Текст книги "Addicted to Sin"
Автор книги: Monica James
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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
32
You’re Perfect to Me
DIXON
I awake, my body screaming at me for sleeping on the floor. I can’t remember when I fell asleep, but I do remember Madison was fairly settled when I passed out.
Looking at my watch, I see it’s a little past 6 a.m., and that Madison is gone. I jump up, my murky brain trying to play catch up as I frantically search the room for where she could be.
Just as I’m about to charge out the door, I hear the toilet flushing. Madison turns off the light as she exits the bathroom, giving me a small smile when she sees me standing in the middle of the room like a raving lunatic.
“I had to use the bathroom,” she explains. Tugging at the hem of my Yankees tee, she says, “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
She smiles and shyly walks over to the bed, slipping under the covers, leaving me standing and staring like a fool.
“I’ll be back,” I quickly say, heading toward the bathroom and closing the door behind me.
Bracing my hands on the sink, I turn on the water to appear like I’m actually in here for a reason because I need a damn minute to compose myself. I process through the events of last night and know that, although Madison may not be comfortable discussing what happened, I have to at least try and get her to talk about it. From her response to whatever triggered her episode, I think it’s safe to assume she’s never had therapy to deal with the monsters in her closet—especially since she’s hiding in closets to escape her monsters.
Brushing my teeth and washing my face, I think I’ve exhausted my bathroom stay long enough and quietly close the bathroom door behind me as I exit.
Madison is sitting up, leaning against the headboard, obviously awaiting my arrival. When our eyes meet, she quickly looks away, biting her lip. I give her some time to regroup and hunt through my closet for a tee and a pair of sweats. Stripping off my shirt, I quickly slip on a T-shirt and try my best to put on my sweats without flashing her.
Once I’m dressed, I make my way over to the bed and stand at the end. I remain silent, waiting for Madison to speak.
“I’m sorry, Dixon,” she says after a minute of silence. “I’m so sorry I embarrassed you…’
I gesture with my hand for her to stop talking. “You have nothing to be sorry for. And you most definitely did not embarrass me. I was so worried about you,” I confess, while she lowers her eyes. “What happened?” I ask, making no attempt to move.
Madison shrugs and tugs at a loose thread on the comforter.
“Did I do something wrong?” I ask, deciding to play twenty questions and hoping one of them will be the right one.
“No!” she yells, her eyes flicking up to meet mine. “No, you did nothing wrong.”
“Then what happened?” I ask, imploring her to tell me.
Madison sighs before confessing, “I was talking to Rebecca and something she said…upset me,” she says, but I know talking to Rebecca was just a trigger to a deep-rooted problem.
“You know nothing that comes out of that woman’s mouth is credible, right?” I assert, crossing my arms across my chest. I hold my breath and pray that she hasn’t spilled the beans about Juliet.
“I know,” she replies with a nod. “But it brought up some bad memories,” she finally admits. “I obviously haven’t dealt with them as well as I thought I had. But last night,” she says, her eyes focusing on mine. “The breakdown, the tears, the near catatonic state…That’s something that hasn’t happened in a long time.”
“So this has happened before?” I gently press, still making no attempt to move. Her freak out at my apartment was so different compared to this.
“Yes.” Her mouth dips into a small frown.
“Would you like to talk about it?”
Madison shakes her head violently.
I knew she would respond this way, but now that I’ve broached the topic, I can’t let it lie. “I promise I won’t psychoanalyze you. I just want to help. You need to talk about whatever happened to you, Madison. It’s eating away at your existence and before long, it’ll rule who you are.”
“I can’t,” she cries, drawing her knees up toward her, placing a barricade between us.
“Yes, you can,” I avow with a nod. “I know you can. The Madison I know is a survivor, a fighter, and I think it’s time you let go of your fear.”
Madison’s lip trembles, and she sniffs back her tears. “I can’t tell you…everything. I’m not ready. But I want to at least try. I want to be honest with you because you’re right; my past is ruling my future.”
