Maddy
MADDY
M ihai hovers above me, his dark curls falling across his forehead, his lips slightly parted as if he’s about to speak but hasn’t found the words yet. His gaze is intense, like he’s studying me, memorizing every freckle, every curve, every little detail.
“Still with me?” His voice is soft, soothing, and laced with just a hint of mischief.
I want to respond, but my voice catches in my throat. Instead, I nod, my trust in him overwhelming.
“Words, baby,” he says, a low growl that makes my core clench. “I need to hear them.”
“Yes,” I reply softly. “I’m here. I want to try, Mihai. I trust you.”
His lips twitch into a smirk, but there’s something tender beneath it.
“Good,” he murmurs, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. “That’s all I need to hear.”
He reaches for a scarf from the nightstand, the silk slipping between his fingers like liquid, and he holds it up for me to see.
“This is going to keep your hands out of trouble,” he says, the teasing note in his voice making me bite my lip. “But it’s also a promise—I’ll take care of you.”
I nod, whispering, “Okay.”
“Wrist,” he says and I hesitate for half a second, then extend my hand. His fingers wrap around my wrist, gentle but firm, and he ties the scarf securely but not too tight. It’s enough to hold me, to keep me present.
The first wrist is tied to the headboard, and then the second follows. I test the restraints instinctively, the silk smooth and soft against my skin.
“Comfortable?” he asks.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He presses a kiss to my temple, lingering for a beat longer than necessary. Then he grabs a blindfold—matching black silk—and holds it up.
“This too?” he asks softly, waiting for my consent.
I nod, my voice steady. “Yes.”
The world goes dark as the blindfold slips over my eyes, shutting out the light, the room, everything. The absence of sight heightens everything else—the whisper of his footsteps on the floor, the faint rustle of fabric as he moves.
I’m hyper-aware of my breathing, of the way my chest rises and falls faster than usual. Even the scent of his cologne seems stronger now.
“Stay with me,” he murmurs, his fingers grazing my jaw as he places soft, fleeting kisses along my neck. “I’ve got you.”
The bed dips as he moves, and I hear the rustle of something near the nightstand. There’s a moment of quiet, then the sensation of cool metal slipping over my ears. Headphones. I hear a faint click, and then his voice fills my ears.
“Can you hear me, baby?” His voice surrounds me, intimate and commanding, as if he’s speaking directly into my soul.
“Yes,” I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Good girl,” he says, and I can’t help the way my body responds to those words. “If you need me to stop, if it’s overwhelming, you just say ‘red.’ Got it?”
“Got it,” I reply, the words trembling on my lips.
The first touch is light, like a feather brushing against my forearm. I flinch at the sensation, my breath catching, and I hear him chuckle softly through the headphones.
“Easy,” he says. “Feel it, don’t fight it.”
I exhale slowly, trying to let go of the tension coiled in my muscles. The feather glides up my arm, across my collarbone, and down the other arm. It’s such a simple thing, but it feels like my skin is on fire, every nerve ending heightened by the lack of sight and sound.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, the feather now trailing along my collarbone. “Every inch of you.”
I squirm slightly at his words, my cheeks heating. “Mihai…”
“Shh,” he soothes, his voice a melody of command and care. “Let me take care of you. Just feel.”
The feather disappears, and I feel him move. Then, something warm touches my skin—wax? No, not wax, some type of oil? I gasp as it drips onto my stomach and slips down, the heat sharp for a moment before it cools. The scent of strawberries fill the room after.
“You’re doing so well, baby, don’t overthink,” he praises, his tone dripping with pride. “So fucking perfect.”
The sensation lingers, warm and soothing, and then I feel the heat of his breath against my skin. I shiver as his lips press softly to the spot where the wax—or oil—had dripped, his tongue following in a slow, deliberate stroke.
“Delicious,” he hums and I let out a shaky breath, my cheeks burning at his words.
“You don’t have to talk like that,” I say, but my voice wavers, betraying how much his praise affects me.
“Oh, but I do. Look how well you’re handling this,” he purrs and I just know my entire body is red by now.
I can feel him everywhere. His lips press against my collarbone, and the scrape of his teeth makes me gasp. My body arches toward him, desperate for more, and I hear his soft chuckle, smug and possessive.
“You’re the sweetest kind of torture, pet.”
Heat floods my cheeks at his words, and I bite my bottom lip to keep from squirming. His praise is doing things to me, making me feel seen in a way I never have before.
