Page 44 of Madness

I didn’t know what to say, so I just kept my hand in his. I lingered in this moment with him. Finally, he broke the silence. His question surprised me.

“Why did you say yes to my offer?” I dropped my eyes then and brought my hand back into my own lap. Unable to look at him. I feared he’d see the truth. That he could read people like I could.

“I’m not sure.” I answered as honestly as I was willing to. “You didn’t give me much of a choice.”

That was part of it. I also needed the money. But I couldn’t deny I was attracted to him. To what he could do to my body. It was dangerous letting myself walk down this path. I might not find my way out. But life hadn’t really given me much at this point.

Maybe I needed this little adventure. Needed to stop living in my books. He might hurt my body. But he couldn’t hurt my heart. That had already been shattered when my mom died. There was nothing left for him to break. As long as I kept my head clear, I could survive this.

“Careful, little dove.” Maddox practically scolded as if I was a child he was issuing a warning to. “You don’t want me to start counting punishments.”

I focused on my food again, trying to ignore the ache between my thighs at his threat. I was sick. But I wasn’t going to give him an excuse to punish me. I wasn’t going to play into what he wanted. What I feared we both wanted

“How many other women have you done this with?” I whispered.

I don’t know why I said it. I shouldn’t care. He could fuck anyone he wanted. In fact, it would be better for me if he found someone else to focus his depraved attention on. But part of me wanted a connection, cared. I didn’t want to be like anyone else.

I wanted to be special.

It was wrong. I was going to get trapped. I literally just told myself he couldn’t feel. But here I was, still hoping. I needed to stop reading romance novels. I’d become a romantic and hadn’t even realized it. But this story wouldn’t have a happy ending.

“Kincaid.” There was something in his voice. It was that soft voice again. The one that tried to wrap around my insides. That tried to convince me he wasn’t a demon. “Look at me.”

I stared at my now empty plate. I didn’t want to get lost in those piercing eyes.

“Look at me, or I’ll start counting punishments.”

My eyes came to his without my permission. There was a soft shine to his usually hard stare. The breath lodged in my lungs. I wanted him to look at me like this all the time. I wanted to believe he felt for me. I wanted this to be something it wasn’t. Real.

“I’ve never brought someone to my home.”

My chest tightened. I wanted to ask more. Wanted him to say more. “Then why did you bring me?”

“I’m not sure.” He looked genuinely confused, both at his answer and admitting it. “All I’m sure of is I want you. I’ve wanted you from the second you walked into the room.”

The intensity in his blue eyes locked me in place. I couldn’t look away. Couldn’t breathe. I think every woman wishes to have someone look at her like this. Like she’s unique. Important.

Unfortunately for me, it wasn’t a look of love. It was obsession. Madness. And it was coming from a demon.

“I want to touch you. Hurt you. Make you scream for me. Bleed at my hands. Break.”

It wasn’t a declaration of love. But it affected me in a way it shouldn’t. It shouldn’t turn me on. Make my panties wet and my core clench. It shouldn’t make my heart race and my mind wander. Wander to an ending that wouldn’t happen. An ending where this obsession became something more.

Maybe I could soften him. Maybe he wasn’t beyond redemption. He’d suffered. If someone showed him kindness, could he change? If he did, would I still want him as much as I did now?

I glanced up at him and saw the sick smile on his face. He saw it. Saw my resolve weakening. My hope. The crack in my armor. How could it not crack?

How could I not feel something for the man who saved me from being raped? Especially now that I knew more about him. More about his own trauma.

His smile widened as he watched the emotion flick across my face. “You want me.”

It wasn’t a question. But I lied anyways. “I don’t want you. You’re paying me to be here.”

The statement hung heavy in the air. Both of us knowing it was a lie. Both of us knowing things had shifted inside me.

I felt his rage grow beside me. Felt him hurt at my words. I didn’t think it was possible for me to hurt him, but I had. Maybe I had more power in this situation than I thought.

“On your knees.” Maybe not.

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