Maddox
She kept her stockings on as she walked toward the bed. I drew in a slow breath, catching the lingering scent of her on my face, the taste of her still on my tongue. I worked on the buttons of my shirt, forcing myself to breathe steadily through the urgency clawing up my spine.
Stella didn’t make restraint easy. She climbed onto the bed and crawled toward the middle, her movements unhurried and deliberate. When she finally lowered herself, her face pressed into the sheets and her hips lifted high, waiting.
My jaw tightened as I stripped out of my clothes faster.
I stepped to the bed to finish removing my trousers, tossing her phone onto the mattress.
“Message your parents that you’re staying over at a friend’s house.”
“I don’t have friends.”
I winced.
Damnit. I knew that.
“Work colleague then.”
By the time I was naked, she was still composing the message. I climbed onto the bed behind her, letting her feel me against her as I slipped between her thighs. My hand closed around her hip as I rocked slowly, deliberately.
Her breath hitched. Her thumbs moved quickly over the screen before she shut the phone off and pushed it aside.
I glanced down between us. Her body moved instinctively against mine, her hips meeting my rhythm as soft sounds escaped her. I gripped her hips more firmly, guiding her until she shifted forward and braced herself on her elbows.
The more I moved against her, the more she responded.
“You get to scream as loud as you want here,” I murmured, aware of how tightly controlled her life had been. “Use all those filthy words you wanted.”
I leaned forward, brushing her hair aside so I could scatter kisses along her back. She groaned softly and shifted again, trying to trap me between her thighs.
“My good girl,” I murmured, easing back as I guided myself to her entrance.
I hissed quietly when her warmth closed around me. Weeks of imagining this moment had done nothing to prepare me for the reality of it.
Her small sounds grew louder.
“Please,” she whispered.
She’d been relieving herself with fingers, carrots and bananas. Anything she could get her hands on. Her mother had found her vibrator and thrown it in the bin, but not before shaming her for it.
I sank a little deeper, feeling her muscles desperately grip me as if I would leave her. I snaked a hand around her thigh, feeling her stocking as I began to thrust harder.
“Yes, you’re opening up beautifully,” I rasped.
Her heat surrounded me and she was tight. Those muscles clung to me with each thrust. Her hands gripped the bedding as she began to move with me, using my dick.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted. “Oh, there. Yes.”
I could feel the sweat begin to bead on my body. My restraint wouldn’t last long. The more I fucked her, the more she soaked my dick and proved how much she needed me. I released her thigh and pressed my hand to her shoulder, pushing her down.
There were no words, only sounds of us as I started to pound her pussy. The wet slaps, her cries of pleasure and my grunts of effort. She didn’t complain that I was too big or too rough.
No.
She took it all and wet my balls to boot.
With each deep thrust her ass cheeks bounced against me. My balls smacked her pussy again and again. I gathered her hair and pulled her up until her back arched. She held herself steady on her hands.
“I know what you need, Stella,” I grunted, hammering into her and moving my hand to her shoulder.
I used my grip to hold her in position. There was no escape.
Her pussy began to flutter and I knew she was close.
“Give it to me,” I growled, driving my hips forward.
“Maddox,” she wailed as her cunt locked down on me.
The rest of her words were ripped up between cries and a long strangled moan.
Fuck.
The rapid contractions and gush of her come made me his. Her soft cries echoed around us. I held myself inside her while she milked me. My fingers tightened on her shoulder, holding her in place when the first jet of come shot inside her.
“Yes. Oh god,” she cried. “I can feel it.”
My eyes never left her as I continued to fill her up.
We fit together harmoniously.
This time I had to get it right.
Failure wasn’t an option.
?
?
?
She was bathed, fed, and back in bed. When I pulled the covers back, she looked up at me shyly, her lashes lowering for a moment before she met my eyes again. The sight stirred something sharp in my chest. It only served to piss me off more when I thought about everything that had been done to her.
I slid beneath the covers and tugged them up around her shoulders, making sure she was tucked in properly.
“Can you hold me, please?”
Her voice was small and uncertain, so different from the bold, reckless woman who had been testing every corner of the room earlier.
I didn’t hesitate. My arms closed around her immediately, drawing her against my chest. She snuggled into me with a soft sigh, her body settling as though she had finally found a place where it was safe to rest.
“Always,” I promised quietly.
Her day had begun at five in the morning, just to escape her parents’ house without suspicion. Earlier than I had planned, but this needed to be her choice. Every step had to feel like something she was walking into willingly.
“Why don’t you move in with me? It’s a big old house,” I murmured casually, as if the thought had just crossed my mind.
Her head lifted sharply from my chest. The movement pulled her hair across my arm, and I could see the dark circles beneath her eyes when she looked at me.
“Can’t you get disbarred or something like that?” she asked sceptically, one eyebrow arching.
A smile tugged at my mouth.
“Who knows that I’m your therapist?” I asked.
Her lips parted as the thought landed. I watched the moment the pieces started to connect.
“You’ve never been to my office,” I continued, rubbing my jaw thoughtfully, “and your parents have never paid me.”
Her eyes widened.
“Which means you owe me.”
She shook her head at that, but the stubbornness didn’t last long. Her eyelids were already drooping, the exhaustion finally catching up to her.
“Go to sleep,” I said softly. “You can make it up to me later.”
She grumbled something under her breath that I couldn’t quite make out, but her hand slid up to rest at the back of my neck. I pulled her closer, tightening my hold slightly.
It wasn’t only sex she’d been deprived of.
It was touch.
Simple things. Holding someone. Being held.
The irony of it all wasn’t lost on me. Society loved its moral outrage, loved shaming women into silence.
And in doing so it created something far worse—a desperate hunger to be loved, to be wanted, to be seen.
More often than not that hunger pushed women straight into the arms of men who were more than happy to exploit it.
Not my Stella.
I pressed a kiss to her cheek and watched the small smile that appeared even in her half-asleep state. After a moment I reached over and dimmed the lights, letting the room sink into a soft, quiet darkness.
I’d wake her as soon as she’d had a little rest.