“That’s okay. You tell me what you can. That’s the first step, which is always the hardest,” I say with a small smile.
Madison takes a deep breath and nods. “My dad left us when I was five. It was only me, my mother, and my brother, Dylan. My father was the breadwinner, so when he left us, my mother was forced to work two jobs to support my brother and me. She was never home, but it was no fault of hers. She was trying her best. My brother was nine, and well, he saw himself to be the man of the house. When Mom was at work, Dylan would look after me. I really looked up to him, I mean, he was my hero.”
Her use of past tense paints a picture of feelings she no longer feels. But I remain silent, allowing her to continue.
“I started developing early, much earlier than my friends. By the time I was ten, I had boobs as big as kids in the ninth grade. I guess I forgot my brother was a fourteen-year-old kid with raging hormones. I also forgot he had fourteen-year-old friends with raging hormones,” she adds. “I was never shy around Dylan, and never thought twice about walking around in just a towel after I showered. But why would I? I had been doing so since I was a kid. I was naïve.”
“One night, Dylan had his friends over and they were causing a commotion in his room. So I spied on them and caught them drooling over a booby blonde in a dirty magazine. I didn’t really understand what they were so excited about, but I knew if Dylan caught me spying, he would be mad. I quickly went to my room and got ready for bed, and that’s when Dylan came to tuck me in.”
She pauses and lowers her eyes, and I know what she’s about to say is going to tear out my heart.
“I was wearing my favorite Disney Princess nightie, which was two sizes too small, but I didn’t care. I loved that nightie because it made me feel like a princess, and I would fantasize that one day my Prince Charming would find me and sweep me off my feet. Dylan tucked me in and I remember a look of…arousal,” she whispers, “pass over his face when he accidentally brushed against my breasts. I didn’t think too much of it, but when it happened the next night and the night after that, I knew something…him…touching me was wrong.”
I clench my fists by my sides, and internally count to five before I explode. Madison continues, lost in the past as she recounts her gory tale.
“Stuff…went on for three years, and I…hated it. It would always start out the same. He would switch off the light, like the darkness would hide his sins. But it never did. I should have told my mom, but I…oh, God,” she cries, covering her face with her hands.
I can’t stay still a second longer and rush over to her side, scooping her up in my arms. She comes willingly and cries into my neck, her ice-cold body trembling in my embrace.
I don’t want to coo at her and tell her it’ll be all right because I know her story has only just begun. I allow her to cry and don’t push for her to continue as I know tonight’s confession was a big one to make. But she pulls out of my embrace, wiping her tear-stained eyes.
“There’s more,” she says, her lower lip wavering.
“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” I reply, brushing her matted hair off her face.
“I know, but I want to,” she sadly declares, and I nod.
Taking a deep breath, she continues. “I hated my body, and I blamed my mature figure for evoking Dylan’s behavior. The bigger girls at school were teased and ridiculed, and no boys liked them, so I thought if I was like them, then maybe Dylan would stop liking me too. I gained about fifteen pounds, pigging out on all the greasy foods and desserts I could stomach without being sick.”
The moment she mentions desserts, I now understand why Madison has such a sweet tooth. She used food as a defense mechanism against her incestuous brother. But I have a feeling that was only a short-term solution.
“For a while, it worked. Dylan seemed distracted, and the late-night visits stopped. I thought everything was going to be okay, and by this stage, Mom had met a wonderful man and they were engaged to be married. Mom didn’t have to work late nights anymore because Sebastian was filthy rich and he wanted to provide for us. We moved into Sebastian’s home a few months later, and Sebastian loved us like his own kids. I saw him as my savior because, once he entered the picture, Dylan left me the hell alone.
“However, on the night of Dylan’s eighteenth birthday, things changed. We had a party for him at Sebastian’s house. It was a great night, and things were slowly getting back to normal. After the celebrations were over, I went to bed and left my door unlocked. I’d got into the habit of locking my door, not that it mattered because Dylan would always find a way in. But that night, I felt safe enough and left my door ajar. I was stupid.”
