I sucked in a breath at his words, reaching underneath him, skimming his hardened length on the way. He hissed as I finally reached my pussy.
“No touching me,” he growled. “This is about your cunt and release. Nothing else.” Even while the words stung, they also turned me on. Humiliation coated me, reminding me I couldn’t have him but he’d let me use us both.
My fingers met messy wetness, wetness he caused, and while my brain should be on the ramifications of what I was about to do or the fact that Brandon was a room over, it simply stuck on how fucking horny Madden made me.
No matter how wrong.
No matter how immoral.
No matter how disgusting.
I want him.
The first flick of my fingers across my clit had me jerking upward with a pathetic whimper. “That pent-up, little demon?” Little demon. How much I missed that fucking name. His tone brooked no argument. He knew, he realized, and he wanted me to admit it.
“Yes,” I hissed as I rubbed slow circles, loving his heat above me.
“I want you to pinch it for me,” he directed. I do. “Good girl,” he praised, his body stiff, almost as if he couldn’t trust himself not to touch me. “With your index and middle finger, I want you to do this...” He lifted to put his two fingers together like he was holding a cigarette. “Squeeze and slide up and down your clit.”
I did as he directed, whimpering as my body shuddered from pleasure. “Slower.” The command proved how sloppy I’d been, wanting to release quickly. I slowed, moving with even tempered strokes. “That’s good. Just like that.” I felt his smile and it lit me up knowing I satisfied him. When I looked up, the pride in his expression had me wanting to please him more.
Praise kink, check.
“Keep going, you’re doing great.”
I did, my fingers stuttered as I went slow and purposeful, feeling my thighs quake as they stayed boxed in between his knees. He stilled as I thrust. His eyes were nearly slits as arousal traced his features, narrowing with each cant of my hips. The sexed-up expression promised to make me come soon.
“That's a good little demon.” He let out a controlled breath before leaning forward where his face was mere centimeters away. “Now, reach down with your other hand and fuck yourself with two fingers.”
I hissed as my hole clenched in anticipation, wanting something inside it. The spasm racking my frame and the chills at the base of my spine were exhilarating, something I'd never experienced.
Madden let off my thigh, allowing one to spread wider as he kept the other trapped. I reached down and his eyes followed as I dragged a finger over me before sinking it inside.
The squishing noise alarmed me as I entered myself, leisurely. He groaned above me and my gaze immediately shifted to him, needing to see how this made him feel. His face scrunched as his control waivered, his pain present. He held back and it strained him to be this controlled.
“Another,” he rasped, his eyes still closed. “Curl it and stroke your g-spot.” Again, I listened, adding a second finger while stroking myself with my other hand. I knew where to curve my fingers from years of masturbation. My wrist just didn’t quite do the job my vibrator did. “Do you want to come?”
“Yes. Shit, Madden, I'm close.” It came out as a gasp as the sound and smell of sex filled my senses.
“Fuck yourself how you imagine me doing it, little demon. How you wish your nephew would fuck you. How you dream of creaming on my cock.” At the word nephew, another coat of shame washed over me, arousal chasing its high from it.
I thrust inside forcefully, curling my fingers with every stroke. “Shit,” I cried quietly. Madden leaned into me, our chests nearly brushing, his face by my throat. The bed creaked again as I adjusted. It stopped my motions as fear unlocked in me once more.
“Just imagine, Andy... my mouth on your throat, painting you with my bites. You squirming from desperation, wanting to cross your legs because the feeling is too much. Me forcing your legs wider while I fucked into you.” His voice was pure gravel, tracing my body, a hiss of a whip slinging against my wanton flesh.
I whimpered with the imagery he painted and started to close my thighs as the pleasure overwhelmed me.
Sweat lined my body, intense tremors causing a full-body shake, something I shouldn’t feel for Madden.
While I attempted to close them, he flinched at what he did next, as if it physically hurt him to do so. Spreading my bent knees wider than I'd had since my dancing days. He held them down, an even pressure breaking my composure as I erupted hard. He let go of one thigh, covering my mouth and screams, holding my other hand to my pussy as I finished.
The overexposure to lust had me biting him, relieving pressure. A wetness leaked from me in heaves, my moans cut off with his hold against me. What the fuck is that? I leaned down, seeing the bedsheets soaked. Exhaustion hit me randomly, heaviness making me want to collapse and exist where Madden and I could be.
I was getting married in five weeks.
To someone else.
As I laid here, next to my nephew, I couldn’t care less for the man who asked me to be his forever.
Madden removed his hand with a smug, lazy smile. “By the look on your face, I'm guessing you've never squirted.”
I stumbled over my thoughts and then my words. “I-I um, no?” He nipped at my knee, chuckling. It was a hearty one and did things to my heart.
“There’ll be a lot more if you leave that Chad doll and choose this.”
I smacked at his chest, realizing it was soaked too. The horror must’ve been visible on my face because he laughed again. Then he took my hand, licking slowly across my fingers.
The sight was as alarming as it was erotic, I couldn’t take my eyes away. He sucked on them, dragging each digit into his mouth for a moment before popping off.
“Time’s a-wastin’, Andy. Go back to Chad before I fuck my sins into you.”
I shivered at the visual and adjusted my gown, only turning to leave when he shooed me once more. Exhaustion clamored for my consciousness, but I couldn’t bring myself to do more than fall onto my bed.
What the fuck have I done?
The next day when I woke up, Madden was gone again. Even Brandon disappeared. I checked the clock, realizing it neared noon. On the island in the kitchen, there was a note.
Last night was phenomenal. Text me when you're awake. -B
I tried not to hide my disappointment that Madden snuck off without a word, but it was there, settling in, begging me to reach out to him. My body felt exhausted and I was sure it had more to do with that shouldn't-have-happened orgasm from the middle of the night.
“There'll be a lot more if you leave that Chad doll.” My body heated up again at the feel of those words. He literally breathed them onto my skin, tickling every sense, begging me to listen and take over.
Chapter Twenty-One
Dim – SYML
Madden
It was that day of year again.
Where my age went up but my heart didn’t really feel the change, even as the atrophy ate away at it. My birthday—much like their death anniversary—was a routine for me.
I cut.
They stayed dead.
Life went on.
Razorblade kisses. I’d been calling them that since I romanticized dying, hurting myself to the brink of death, and loving the way it made me hate myself more. You have to be really fucked up to mutilate yourself to the point of scarring.