He moves back and the air feels cool against my heated skin. I feel him moving again, and my heart pounds at the anticipation.
The next sensation is a soft, firm pressure gliding along my forearm, smooth and deliberate. It’s a roller of some sort, cool and soothing against the remnants of the oil.
“How does that feel?” he asks, his voice softer now, almost tender.
“It’s... nice,” I reply, a small smile tugging at my lips. “I didn’t think I’d like it.”
“You’d be surprised what you like when you trust someone,” he replies, his voice laced with meaning.
The roller moves lower, tracing patterns along my thighs, and I can feel the tension leaving my body, replaced by a sense of calm I haven’t felt in months.
“You’re so strong, you know that?” he says, his tone sincere. “After everything you’ve been through, you’re still here. Still fighting.”
The lump in my throat rises faster than I can push it down. His words dig into me, peeling back layers I didn’t know I’d built around myself. I blink rapidly under the blindfold, my breathing shaky.
“I’m trying,” I manage to say, my voice cracking just slightly.
“You’re doing more than trying,” he counters. “That’s strength, . You have no idea how much I admire you.”
My breath stutters at the raw emotion in his voice. His praise feels like a balm, soothing parts of me that have felt broken for so long.
I don’t know how to respond, so I stay quiet, focusing on the way his hands follow the roller, pressing gently into my skin, reassuring me with every touch. The tension that has been coiled in my chest for weeks starts to unravel, bit by bit.
“Comfortable?” he asks.
“Yes,” I whisper, surprised at how much I mean it.
“Good,” he says, and I hear the faint smile in his voice. “I want you to let go for me, pet. Trust me.”
My breath hitches. There it is again, that word. Pet. The way he says it—soft and possessive—makes my stomach flutter in ways I can’t explain. I nod, unable to find the words to tell him how much I trust him.
His hands now glide over my chest, down my arms, and back to my waist. Every movement is deliberate, slow, like he’s mapping me out.
“I can feel every little shiver, beautiful. You don’t even need to speak for me to understand exactly what you want.”
My breath hitches, and I bite my bottom lip to keep from smiling too wide. He notices, of course he does. Mihai doesn’t miss anything.
“None of that,” he says, his thumb brushing against my lip. “I want all of you. Smiles, tears, laughter—whatever you’ve got, give it to me.”
The roller returns, this time trailing up the inside of my arm, and my body instinctively reacts, goosebumps rising everywhere. His voice keeps me tethered, reminding me that I’m safe.
“You have no idea how fucking stunning you are like this. Helpless, trusting, and all mine.”
I don’t think I’ve ever been praised like this, not in a way that felt genuine, not in a way that made me believe it. My chest tightens, but it’s not the bad kind of tight. It’s the kind that comes when someone sees you for who you are and still thinks you’re worth something.
His hands leave me for a moment, then I feel cool spiked metal touch my collarbone, and I flinch, the sensation sharp but not painful. It’s followed by the warmth of his hand, grounding me.
“Easy, baby,” he murmurs. “Just me.”
The spiked roller glides lower, tracing slow, deliberate patterns along the soft skin of my belly. Every sensation feels sharper, more vivid, without my sight to ground me. The tiny pricks of pressure don’t hurt—they’re a distraction, a release.
When it dips lower, over the curve of my hip, my breath stutters. Mihai chuckles, low and pleased.
“You’re so responsive,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “It’s like your body was made to be worshipped.”
A soft, strangled laugh escapes me, and I shake my head. “Worshipped? Mihai, I’m not?—”
“Don’t,” he interrupts gently. His hand moves to cradle my jaw, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “Don’t downplay yourself. Not with me. You’re everything, . My own personal Goddess. I’d worship this body every damn day and it still wouldn’t feel like enough.”
His words make my chest tighten, not with anxiety. I turn my face slightly, leaning into his touch. “Why are you so good at this?” I ask, my voice tinged with wonder.
“Because you make it easy,” he replies, his tone low and intimate. “You trust me. That’s all I need.”
I feel the bed dip as he moves and then settles in between my legs, then I gasp when he runs something warm and wet over my clit. His tongue.
“Oh, baby, you’re soaked for me,” he purrs and I squirm slightly under his touch when he lightly flicks his tongue against my core.
“Stay still, pet,” he stills me with a firm hand on my waist. “Let me take care of you.”
I nod, trusting him completely. The next sensation is unexpected—a light vibration against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. I gasp, my body jerking slightly, and I hear his soft chuckle.
