Chapter 27
Millie
He’s in love with me.
The words echo in my head, a frantic, dizzying mantra as my fingers find the zipper of his firefighter’s uniform. The metal is cold against my heated skin.
He’s in love with me.
I peel the heavy fabric from his shoulders, the material whispering as it slides down his arms. He lets me, his hands hanging loose at his sides, his eyes locked on mine, dark and intense.
He’s in love with me.
My hands move to the hem of his T-shirt, a simple, worn thing that smells like him—sweat and snow and pine. I lift it, my knuckles brushing against the hard plane of his stomach. He raises his arms, and I pull it over his head, tossing it aside.
He’s in love with me.
I lean in, pressing my lips to the side of his neck. His skin is hot, his pulse a frantic beat against my tongue. I taste salt and something uniquely Maddox. My mouth trails a path down his throat, to the hollow of his collarbone, to the hard muscles of his chest.
“Fuck,” he says, his hands flying to my hair, his fingers tangling in the strands, holding me to him. The word is a harsh, broken sound, a testament to his fraying control.
I love that I can do this to him. I love that I can make him feel this way.
My hands explore his chest, his shoulders, the broad expanse of his back. I can feel the tension coiled in his muscles, the raw, barely leashed power that hums just beneath his skin. I want to unleash it. I want to see him let go.
“Millie,” he groans, his head falling back, exposing the long, vulnerable line of his throat.
I kiss him there, my tongue tracing the frantic beat of his pulse. I can feel his cock, pressing against my stomach. I want him. I want him with a desperation that scares me.
I pull back, my eyes meeting his. “I’m scared,” I confess, the words a raw, vulnerable whisper.
“Of what?” he asks, his hands cupping my face, his thumbs stroking my cheeks.
“Of the heat,” I say, my voice trembling. “Of what’s coming.”
“We’ll figure it out,” he promises, his gaze unwavering. “We’ll talk to Liam. We’ll figure out what needs to be done to get you through it. We care about you, Millie. Both of us.”
His words are a balm to my frayed nerves, a lifeline in the storm of my own fear. “Okay,” I whisper, leaning into his touch.
“I want to take you on a date,” he says, and the words are so unexpected, so tender, they make my heart ache.
I pause, my hands stilling on his chest. A date. This sweet, gentle boy, this man who’s been in love with me for years, wants to take me on a date.
“I never knew,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “How could I never know?”
He turns me in his arms, his lips finding my back, tracing the line of my spine, the constellation of freckles scattered across my shoulders. He kisses my hairline, my temple, the soft spot behind my ear.
“You are so beautiful.” His words are a warm caress against my skin.
And then he’s laying me down on the bed again, his body covering mine, his weight a welcome pressure. His mouth finds mine, and the kiss is different this time. Deeper. It’s not just about passion, not just about need. It’s about connection. It’s about love.
He reaches for his wallet, his movements clumsy, urgent. He pulls out a small, square packet, his fingers fumbling with the foil. I take it from him, my own hands shaking as I rip it open. I roll the condom onto his length.
He enters me slowly, his eyes locked on mine, watching my every reaction. It’s a tight fit, a delicious stretch that makes me gasp. He pauses, giving me time to adjust, his body trembling with the effort of holding back.
“Okay?” he asks, his voice a low, rough whisper.
I nod, my hands cupping his face, pulling him down for a kiss. “Okay.”
He starts to move, his hips rocking into mine in a gentle, searching rhythm. It’s not the frantic, desperate coupling I expected. It’s something else. Something more. It’s tender and sweet, and so incredibly intimate it makes my heart ache.
I’ve been with Liam. I know his body, know the way he moves, the way he feels.
But this is different. Liam is a fire, a wild, untamed force of nature.
Maddox is the earth, solid and strong and grounding.
They are both a part of me, and being with Maddox like this feels like coming home to a part of myself I didn’t know was missing.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks.
I hesitate, afraid to voice the truth, afraid to break the spell. But his eyes are so open, so honest, I can’t lie to him.
“I’ve had dreams,” I confess, my cheeks flushing with heat. “Dreams of you. Of both of you. With me.”
His breath hitches, his hips stilling. “Yeah?”
I nod, my eyes never leaving his. “Yeah.”
He curses, and then he’s moving again, his thrusts becoming harder, more demanding. I meet him stroke for stroke, my body arching to meet his, my nails digging into his back. The pleasure builds, a tight, coiling knot in my stomach, threatening to snap.
“Come for me, Millie,” he growls, his hand sliding between us, his fingers tapping on my clit.
And I do. I come with a cry, my body convulsing around him, a wave of pleasure so intense it whites out my vision. He follows me over the edge, his body shuddering, his face buried in my neck.
