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He fucks me into the dirt, and I cling to him, so close to release it’s killing me not to have it. He refuses to give it to me, his hips jackhammering against mine, his cock swelling, and his body rippling with tension. This isn’t a pleasure fuck for him. He’s not taking his time or trying to draw out his release. He’s proving a point that if he owns me, he owns my pleasure too.
The confirmation of that fact comes when he does. He thrusts into me one last time, and his cock jerks, filling me with the warmth of his release. But it only leaves me feeling emptier when he pulls away a moment later and issues his last decree.
“You aren’t fucking leaving.”
Fresh tears track down my cheeks as I reply in a hollow voice. “I never wanted to.”
He doesn’t reply. He just lifts me into his arms, wraps my body around his, and carries me down the ridge to his waiting truck.
The drive back to his place is quiet, and when we get there, he hauls me inside and down the hall to his bathroom. He strips off both of our clothes, starts the shower, and leads me inside. Under the hot spray, he washes me, and his fingers find their way between my thighs again. Wordlessly, he gives me what I need—a silent apology and a release.
When I come for him, he lifts me up and kisses me against the shower wall. He gives me the sweet that I need, and we lose ourselves in the moment until our lips are swollen and we’re both too exhausted to continue.
At the end of it all, we fall into his bed together. Words still fail us, but Madden tells me what I need to know in the only way he can. He tucks me against his body, wraps his arm around me, and kisses my forehead good night.
Chapter 54
Madden
—PAST—
Bianca curls into me, wrapping one arm around my waist from behind while the other strokes my hair. I’ve spent the night inside her, watching her work my dick until she emptied it so many times, I’m pretty sure it’s dead. I didn’t stop her. I didn’t want to. And right now, it’s easy not to give a fuck about the consequences. But like she always does, Bianca seems to sense what I’m thinking.
“I’m on birth control, so you don’t need to worry,” she murmurs.
“Okay.”
She tilts my face toward hers, and it’s impossible to miss the pervasive sadness in her eyes that hasn’t gone away since she showed up here. Unlike her, I don’t possess psychic abilities, and I don’t know what’s bothering her. It could be any number of things. The pistol. The painful history between us. Or the fact that we haven’t once mentioned the elephant in the room. The thing we both know hasn’t changed. But I don’t want to talk about any of those subjects. I want to avoid reality at all costs, no matter how fucking stupid it is.
The unmistakable sound of a mortar launch cuts through the white noise around us, and adrenaline floods my veins as instinct kicks in. I toss the blankets over Bianca and yell at her to stay down as I bail out of bed, my ears ringing and eyes blurring from what I could swear is smoke. It sounds like Bianca’s voice is underwater as it filters through the chaos. I can’t understand how she got here, but the only thought on my mind is neutralizing the threat.
I stay low and peer between the curtain and the window, sweat trickling down my neck as I scan the street. A flash of red fades into the distance, and I flinch when someone touches my arm, only to realize it’s her.
“Madden.” Her voice is clearer now, and slowly, she comes back into focus as her fingers brush against my arm. “It’s okay. It was just a neighbor slamming their garbage can.”
“How do you know?” I maintain my position between the window and her, torn between two realities.
“I heard it too,” she says carefully. “Please, come back to bed.”
It takes a full two minutes for me to accept what she’s saying. I can’t move. All I can do is stand there, paralyzed, as I wait for my racing heart to calm. She stays with me, and I listen, but the attack never comes. And when I finally follow Bianca back to bed, exhaustion sets in. I won’t sleep, but I lie there next to her, closing my eyes as she rubs my back.
Time passes, and eventually, she falls into stillness behind me. For a while, I stay there, listening to her breathe, and it relaxes me. Her presence serves as an anchor to the now, no matter how short-lived it may be. I hold on to it, silently promising I’ll punish myself for it tomorrow.
