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He shakes his head slowly, takes a step forward, and lays his hand on my shoulder. He squeezes down, sending even more feral shimmers through me, whole worlds of them cascading inside of me.
My clit pulses, still sore from the way he sucked it into his mouth, still hot and excited from all that attention.
“I don’t want anyone else. I just want you, Maddie. Only you. Forever.”
Chapter Sixteen
Madden
The words come out as though my seed is forcing them through me, as though some inner beast is pushing them up my throat and out of my mouth. I can’t help but speak them as I stare down at her, at her messy hair and her wide innocent eyes and those lips that beg to be kissed every goddamn second.
“Forever?” she whispers.
“Come on. I need some air.”
I know it’s a delaying tactic as I take her hand and make for the door, but I don’t give a damn. It smells too much like her in here, too potently of her tangy fresh pussy, her sweat, her everything.
Leading her through the apartment, Boxcar joins us, padding at our feet as we return to the balcony.
At the sight of her laptop, I’m reminded that only thirty minutes ago we were student and teacher, nothing else, two near-strangers who met through a letter.
And now I’m going to tell her everything.
“You’ll think I’m mad.”
I sit down, looking across the table at her as she takes Boxcar into her arms. My heart warms with contentment – as though all the joy of the future is crashing into the present – each time I see how caring she is with the little guy.
“You have to tell me,” she murmurs, her fingers tickling the little man behind the ear as his face splits into a grin. “It’s not fair to say all that stuff without even giving me an explanation.”
I run a hand through my hair, letting out a deep sigh through gritted teeth, wondering if there’s any way for me to make this sound sane.
“I knew I wanted you the second I saw your letter,” I say, turning my gaze toward the city, the sun almost set, the moon pressing blue through the sky. “The second I saw your handwriting, I knew. I don’t know how that’s possible. I’ve been trying to work that out. But I can’t, except to say it was destiny, fate, fucking Cupid.”
I laugh grimly, shaking my head, imagining the look of disbelief on her face because it’s easier than turning and seeing it for myself.
“I was so relieved when you mentioned your age in the letter. Twenty. That still makes you twenty-three years younger than me—”
“I don’t care about that,” she interrupts, a crack in her voice.
I turn to find her staring at me, her eyes glimmering wetly, a soft smile touching her lips.
“Good.” I try my best to return her smile, but smiling has never been one of my skills. “Because I need you, Maddie. I don’t know how to explain any of this. But when I read your letter, I knew you belonged to me. I knew I had to make you mine. Forever. I knew we were going to have a family, a future. I knew we were going to be together, just me and you...”
I trail off, gripping the table but then quickly let go. My hands are shaking, the intensity of my need for her taking over.
I’ll snap the table in half if I hold onto it for too long.
“That’s why I can’t stand the idea of you being with another man. Because I knew you belonged to me – I knew I owned you – the second I looked at your letter, at those cute hearts.”
“How is that possible?” she whispers, her voice shivering as she tries to suppress a sob. “Just from looking at it?”
“Yeah. I know. It’s downright insane. But that’s how I felt. And then when I read the letter, I knew it. I knew it in my bones. I’ve been trying to fight this, to hold myself back, but I can’t.”
Suddenly something seems to shatter inside of her.
She lets out a croak and then explodes into tears, keeling over and cradling her arms around Boxcar as she sinks into a shuddering sob.
I rush around the table, standing over her, my hand on her shoulder. I don’t know what to do, except to rub her shoulder softly and lean down, kissing her cheek as tenderly as I’m able to, with as much softness as I can muster.
Boxcar joins in, licking at the wetness of her cheek.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, even if I’m not sure what I’m comforting her for.
How does she feel about the craziness I just told her, about the insanity lurking in my heart?
My heart that was once dead, numb, distant.
The heart that she alone has awoken.
