Page 52 of Madness

It was rare that I touched him. There was an unspoken barrier. He could touch me. Hurt me. But I didn’t initiate contact. It would be like admitting I wanted to touch him. Wanted him to touch me. None of that seemed to matter now.

My chest had constricted painfully when I’d seen he was injured. It was clear I did care about him. I didn’t know what to do with that.

Thankfully Maddox didn’t question me. He was silent the whole drive. His face set in hard planes. His jaw clenched as his fingers dug into mine. His hold wasn’t tender. It was possessive, keeping me linked to him. I could still feel the energy radiating off of him. The air around us was heavy with it. It clung to my skin and made a home underneath. A sense of foreboding.

When we pulled up in front of the mansion, I waited for him to exit and open the door for me. He didn’t take my hand again as I got out of the car. My skin felt cold without his. My anxiety ticked higher as I waited for what would happen. I could tell this wouldn’t be our normal night. Not that anything we did was normal, but there was an intensity tonight that we’d never had before.

“Dining room. Now.” Maddox said as soon as the heavy wood door closed behind us. I didn’t dare pause or disobey him.

There was something different about him. For the first time since this started, I feared him. Something was wrong. He was out of control. Furious, and I knew he would unleash that on me. I was twisted because I wanted him to.

I wanted him to be able to let go of whatever was bothering him. I wanted to be someone he could come to for peace. For help. Someone who could care for him. Because I knew no one ever had before.

“Maddox.” I turned to him when he entered the room behind me. The table was set for dinner. A dinner I didn’t think we’d be eating tonight.

“Admit you want this. Me.” The intensity in his voice raced through my body. My heart pounded in my ears, and my hands shook as I stared at him.

Could I admit it?

No.

Even though my body craved him. Even though I’d started to understand him. I couldn’t admit it. Being forced here, being paid, was the only thing I was hanging on to. It was the only thing stopping me from completely falling apart. I discovered my body could take the pain. I didn’t think my mind could.

His hands clenched at his sides as I stood silently before him. I couldn’t admit that I wanted him, but I also couldn’t find my voice to lie to him either. It should’ve been easy, but it wasn’t.

“Take off your clothes, Kincaid.” I complied. Willingly. I stripped off the plain t-shirt I’d been wearing and wiggled out of my worn leggings. I stood before him in a red lace bra and thong. Something he’d bought me. They were beautiful and fit perfectly. Nicer than anything else I owned.

“Did you wear that for me?” I turned my head to the side. I couldn’t look into his eyes anymore. I didn’t want to lose myself in their intensity. “You act like you don’t want me. But you keep coming here. Keep letting me touch you. You dress for me.”

I shook my head, trying to deny the truth of his words. Maddox moved. He pushed off the wall and stalked towards me. My breath hitched as I scurried back. My ass collided with the table; the sound of glasses clinking together and tumbling to the floor filled my ears. I jumped when one shattered on the hardwood near my feet.

Maddox fisted my hair, forcing my head back to look at him as he towered over me. My body quivered with anticipation as I waited to see what he would do. “Open your mouth, little dove, and tell me the words I want to hear.”

I pressed my lips together as I stared at his mouth. He’d never kissed me. Not once in all our time. It was like he was holding back, afraid to give that part of himself to me.

It seemed strange, given the things we’d already done. I’d swallowed his cum; it had covered my skin. He’d licked my pussy until I’d come on his tongue, but still, we’d never kissed.

“So fucking defiant.” He leaned forward, his lips trailing along the shell of my ear before lingering at my neck. Goosebumps broke out along my skin, making my nipples tighten behind the lace. “It’s because you want it. All the pain I’ve given you, and you still push back. Because you want more. You want me to hurt you. Make you come. Don’t you, little dove?”

I let out a shaky breath as my core clenched, but still, I said nothing. His lips closed around my neck. Maddox’s teeth sunk into my flesh as I cried out. The pain mixed with my arousal, heightening it. It wasn’t enough to break my skin. It was just shy of that.

I was so distracted by his lips, by the delicious pain, that I didn’t notice he’d reached down and picked up a piece of the broken glass. He pressed the jagged glass to my inner thigh. I felt it as it dug into my sensitive skin.

“Tell me you want me. You want me to cut up this beautiful body.” His other hand caressed down my side, his touch reverent. As if he was savoring the feeling of me against him as much as I was.

I stared into his eyes. Searching the dark blue pools for answers. Why was he so intense tonight? Why did he want me to admit it? It had been weeks since he’d obsessed over why I was here. Why he had brought me here. I’d started to think he didn’t want me to break. That he wanted me to stay.

But I found my answer in his eyes. This was it. This was the end. He might not kill me, but I would never come back here again. He was pushing me to break because he was ready to let me go.

It hurt.

It hurt more than any of the physical pain he’d given me. I was worthless. Nothing to him. I wanted this to be something. As much as I shouldn’t, I did. I wanted it to matter to him, like it mattered to me. I couldn’t tell him now. Not when he was ready to throw me away.

Instead of answering, I pressed further into his hold, letting the glass pierce my skin. I felt the warmth of my blood as it trickled down my thigh. The pain sliced into me, but it didn’t touch the ache in my chest.

“Cazzo.”Maddox swore and tossed away the glass. It shattered against the wall, little pieces glittering in the light. His hand pressed into the cut, crimson red running between his fingers. His eyes darkened as he looked at my blood. It certainly wasn’t the first time I’d bled with him. But it was the first time I’d inflicted the wound.

He was mad. Mad that I’d done it. That I’d take away the control. That I still refused to speak. His hand came to my neck, smearing my blood across my body.

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