Chapter 23
Maddox
Pretty sure, we broke some kind of record getting back to my apartment. I have Ellie naked within seconds, pressed up against the front door, mouth dropping to her neck as I taste her sweet skin.
She rakes her hands through my hair, grinding herself against me.
Then she’s tugging at my T-shirt, and my lips have to break contact with her skin so she can get it over my head.
I take a second to stare at her beautiful face.
I don’t know what happened before with the panic attack, but fuck, I want to protect this girl with my dying breath. If anyone ever hurts her…
“Stop it, Mad,” she says sadly.
I blink, confused, because a millisecond ago she was undressing me. “Stop what, baby?”
“Looking at me like that. You’re thinking about my panic attack, aren’t you?”
I wince. “It did just cross my mind.”
“I knew it,” she says with a sigh.
I cup her jaw in my hand, tilting her head back so she’s focused only on me.
“Hey, I care about you, a whole fucking lot. Yes, if you have a panic attack, that concerns me and I want to protect you from anything in this world that might hurt you. But that is all you just saw on my face, baby, and you can tell me about it whenever you’re ready.
Don’t even think I’m looking at you differently because of it. ”
She nods, lip caught between her teeth. “I think it’s probably playing on my mind, and as much as I try not to let it…”
“You want to talk about it?”
She shakes her head. “No, but I think I should.”
I pick my T-shirt up off the floor and slip it over her head. “Then let’s talk.”
I lead her to the sofa and she sits beside me, her hand clasped in mine. She takes a deep breath. “There’s no easy way to do this, so I’m just going to come right out and say it, okay?”
I squeeze her hand, nervous as hell, because I already know this is bad.
When we met in Marrakech she told me about her childhood.
The hardships. Her mom dying when she was fifteen.
I always knew there was more, a pain behind her eyes that ran deeper than that, but I never pushed, sensing it was deeply personal. “I’m here. Not going anywhere.”
“The first time I had sex, it was a few weeks after my mom died. I was fifteen, and my father raped me.”
I freeze as she speaks those words, consumed with so many feelings.
Shock at hearing her say what I think I always suspected but never wanted to fully admit.
Awe at the amazing woman she has become despite her past. Admiration for her strength.
And absolute white-hot fucking fury at that piece of shit who hurt her.
I want to track him down right now and kill him with my bare hands.
I try to control it all. She doesn’t need me going all toxic alpha male right now.
She’s looking at me with those huge blue eyes of hers, examining my face.
Waiting for my reaction. I need to be careful here and give her what she needs.
To just fucking listen. She goes on to explain how it carried on until she was eighteen and only stopped when she fought back, hitting him over the head with a paperweight.
How she was terrified she thought she’d killed him, and then even more terrified when she realized she hadn’t.
She fled with her little siblings, and they ended up at a shelter in Chicago where she met her new family.
Her father is currently serving a long, but not long enough, prison sentence, making it much harder for me to get my hands on him.
Which is probably a good thing—for him and for me.
“I’m so fucking sorry you went through that, Ellie.”
She bites her lip, tears filling her bright blue eyes.
“I had years of therapy with the absolute best counselors. I put the work in. I had the world’s best support system in my adopted family.
I have never let it define me, and I never will.
I know that I have nothing to be ashamed of, but still, it’s not easy to tell people, you know? ”
I read her body language, her eyes searching mine for something. Approval? Assurance that she’s still the same woman she’s always been to me? Gently I pull her onto my lap, meeting no resistance, and then I circle her waist with my arms.
I can’t help but think of Mason and how ate-up with shame and guilt he was over what happened to him when he was seventeen, how strong he was dealing with all of that, and how much I admire his strength.
“I can only imagine how hard it is to talk about, baby. Because what he did is wrong on so many fucking levels, but none of that is on you, and I’m so fucking glad you know that.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m really glad you told me. Thank you for trusting me.”
“Maybe I should have told you sooner, but I didn’t want your pity. I don’t want anybody’s pity. People look at you differently once they know.”
“Am I looking at you differently?” I ask, hoping to fuck that I’m not.
She considers it, then gives a shake of her head. “I don’t think so.”
“I look at you the same way I always have Ellie. As my best friend, whom I love, and also an incredibly sexy woman I want to fuck.”
Shit, was that too much after what she just told me?
She arches an eyebrow. “Did you just say you love me?”
Shitfuck. “Yeah, I did. I do. But there’s no pressure to say it back, baby.”
She smiles, big and heartfelt, and it is the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.
It’s like the sun coming out after a terrible storm.
“I don’t think it was the orgasm talking the other day, Mad.
I love you too.” She edges closer, her head nestled onto my chest, and I’m filled with happiness and relief as I kiss her curls.
It dampens down the intense rage I feel for her father and what he did, enough that I can push that to one side for now.
“Promise you won’t feel sorry for me,” she says, her voice quiet.
I understand where she’s coming from. “Okay, but I can’t promise not to feel angry at your father, or sad for the girl he should have protected.
But I absolutely don’t pity you, baby. I promise that I see you as the strong capable woman I have always known you to be.
I promise that I won’t treat you any differently. ”
“Good. Because I’m not made of glass, and I won’t shatter. Sex with you kind of rocked my world, and I’d really like to do it as frequently as possible.”
She kisses the tattoo on my chest, wriggling her ass against me.
Shit. My cock jerks against her in response.
She hooks a leg over my hip, straddling me, only my boxers and sweatpants between me and her bare pussy.
“Show me how much you still want me, Mad,” she says, her breath dusting over my face.
I grind my hips, rubbing my solid length against the heat of her pussy. “Baby, you can feel what you do to me. I’m hard for you pretty much 24/7. I will never not want you. Now show me how much you want me.”
She obliges immediately, eyes shining with delight as she works her hand into my boxers and frees my aching cock. With her hands on my shoulders, she slides herself onto me, taking me inch by tantalizing inch, until I’m fully seated inside her. She feels like heaven. Hot and wet and snug as fuck.
“Is that what the kind of showing you were thinking of, sir?” she purrs, rolling her hips over me and squeezing my dick like a vise.
“Yeah,” I grunt out the word. “Christ, you’re fucking soaking for me, El.”
I pull the T-shirt off over her head again, suck one of her pebbled nipples into my mouth, and give her a gentle bite that makes her whine. This girl is mine, and I will never let anyone hurt her ever again.