Page 87 of Reckoning

Meyer

In the aftermath, we laid tangled together on the floor while the sun rose outside. I put my fingers on her pulse point just as I had the night that the lake almost took her, feeling for that heartbeat to ensure she was still breathing even though I could feel the rise and fall of her chest. She pressed her lips against my rib cage, right over my own heart, and I felt it skip a beat. I smoothed back sweat-dampened hair from her face.

“I’m going to make you elotes,” she said.

“What the hell are elotes?”

“Grilled Mexican street corn. Slathered in cheese. Mom used to make them in the summer. I haven’t had any since I moved to New York.”

I wrinkled my nose. “That can’t be good for you.”

“Corn is a whole grain,” she said with a shrug.

“Well, you’re not making it right now.” I hugged her against me, pushing our bodies together as tight as I could without crushing her. “I’m not done with you.”

“Never be done with me,” she pleaded and kissed my lips.

I hadn’t kissed many women in my life. My sexual history comprised of a few one-night stands, mostly in college. There was never anyone to bring home and introduce to my family. I would never let someone I cared about see me vulnerable in front of my father, so I didn’t care about anyone besides myself. Except Maddie. I let myself obsess over her because I knew she’d have no other choice once we made our move. She became a part of me long before she knew who I was, but I never expected that I’d hand over a part of myself to her as well.

Maddie had already seen the truth. She had known parts of it long before now, even if she didn’t have the whole story. And maybe that was why kissing her felt like the first kiss I’d ever had. There was no façade to uphold. She didn’t care that I was heir to one of the most profitable and controversial businesses in the country. She saw the truth of my family life and stood defiant in the face of it instead of running away. She held me in the palm of her hand and cared for me instead of crushing me. That was why it was different. She just liked me for me.

There hadn’t been a day since I was eighteen when I hadn’t thought of some way to kill myself. And three times, I’d nearly succeeded. But since Madeline came into my home, my brain had felt … quiet. Not completely silent or free from the urge to harm myself, but calmer. Less restive. When I came home from the office and found her waiting for me, it made the bad things in my life seem a little less crushing even though she was there against her will.

“Why?”

She knew what I was asking.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

It felt like a gunshot. But there was no recoil because she still held me, still pulled my face down to hers as if I was the air she needed to breathe.

With her lips on mine, she pushed me onto my back and sat astride my hips, the blanket falling away. I had slipped away from our sanctuary earlier just long enough to close the window and muffle the rising sounds of the outside world. The room was warm again, but I didn’t feel stifled.

I couldn’t do anything but marvel at the perfect woman above me. The flawless curve of her hips and the way my fingers sank into the flesh of her thighs. The dark circles of her nipples against her pale skin. The way her hair was so sex tousled and unbrushed but still hung around her head like a halo.

I could stare at her forever.

“I don’t know why I love you.” She ground her hips against mine, eliciting the reaction she was hoping for with no effort at all. “Only that denying it feels worse than drowning.”

I frowned at the memory still all too fresh in my mind. The night I really almost lost her. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

She leaned over me, lips on my neck, pointed nipples grazing my skin. I shifted my hips, rubbing my aching erection against her leg. She was slick—I could feel that already—my cum falling out of her and mixing with more of her arousal to ready herself to take me again.

“I had the chance to run, but when I thought of leaving you even for a moment, my heart stopped beating.” She closed her mouth over one of my nipples, running her tongue over my skin. I groaned. “Despite everything, I wanted to stay. Because you were there.”

With one arm wrapped around her waist, I flipped her to her back. She kept her legs locked around my hips. I rubbed my length up and down her slit, coating myself in her smooth arousal. She sighed as her eyes fluttered closed.

“I don’t want to scare you anymore,” I swore. My voice was hoarse. It was the best promise I could make. “But I don’t know if …”

“You can,” she assured me, cutting off the words trapped in my throat. “It’s okay for now. I’ll tell you myself until you can say it out loud.”

I slipped a hand between us, shaking my hips so that her legs dropped to the floor and granted me access to her. I ran my fingers over the soft folds and the fine, curly hairs that made up the most intimate part of this beautiful woman. She sighed as I ran my fingers over her, feeling between the pliant skin until I found the source of her pleasure, and her sighs turned to gasps.

“Say it again,” I whispered, pressing against her clit with increasing pressure. I moved my hand back and forth gently, feeling her simultaneously relax and tense.

“I love you, Meyer.” Her voice was a whisper, laced with barbed wire as I held her captive in my palm.

“Again.” I slid one finger inside, then two. Fuck, she was so tight. I massaged her clit with my thumb and twisted my fingers against her walls. Her hips lifted, breasts thrusting forward, and my dick jumped in anticipation.

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