He trails the vibrator along my inner thigh and I’m hyper-aware of how close to my cunt he is. It’s soothing and exhilarating all at once, and I find myself leaning into the sensation, my body craving more.
“M-Mihai…”
“Shhh, just breathe through it. You’re doing so well,” he praises, then he pushes the vibrator against my clit and I let out a strangled scream.
“Fuck, there it is,” he groans. “I swear, you’re going to ruin me, baby.”
He moves the vibrator lower and pushes it inside of me, then I feel him lean over me and I gasp when he flicks his tongue over my nipple. It’s too fast for me to appreciate the feeling, but then he does it again and I can’t help but moan.
“That sound? Keep making it—I fucking need it,” he says as he continues to tease my nipples with his tongue, then he pulls away from my chest, and a single droplet of heat drops onto my nipple.
I gasp at the sensation, but it fades almost instantly, replaced by cool air that feels almost soothing against my skin.
“You’re trembling so sweetly for me, Madison. I can feel how much you trust me, and it’s fucking intoxicating.”
The use of my first name makes me pause. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him saying it like that before and, God, I want to hear him say it again.
Another drop lands on my chest, and this time I’m ready. I don’t flinch, even as the warmth spreads over my skin. Mihai hums his approval in my ear, the sound sending a shiver through me.
“That’s my girl,” he says, and my heart swells at the pride in his tone. “You’re doing so well. Can you take more?”
“Y-yes,” I whimper and I swear I can feel him grinning. “Please… more.”
Mihai chuckles low, the sound vibrating against my skin. “Look at you, my Little Rebel. Taking everything I give you and begging for more,” he murmurs, just as a few drops land over the curve of my breast, the warmth searing in the most tantalizing way.
My body tenses for a second, but then it fades into a gentle, almost addictive warmth and I arch my back, moaning.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Do you have any idea what you do to me? The way you arch, the way you melt under my touch—it drives me out of my goddamn mind.”
Another drop falls, this time on my inner thigh, but the sensation is different there—more intimate—and I can’t stop the sharp inhale that escapes me. Mihai immediately pauses, his hand resting on my hip.
“Too much?”
I shake my head quickly. “No… it’s good. Please, Mihai.”
“You take everything so beautifully,” he praises, his voice a husky whisper. “I could do this all night, but I think this is enough for one evening.”
I can’t stop the sounds and pleas coming out of my mouth and I have no idea how loud I’m being. All I know is I’m about to fucking explode from sensory overload and my legs are starting to shake.
“Are you close, baby?” he asks and when I whimper a ‘yes’ I can feel him moving down the bed again. He slips out the vibrator, then his mouth is on my cunt again.
I pull at the silk restraints when another scream slips from my lips, and it only takes three swipes of his tongue over my clit for me to completely shatter.
“Breathe for me,” he murmurs as my orgasm crests. “In… and out. Just like that, Madison.”
I do as he says, letting the tension melt away with each exhale. The silk around my wrists feels less like a restraint and more like a safety net; a reminder that he’s in control and that I’m safe.
The headset and blindfold come off, and I blink, adjusting to the light. Mihai’s face is the first thing I see—his dark, intense eyes watching me carefully, his jaw tight but his expression soft.
“Mihai,” I breathe, the sound of his name laced with both a plea and surrender.
“You were perfect,” he growls as he cups my face. “Look at you. You’re a masterpiece, pet. I could spend forever exploring every inch of you.”
And for the first time… I actually believe I am.
His hands move with careful precision, his fingers warm and sure as he unties the silk restraints from my wrists, my body hypersensitive to every brush of his fingers
“You did so well,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. His hands move to my wrists, rubbing gentle circles into the skin and then kissing them. I hadn’t even realized how tight I’d been holding them until now, the warmth of his touch coaxing me to relax.
“Does anything feel too tight? Any pain?” he asks, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard it. His brows knit with concern as he kneads the stiff muscles in my wrists.
I shake my head, unable to speak just yet, but he’s not satisfied with that. He leans in closer, his dark eyes locking onto mine.
“Madison,” he says. “I need words, baby. Did anything hurt? Are you sore?”
I swallow, my voice coming out a little hoarse. “No… I mean, yes, but not in a bad way. It’s… I feel good. Just… sensitive.”
His lips twitch into the faintest smile, relief softening the tension in his shoulders. “Sensitive is good,” he murmurs, his fingers trailing down my forearms to my elbows, massaging out any lingering tightness. “I’m going to take care of you now, okay?”