We’re sitting side by side, and I can’t stop myself as I reach out and brush her cheek. “Go on, but only if you want to.”
Madison leans into my touch and nods.
“I had just fallen asleep but was awoken by a hand covering my mouth. I tried to scream but I was trapped under the full weight of my drunken…brother. I tried fighting him off but he was too strong, and after a while, I gave up,” she whispers, a tear sliding down her cheek. “I should have fought harder, but I was just so scared, and I was tired of fighting him. I just wanted him to leave me alone. But that night was different, he was rough and he wanted…more. His words haunt me till this very day,” she shakily confesses. “All he said to me was ‘You’ll do this, Sunny. If you love me, you’ll do this.’ Sunny was his nickname for me. He said I was his sunshine, which is ironic, seeing as I always felt nothing but darkness when I was near him.”
I hate to even imagine what she means by “this.” I try my hardest not to smother her and allow her to finish, because I know her tale is one she has never told a soul.
“I just…he raped…it hurt so bad. I should have fought harder,” she repeats, shaking her head, unable to finish.
“Madison, I’m so sorry.” I sigh, rubbing her arm. “This isn’t your fault. It’s your brother’s,” I spit, unable to say the word without clenching my teeth.
“It is my fault. I shouldn’t have encouraged him. I should have told my mom. I should have done a lot of things,” she cries, wiping her eyes.
“You were only a kid,” I reply, wanting nothing more than to comfort her, but allowing her the space she needs.
“You don’t understand. I should have told my mom because, that night, someone saw,” she whispers, and I pull back, stunned by her confession.
“Someone saw you and…?” I question, but can’t bring myself to say the words I want to say.
“Yes,” she replies, her eyes filling with new tears.
“Who?” I ask, my rage boiling to the surface.
Madison shakes her head, closing her eyes in defeat. “It was someone who should have saved me because she knew what he was doing the entire time. She saw him taking away my innocence. She heard me calling out for help. But instead of helping me, she closed the door. And the next day, she acted like she didn’t witness a thing.”
But I can’t let this rest, I need to know who, so I can find both motherfuckers and kill them. “Tell me,” I press, lightly gripping her upper arms and beseeching her to tell me.
The moment I touch her, Madison’s body freezes up and she yelps in terror. “Please let me go,” she begs, choking on her fear.
I instantly let go when I realize how hard I’m holding onto her, and she scurries away from me, her back hitting the headboard.
“I’m sorry, Madison,” I remorsefully say, hands raised in surrender. “I would never hurt you. I’m just, I—”
“You’re what? Disgusted? Shocked? Think that I’m sick?” she barks, her cheeks flushed.
“What?” I ask, aghast. “No. How could you even think that?”
“Because that’s what I think of myself!” she replies angrily.
Her hurt has vanished, and is now replaced with rage.
“None of this is your fault,” I say again, but she cuts me off, enraged.
“Stop it! It is my fault! I should have screamed. I should have said no. I should have told my mom, but I just couldn’t. After Dad left, she was a broken woman. I couldn’t tell her, her son was—” she says with a repulsed look. “She worked so hard, sacrificing everything to put food on the table, and when she met Sebastian, it stopped. But still, I should have told her.”
Madison covers her face with her hands, and I can see she’s teetering close to the edge.
“I’m disgusting, Dixon. I’m dirty and unclean.” She begins scratching at her flesh, trying to cut away her pain.
“No, you’re not,” I press, placing a palm over her hands, as her punishing fingernails are drawing blood.
“Yes, I am!” she bellows, shrugging me off of her. “How can you look at me? I’m pathetic.”
Her self-hate upsets me and I can’t stop myself as I confess, “When I look at you, I see the same Madison I saw the first moment I met you—the kind, vulnerable girl I had to know. But now that I know the real you, I realize you’re not vulnerable, you’re a survivor and you’re strong.”
