hot, pain. One I wish wouldn’t dissipate.

He whimpers and whines as my mouth moves over him, and I love having the power to subdue him like this. When he comes, I swallow it all and he wipes the last bit of it dribbling from my chin with his thumb.

He pushes me down back into my horizontal position and grips my ankles, spreading my legs wide open. “My turn,” he bellows, “I’m desperate to get a taste of your sweetness.”