I nod and look down at my body, then I frown. “You didn’t use wax?”
He shakes his head and chuckles. “No, baby. I used a massage oil candle. I didn’t think it would be wise to start off with wax right off the bat.”
My heart flutters at the care in his tone, and I nod, letting myself sink further into the mattress. He reaches for a damp lukewarm cloth and begins wiping away the remnants of the oil.
“You don’t have to do all this,” I whisper, though my voice barely holds conviction. The sensation of his hands on me, the way he’s looking at me—it’s grounding me in a way I didn’t know I needed.
“Of course I do,” he says, his dark eyes meeting mine briefly. “You trusted me. That’s not something I take lightly, Madison.”
My breath hitches at the way he says my name, and I watch as he reaches for a small bottle of aloe vera. He warms it between his hands before pressing it into my skin, his fingers firm but tender as they massage the balm into the areas the oil had touched.
Each stroke of his hands feels like an apology and a promise. He treats every part of me like I’m something precious, something worth cherishing.
“So… Madison, hey?” I ask, my cheeks warming.
Mihai grins. “Did me using your name do something to you, baby?”
“Shut up,” I pout and he laughs. “You’re way too good at this. Should I be jealous?”
He chuckles, low and rich, the sound vibrating through me. “Gotta take care of my girl, don’t I?” The words are casual, but the way he says my girl makes my cheeks heat. “And no, you have no reason to feel jealous. I’ve only ever done this with you.”
My heart warms at that, and I’m not sure how to respond to it, so I just watch as he works his way up my arms. His touch is firm enough to ease the tension but soft enough to feel intimate. When he gets to my shoulders, he pauses, his hands resting there for a moment.
“You’re incredible, you know that?”
I blink up at him, caught off guard. “I’m not sure that’s the right word.”
He smirks, leaning down until his face is just inches from mine. “It’s the only word that fits. You were perfect tonight, . Brave, beautiful, and so fucking strong.”
My lips part to respond, but nothing comes out. How do you argue with someone when they look at you like you hung the damn moon?
Mihai doesn’t give me a chance to overthink it. He shifts me gently, his hands sliding down to my hips as he turns me onto my stomach.
“Relax for me,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “I’m going to make sure you’re completely taken care of.”
I do as he says, resting my head on my folded arms. The bed dips as he moves, straddling the back of my thighs. His weight is grounding, his presence a comfort I didn’t realize I needed until now.
When he finishes with my arms, he moves to my shoulders, kneading the tension out of the muscles there before pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
“You’re quiet,” he says, his tone teasing but soft. “Not like my usual chatterbox. Did I break you, ?”
I roll my eyes, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Maybe I’m just plotting my revenge.”
He chuckles. “Good luck with that, just no pouncing on me in the morning again, okay?”
“Oh, my god, you’re never going to let me live that down, are you?’ I grumble.
“Not a chance,” he continues the massage, his hands gliding down my spine, over the curves of my hips, and back up again. Each stroke is careful, reverent, like he’s memorizing every inch of me.
By the time he finishes, my body feels like it’s floating, every muscle loose and pliant and I feel like I could melt into the bed.
“Okay, you’re too quiet,” he remarks again. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”
“Just… processing,” I admit softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “This. You. Everything.”
He smirks, leaning down to brush his lips against my shoulder. “Am I overwhelming you, ?”
“A bit,” I say honestly, my lips curving into a small smile. “But in a good way.”
His chuckle is low and warm, vibrating against my skin. “Good. I like keeping you on your toes.”
When he’s finished, he turns me on my back and sits back on his heels, his gaze sweeping over me.
“There,” he says softly. “All done. How do you feel?”
I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I feel… lighter,” I admit, the words coming out more honestly than I intended. “Like I’ve let go of something I didn’t even know I was holding onto.”
His eyes soften, and he leans down to press a lingering kiss to my forehead. “Good,” he murmurs. “That’s exactly what I wanted for you.”
I reach up, my fingers brushing against his curls, and he leans into my touch like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice filled with a gratitude I can’t fully express.
He smiles, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “Always, baby.”
For a moment, we just stay there, wrapped in the quiet intimacy of the moment. Then he shifts, pulling the blanket over us as he settles beside me. His arm drapes over my waist, pulling me close, and I can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my back.
“Sleep,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against my temple. “You’ve earned it.”
As I lay there, my body buzzing with a mix of emotions and sensations, I realize just how deeply I trust him.
Mihai isn’t just my protector—he’s my sanctuary.