“I’m—” she interrupts, but I cut her off.
“You’re the girl I haven’t stopped thinking about since we first met, and you’re the girl I’m falling for,” I conclude, unable to bottle my emotions.
Her mouth pops open and mine does too, as I was not expecting that last part to slip out. But who am I kidding? Madison has gotten under my skin from the moment I met her, and no other woman has been able to take her place.
Juliet seems like a distant memory, one which I never want to relive, because this right here, this is real. It’s gritty, it’s raw, and it’s hard, but it’s everything I want because I want Madison.
“You’re what?” she says, disbelief painting her face.
“You heard me,” I reply, inching closer. “I’m completely under your spell.”
“But I’m damaged goods, Dixon,” she says, shaking her head in mistrust.
“You’re perfect to me,” I reply in a whisper, and I’ve never been more certain about anything ever before.
A stunned gasp leaves her parted lips, but I remain still. I’m too heated to make a move because the next move I make will be smashing my lips to hers.
“Dixon, I…” she says, her beautiful green eyes focusing on mine. “I…” but she doesn’t fill in the blanks.
She merely lowers her face to mine and closes the distance between us. The kiss is soft and chaste, but the moment I feel her warm lips on mine, I lose all control and nothing else matters but devouring this woman with my last breath.
I kiss her with a deep, desperate longing and feel like an inexperienced school kid as I thrust my tongue into her mouth, wanting to savor every last part of her. She returns my kiss with frantic fervor as she wraps her arms around my neck and draws me so close that not even a wisp of air could pass between us. But I like it. I like that she’s showing no restraint, especially after tonight.
That thought has me backing off, however, as she just confessed her deepest, darkest secrets and I’m pawing at her like a dog in heat. But the moment I do, Madison yanks on my hair and presses my face firmly to hers, not letting me go.
“Make me forget,” she breathlessly pants against my lips as she pulls away. “I want it to be your hands, your mouth, your body I remember, not his.”
How can I say no to a request such as this? But how far can I take this without freaking her out? Will she regret her decision once we’re done?
She must be able to read my apprehension because she reaches for my hand and places it against her heaving chest. “Touch me. Please make new memories. Ones I won’t be afraid to remember.”
The last of my resolve vanishes with her honesty and I nod, needing to take away her pain.
Wasting no time, I lower my mouth to hers, determined to make it my kisses she remembers, and nobody else’s. She kisses me back with such fierce intensity, and as much as I try to rein in my hormones, my dick decides that’s an awful idea and raises his intrigued head. I don’t want to freak her out, and my impending erection will most likely do just that. But she surprises me when she reaches between us and, with gentle, bashful strokes, she lightly rubs over the bulge in my pants. I can’t hide my delight at her touching me, and I try to suppress my moan, but her inquisitive fingers feel too good and a low growl slips past my parted lips.
“Does that feel okay?” she questions, the uncertainty apparent in her tone.
“It feels more than just okay,” I breathlessly reply. “It feels incredible. You’re incredible.”
My words seem to spur her on and her fingers wrap around my length, softly stroking me up and down through the material of my sweats. As good as this feels, I want to be the giver, not the receiver, so I tenderly still her hand with mine.
“What’s the matter?” she asks, her confused eyes opened wide.
“Lie back,” I gently order, kissing the tip of her nose.
“W-Why?”
“Because I really, really want to go down on you,” I honestly reply, while Madison blushes a bright pink hue, “and I want to make this as comfortable for you as I can.”
She hesitates for a mere second, but then slowly lowers herself onto the bed, her dark hair contrasting with the white silk sheets. I take her in, not wanting to rush, but the sight of her flushed face, wild hair, heaving chest, and bare, perfect legs, has me eagerly swooping forward and capturing her mouth with mine.
