Page 23 of Psycho

“Their hearts.” He stared at me, and I tried to keep any emotion off my face. “Have you ever seen a human heart in person before?”

“Can’t say as I have.”

Maddox cocked his head to the side, “Do you want to?”

I opened my mouth to decline forcefully, expecting the nausea from the finger episode to return, but there was none. Every day he would tell me what gift he got me from someone on the list of people that wanted me dead, and I would forcefully ignore any mental imagery of the items that tried to assault my brain.

But today, no disgust came. I doubted it was because it was hearts, those seemed as grotesque as the fingers, ears, eyeballs and other organs that he had collected, yet I was mildly intrigued.

“I don’t know.” I paused, “Quintin’s sounds appealing, but only if I can take a meat tenderizer to it for the fun of it.”

He raised one brow at me, “That sounds personal.”

I shrugged, not wanting to turn my calm and relaxed psycho into a raging and vengeful one before I finished my breakfast. “He was an evil man.”

“Explain that further.”

I took another bite of my pancakes and brought my knees to my chest, trying to word my next sentences carefully. “He had a thing for thick girls, but not in a fantasy way. He liked the big girls so he could degrade them and break their spirits because of their looks before he fucked them.” I watched him closely, trying to read his expression as I recalled the memory. “One time, Damon made me meet him at his club during selection hour,” I explained, remembering the way that bastard’s words and hands had felt when they hit me, I gritted my teeth. “I almost didn’t make it out of there without him—” I closed my eyes and shook my head, “You know.”

“Raping you.” Maddox leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “You almost didn’t make it out of there without the man raping you.”

“Yeah,” I whispered, and cleared my throat, trying to brush it off. “But he didn’t. Damon doesn’t like to share his toys.”

Maddox’s massive chest rose and fell as he filled his lungs, watching me like a hawk. “Come here.”

I scowled, “What?”

“Come here.” He pushed his chair back and challenged me with his dominant eyes, “Now, Storm.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m struggling to stay calm hearing about how they treated you. I’m struggling not to go back and mutilate the fucker’s body even more than I did last night for what he did. I’m pissed that I didn’t know that before I went for him. And I need to calm down, so you don’t see that side of me.”

“You don’t scare me.” I whispered, not really believing it.

“Yes, I do.” He closed his eyes, “And I hate that. Now, get your ass over here so I can calm down before I hulk out and scare you with my darkness.”

Not really sure why I was getting to my feet and walking closer to the man who just admitted to being triggered, I rounded the table and as soon as I was within reach, he lifted me onto his lap, straddling him. He was so fucking tall we were face to face even though I was sitting on him, and I instantly ran my hands up his shoulders to the back of his neck, feeling the tension there.

He leaned forward and buried his face in my neck, taking a deep breath as he wrapped his massive arms around my body, pressing me to him tight. “I don’t recognize this feeling inside of me, Storm.”

“Describe it.” As I ran my nails up the back of his head, he let out a noise similar to a purr and his chest rumbled against my breasts, which were firmly pressed against him. So, I did it again.

“Like I want to hurt anyone who’s hurt you.” He replied, his voice strained, “It’s overwhelming, a tidal wave of emotion consuming me like never before, leaving me breathless. The urge to protect and avenge you is more powerful now. I feel like I’ll snap under the need to act on it.”

“Act on something else, then.” I pulled his head back by a handful of his hair and rocked in his lap. “Because I’m safe and sound, right here. Because ofyou.”

“Maybe I’ll do just that.” He reached behind me and the plates and glasses rattled as he shoved them aside.

“What are you doing?” I asked and then shrieked when he put me on the table and pushed my thighs wide. I was naked under my nightgown and on display for him in the bright morning light of his kitchen but when I tried to close my knees, he pushed them wider apart, staring at my exposed center and licked his lips with a feral look in his eyes.

“You ate your food like my good girl, and now you get your reward.” He pulled my hips forward, making me reach behind me to support myself as only my tailbone touched the table. Leaning forward, Maddox licked me from ass to clit and sucked it into his mouth, pulling a startled scream from my lips that ended on a moan. He growled, twisting his face back and forth against my pussy and letting his whiskers stimulate me everywhere. “I want my beard covered in your cream, baby girl. Let me use this sweet pussy to calm my psycho down.”

“Fuck!” I moaned when he dived back in, pushing his tongue into me and sucking. “Just like that.” Giving into the pleasure he was intent on giving, I held myself up with one hand behind me and scraped my nails through the hair on the back of his head, pulling him against me harder as I arched my back and rode his face like a good little slut.

Who was I to tell the man who was risking his life for me that he couldn’t pleasure me sexually to calm his inner demons?

Duh.

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