Page 88 of Sweet Madness

My heart stops in my chest as I spot her.

Dressed in one of those sexy summer dresses, Ella rides Geraldine gracefully toward the lake with a smile on her face, laughing as she goes. The sight of her takes my breath away.

Her black curls, which I’ve come to love so much, flutter behind her like a cascade of ribbons as she urges Geraldine forward.

Everything she does drives me wild. I can’t get enough of her, even when I try my best to stay away.

Before her, women were just an escape. A meaningless moment to drown my sorrows in, but Ella is different.

I never wanted to be better or more for someone else, but for her, I do.

I want to be the kind of man who deserves a princess like her. I want to be the one she gives all her smiles to, the one she turns to when the world is cruel, the one who punishes that world for hurting her.

Despite knowing that I shouldn’t go after her, I ignore it and follow my heart instead—a heart that’s beating like a drum inside my chest, as if it knows its owner is not far away.

With determination written on my face, I quickly saddle Peppermint. With a flick of the reins, we set off toward the lake. The wind tousles my hair as we gallop, and my heart races in rhythm with Peppermint’s strides.

As we near the shore, I spotted her naked silhouette against the shimmering water, reflecting the pink and orange hues of the sky above.

She looks like a vision in gold amidst the rippling waves.

Without hesitation, I dismount and approach the water’s edge, needing to see more of her. Pausing for a moment, I take in the sight of Ella bathed in the soft glow of the sun, her laughter echoing like a comforting melody across the lake as she floats.

When I’m close enough, I murmur, “You’re... beautiful,” unsure if she hears me. But then she turns, and everything around us stops; everything that isn’t her fades into the background.

I stand transfixed at the edge of the lake, unable to look at anything else but her. My breath catches as her piercing blue eyes hold me captive. Then the little vixen can’t resist flashing a wicked smile my way—a smile that tells me all I need to know from the woman who has stirred every emotion I’ve long kept guarded.

There’s no denying it: I need her like I need my next breath. I need to touch her and have her close. I need… her.

The decision to join her in the water feels like shedding layers of armor I’ve worn for too long. With a deep breath and a made-up mind, I take off my mud-stained shirt, feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin.

My gaze flickers toward Ella, who is watching me with curious eyes filled with a desire that matches my own. I kick off my boots and step out of my briefs and jeans, leaving them in a heap beside my shirt. Ella’s smile widens as she wades deeper into the lake while I follow, each step bringing me closer to her.

The lake embraces me as I enter, the water cool against my sun-kissed skin. Once underwater, I open my eyes enough to see where she is. I take her in my arms and come up for air.

“You found me,” she laughs, jovially, her eyes twinkling.

“I found you,” I murmur, pulling her closer until her wet tits are pressing against my naked chest. Fuck, she feels good. She feels… right as if here, in my arms, it’s where she was born to be in.

The evening air is alive with the whispers of nature, the only sounds are the soft lapping of water against our naked bodies and the distant chirping of birds.

We are all alone.

Good.

If she had undressed where others could see her, we were going to have a problem. The green little fucker that lives inside me, comes alive with jealousy, but when she touches her button nose against mine, I melt.

I fucking melt while she calms the beast in me.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispers closed to my mouth, her lovely breath a mix of cherry and mint captivating me, just like every little thing she did. “I’ve dreamed of you for so long, Shaw,” Ella draws a long breath before she continues her thought, my heart beat rising with each word out of her sweet mouth. “At times you don’t feel real.”

“Likewise, moonshine,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper, my gaze never leaving hers. “I’m still not sure if you’re a dream my fucked-up mind has conjured after so many nightmares.”

Her eyes soften. “I’m real, beautiful man, and I’m here,” she replies simply, her words feeling like a promise.

This sweet little thing in my arms makes me feel strong yet weak at times and I’m hooked with the feeling.

I’m hooked on her. There’s no point in denying it any longer.

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