Being with Madison this way feels so perfect, and so right, and any other memory pales in comparison to what is happening between us right now. Her responsive body succumbs to my touch, and that fact has me walking my hand between us, needing to feel her bare skin. I brush over her erect nipple, and Madison groans into my mouth. I slip lower and curse my damn T-shirt for being so long because it takes me an eternity to find her skin. But the moment I do, nothing else matters.
The muscles in her supple thighs quiver under my touch, and as much as I want to savor this moment, I can’t stop myself as I slowly slide my fingers over her lace underwear. She hisses, and to my surprise, she opens her legs wider, granting me access to her most personal treasure. The damp material between her legs reveals that Madison is as turned on as I am, and as I continue rubbing her through her thong, I know she’s not too far from coming.
When I break our kiss, she inhales a large gulp of air, my intense kisses starving her of oxygen. Her unsure eyes meet mine, but I don’t give her time to rethink her decision. I slip my hand into her underwear and cup her wet, hot pussy. We both moan at the contact and Madison raises her hips, silently begging me to continue. With our eyes still locked, I slowly insert my finger, her tight inner walls sucking me into the cavern of her warm body. She’s incredibly tight, too tight, and I know I’ve entered a place no man has ever entered before. The thought sickens me because this just confirms what I knew to be true. Madison is a virgin, but her brother, he raped and degraded her in the worst possible way. But I push those vile thoughts aside. I won’t allow that bastard to ruin this for us.
“Dixon,” she moans, throwing her head back and squeezing her eyes shut.
I begin moving within her, my movements measured and paced, as I don’t want to hurt her. But when she arches her back and opens her legs wider, I know measured and paced will no longer do. Tiny whimpers escape her parted lips when I work in another finger and stretch her wide. My deep intrusion is a shock to her sensitive tissues, but she doesn’t stop me. She begins rotating her hips, finding a comfortable rhythm as I hungrily finger her, her wetness providing all the lubrication I need.
Her clit is swollen and needy, and as I brush my thumb over the bundle of nerves, she cries out, bucking her hips upward.
“You like that?” I hoarsely ask, my fingers moving faster and deeper within her.
“Yes,” she gasps, her greedy muscles holding on tightly, not letting me go. “Please don’t stop.”
“Never, I’m right here with you. Let go,” I gently encourage, pushing my fingers in further and lightly circling her clit with my thumb.
The action sends her wild and she bows her back, pumping her hips furiously to match the tempo of my punishing fingers.
“Let go, angelo, let go,” I repeat, as I can feel her release is moments away.
Without delay, her body responds to my command and she cries out loudly, her orgasm hitting her so hard her entire body shivers from head to toe. The sight is the hottest thing I have ever seen, and still lost in a pleasure bubble, I allow Madison to laze in her gratification for a mere second before I scoot down her body, grab a hold of her flimsy underwear, and rip them clean off. Before she has time to protest, I lap at her drenched pussy in one slow, agonizing lick. She yelps in shock, but I’m holding her prisoner until she explodes once again, and this time, it’ll be on my tongue.
I bury my face deeper between her legs and simply bask in the heady fragrance of her arousal. Nothing has ever smelled or tasted sweeter, and when she shuffles away, embarrassed by her unconcealed exposure to my mouth and eyes, I latch onto her thigh, throw her other leg over my shoulder, and fasten my mouth to her glorious pussy.
She moans in approval and relaxes her body, slackening under my gentle sucks and licks. Pushing her leg out further, she’s spread out in front of me, her pinkness glistening with her desire. I lick up her entrance, and then down, and she cries out when I insert my tongue, twirling it within her writhing body.
“Oh…my…God,” she gasps, taking a breath between each word.
Her pleasure spurs me on and I dive in deeper, sucking, licking, biting, and worshiping her until Madison is shamelessly fucking my face, her body trembling under every demanding stroke I deliver. She’s totally exposed, but yet it’s not enough, so I insert a finger, opening her up so I can gain full access to her heat.
Her tiny whimpers grow louder as I impale her over and over again with my tongue and finger, and when she subtly raises her hips, begging me to get her off, I take her clit into my mouth and suck hard. She thrashes about uncontrollably and screams out her release, her second orgasm ripping through her like a forest fire, her flesh scorching my mouth and tongue.