We lay there for a long time, tangled together, our breathing slowly returning to normal. He’s still inside me, a warm, heavy weight that I don’t want to let go of.
“I love you,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my hair.
“I love you too,” I say, and I realize it’s true. I have for a long time. I just didn’t know it.
I twist my hips, a final, clenching pulse around his cock as he pulls out. The feeling of emptiness is immediate, a hollow ache that has nothing to do with my body and everything to do with the space he just occupied.
I roll onto my side, a satisfied, languid smile touching my lips as I watch him dispose of the condom. He’s beautiful. All lean muscle and golden skin, a smattering of freckles across his shoulders that I want to trace with my tongue. His bruises have begun to fade.
He turns back to me, his expression soft and open. The vulnerability there makes my chest ache.
“Why didn’t you knot?” I ask, the question slipping out before I can stop it. It’s not an accusation, just genuine curiosity.
A small smile plays on his lips. “Did you want me to?”
I nod, my cheeks flushing. “A little.”
He sits on the edge of the bed, his back to me.
“I rarely do,” he admits, his voice quiet.
“I think... I think I was in too emotional of a state. An Alpha forms a knot when he’s primal, possessive.
When he’s claiming. What we just did... that wasn’t claiming.
It was...” He trails off, searching for the word.
“Making love,” I supply, my heart swelling.
He turns to look at me, his eyes warm. “Yeah. That.”
A smirk tugs at my lips. “So have you knotted someone before?”
“Millie,” he warns, but there’s no heat in it.
“Have you knotted Angela?” The question is out before I can bite it back, a flicker of something sharp and green that I immediately regret.
His expression shutters, just for a second, before he schools his features into a mask of neutrality. “Yes.”
The word is a punch to the gut, even though I have no right to feel it. “Are you two... dating?”
He shakes his head. “No. We were figuring things out, but... Angela knew. She knew I was in love with someone else.”
My breath catches. “She knew?”
“Yeah,” he says, a sad smile on his face. “She always knew.”
“That must suck.”
“It did,” he admits. “But she’s amazing. She deserves someone who can give her all of their heart.”
And I’m thinking of all the times we were together, the three of us.
Me and Liam, lost in our own little world, and Maddox, always there.
How many times had he watched us with that love in his eyes?
How many times had he swallowed his feelings, burying them under a layer of friendship and loyalty?
The thought is a physical pain, a sharp and twisting ache in my chest.
I crawl across the bed, my body moving on instinct. I press my lips to the warm skin of his throat, feeling his pulse flutter against my tongue. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, the words inadequate. “I’m so sorry I didn’t see it.”
“It’s okay,” he says, his hand coming up to cup the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair. “You weren’t supposed to.”
I pull back, my eyes searching his. “How do you think Liam is going to react to this?”
And that’s when it hits me. The full weight of what we’ve done. This isn’t just about me and Maddox. This is about Liam. About our pack. And in that moment, I realize this conversation, this revelation, is going to be so much harder than I anticipated.
Maddox seems to read my mind. “He’s in a volatile state right now,” he says, his tone gentle but firm. “With Arnold back in his life... maybe now’s not the right time to tell him.” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my temple. “But he’s going to smell me on you, Millie. He’s going to know.”
I nod, my throat tight. “I know.”
“How’s the heat feeling?” he asks, changing the subject, giving me a moment to breathe.
I think about it. The desperate, clawing need is gone at the moment, replaced by a warm, pleasant hum under my skin. “I think that last pill helped alleviate the symptoms.”
“Good,” he says, a wave of relief washing over him. “That buys us time.”
“Yeah,” I say, my hand finding his cock, still semi-hard and sticky against his stomach. “It does.”
“What are you doing?” he asks, his breath hitching as I stroke him, my thumb tracing the sensitive head.
I smile, wicked and confident. “I’m getting out of my head.” I slide down the bed, the sheets cool against my overheated skin. I settle between his legs, looking up at him through my lashes. “How about a little taste,” I purr, “and then we can take that bath?”
And then I’m taking him in my mouth.
He’s girthier than I imagined, a heavy, satisfying weight on my tongue. The taste of us, of him, is intoxicating. The musky flavor goes straight to my head. It feels so good to do this, to focus on him, on his pleasure, to get out of my own head and just feel.
His hands fly to my hair, his fingers pulling at the strands and holding me in place.
He’s not forceful. It’s more like a silent plea for more.
I take him deeper, my tongue swirling around the shaft, tracing the bulging vein that runs along the underside.
I can feel him getting harder, growing in my mouth, and a sense of power, of feminine pride, washes over me.
This is mine. This moment. This man. And I’m going to make him fall apart.