I growl the moment I taste her coming, lapping at her juices, not able to get enough. She writhes and moans, and as I regretfully slow down my licking, she comes down from her orgasmic high with a satiated groan.
I pull away, watching the goddess in front of me take a minute to catch her breath. Her flushed appearance has my dick throbbing in absolute desire. But this was about Madison, not me, and watching her come undone because of my actions was more of a turn-on than actually having sex. I’ve never wanted to please anyone as much as I have her, and after tasting her, I’m addicted.
Madison’s eyes flutter open, her green jewels heavy and lust-laden.
“Hi,” I say, unable to keep the smile off my face as I crawl up her body.
“Hi,” she replies, her voice husky and hoarse.
I lie beside her, giving her some room because I don’t want to crowd her, as I’m unsure how she’ll respond to what went down between us. But she surprises me when she fists my collar and yanks me toward her, smashing her lips to mine. I kiss her back with as much enthusiasm, and when I slip in my tongue, she pulls back, covering her mouth with her hand.
“What’s the matter?” I ask, puzzled.
With flushed cheeks, she replies, “I can taste…me, on…you,” she manages to get out without turning into a complete tomato.
“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” I reply with a smirk. “I’m not sure how I’ll survive without your taste. One sip and I’m already addicted.”
Madison lowers her eyes, and I wonder what’s going through that pretty little head of hers to sour the mood.
“What’s wrong?”
“I-I don’t want you to survive without it,” she confesses before covering her face with her hands.
With a chuckle, I uncover her face. “Well, neither do I. I’m quite certain I’ll perish without it.”
I’m trying to lighten the mood, because what just happened between us was beautiful.
“So what now?” she asks nervously, turning on her side and leaning into her palm.
“I see there being only one answer.”
“And what’s that?” she quickly counters, her chest beginning to rise rapidly.
“You let me do that, every day from here on forward,” I reply, not seeing any point in being indirect.
Madison smirks. “I think I can handle that.”
“Yeah?” I ask, brushing a lock of hair off her brow.
“Yeah,” she affirms. “Oh, I know this is probably not the best time, but I broke up with David.” She shyly bites her lip.
I clench my jaw, his name like a kick to my balls. However, the context in which she’s used it has me smiling happily. “Good, because if you hadn’t broken up with him, I would be forced to do it for you. And I would be doing a lot more than just breaking up with him. I would be breaking his nose as well,” I add, while Madison playfully rolls her eyes.
“So it’s official? We’re actually doing this?”
I nod.
She looks to be pondering on her next sentence. “Can we take it slow? I mean, tonight was the first time I opened up emotionally, and physically,” she adds with a blush.
“We’ll take it as slow as you want to go. I’m here with you, every step of the way. I promise.”
“I’m messed up, Dixon.”
“So am I,” I confess. I can’t erase my past, but I sure as shit can try and make amends. I can try and make amends for my man-whoring ways, and also, for being an awful son.
“I can’t promise I won’t push you away when things get heated, or too intense. But I’ll try my best. I really want this to work.”
“So do I,” I reply, never wanting anything more.
“In that case, I give you permission to knock some sense into me if I start acting like a basketcase.”
“Thank you, but that’s not necessary. I have complete faith in you. In us,” I affirm with a nod.
“Us,” she repeats with a smile. “I like the sound of that.”
“Me too,” I reply, my persistent erection throbbing when Madison mysteriously blushes.
She reveals the reason behind her blush when she huskily asks, “So, now what?”
Rolling on top of her, I smirk when a small intake of breath gets trapped in her throat. My erection, no doubt, is the cause of her breathlessness.
“Now,” I state. “I’m going to kiss you.” She gasps as I tongue the shell of her ear. “I’m just not going to tell you where,” I add, before taking her mouth and holding it prisoner, with no intent of ever letting go.
