18. Madelyn
I never thought I’d be in this position.
When I boarded the plane to California, I thought I was finally leaving behind the cruel life I had lived in Alabama.
I thought distance would be enough. That if I put enough miles between myself and that house, I could finally breathe.
But nevertheless, my past followed me here.
And as much as my life in California is the closest thing I’ve ever had to normal, I never imagined I’d be sitting here telling someone the truth.
Not the watered down version or the version I’ve carefully crafted to make myself seem less fucked up, but the whole truth.
Especially not to the man I think I’m falling for.
And yet, here I am.
“Before I moved here, I killed my father.”
The words leave my mouth, and there’s no taking them back.
Miles doesn’t say anything, he just stares at me.
I stare back, waiting for something. Anger, fear, disgust—literally anything.
But nothing comes. For a moment we just sit there in complete silence.
I don’t know what else to say. I’ve spent so long keeping this secret, hiding it away like if I never spoke the words out loud, they wouldn’t become real.
But they are, and now he knows, so I just give him a second to process.
Miles finally looks away, breaking our connection, and I feel sick.
This is it, this is where my demons finally catch up to me.
He’s going to turn me in, and I’m going to rot in a cell for the crimes I’ve committed.
I’ll lose everything I’ve built here, I’ll lose him, and I’ll spend the rest of my life paying for the worst moment of mine.
He runs a hand over his face before dragging both hands through his long hair.
It’s grown so much since the last time I saw him.
I hate how much I notice the little things about him, even now.
Every night before I went to bed, I’d think about him.
How much I’ve missed him, how it felt when I pulled his hair while his face was buried between my legs, fucking everything.
His tongue brushes over his bottom lip as he thinks, and I have to force myself to not imagine all the places he’s ran that tongue over my body, but it’s no use.
Images of how I’ve touched myself every night to the memory of how his tongue flicked perfectly against my clit rushes to the forefront, lighting my insides on fire.
The way his tongue circled and lapped up everything I had to offer him while he pumped his fingers inside me.
Fuck, I’d give anything to feel that again.
“Okay,” he finally says quietly.
I blink. “Okay?” That’s all he has?
“How?” he asks.
My brows pull together. “What?”
“How’d you do it?”
The question throws me off. I expected so much more than this. Him pulling away, being angry with me, seeing me differently. But this? I was not expecting curiosity. Do I really want to tell him?
Well shit, I might as well. I’ve already gotten this far. I guess confessing all of my sins wouldn’t hurt.
“My father was abusive. My mom killed herself to escape him. She couldn’t take it anymore. After she was gone, everything got worse. The abuse carried on to me.”
Miles’ expression changes, and I hate that I can see the pain there.
“He was mostly mentally abusive. He only beat me once, but that was enough. I reported him and he never touched me again after that, but I spent years wondering if he would.”
I look down at my hands, twisting my fingers together like I always do when I’m anxious.
“When I graduated high school, I knew I couldn’t stay.
I got accepted into this school, and I had a plan to disappear and start over.
” I look back up at Miles. “I had no intention of killing him, I swear I didn’t.
But he woke up. He chased me out of the house, through the woods that lined our home and I was afraid that—”
I choke up, the tears freely running down my face as I relive the scariest moment of my life.
“I was afraid that if I didn’t kill him, he would kill me, too.” My voice cracks, and I force myself to look at him. “The way he killed my mom.”
Miles takes in my words, his expression unreadable as he processes everything I’ve just confessed.
The silence that follows is unbearable. My heart pounds against my chest, and for a moment, I wonder if I made a mistake.
Maybe I should have kept it buried. They always say some things are better left unsaid.
But I’m tired of carrying this weight alone, and running from the person I had to become to survive.
“I understand,” he finally says.
I let out a small, humorless laugh because those two words feel impossible.
“You understand?”
He nods slowly. “You did what you had to do, and I’m glad you did. I would have done it myself.”
The words hit me hard. I wasn’t expecting this kind of reaction from him.
For him to look at me and still see his Mads, not a murderer or a monster, just me.
The tears come harder, and suddenly I realize how long I’ve been holding them back.
How much I’ve needed someone to tell me I wasn’t defined by the worst moment of my life.
He holds out his arms, and in that second, everything seems to shift.
I look at him with entirely different eyes.
Grateful, loving, and worshiping eyes. I throw myself into him, crashing into his chest. He catches me instantly, wrapping his arms around me and holding me so tight, it steals the breath from my lungs.
I feel nothing but comfort and warmth, and somehow, raw undenying lust.
Pulling away from his embrace, I look into his eyes, already knowing what I’m going to do next. Before either of us can say anything else, I crush my lips against his.
The grip on my waist tightens as he pulls me in closer, his mouth parting as I snake my tongue inside, finding his and wrapping mine around it in a lustful embrace. Teeth graze my bottom lip, and I detonate.
My fingers find the hem of his shirt, tugging impatiently until he gets the hint.
He lifts his arms without breaking our kiss, and I waste no time pulling the fabric over his head and tossing it aside.
A second later, he returns the favor, sliding my shirt over my head before letting it fall somewhere behind us.
His hands settle on my hips before slipping lower, gripping my ass firmly as he lifts me effortlessly.
I let out a surprised gasp that dies against his lips as I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist. My fingers disappear into his hair, threading through the dark strands before giving them a gentle tug.
A quiet sound escapes him, and I can’t resist smiling against his mouth.
I catch his bottom lip between my teeth, biting down just enough to make him feel it before soothing it with another kiss.
The familiar metallic tang blooms across my tongue, and instead of pulling away, I savor it, the taste only making my pulse race faster.
Miles walks us to his bed, kissing me like his life depends on it.
His grip tightens on my ass the harder he kisses me and I can’t help the moan that slips into his mouth.
We fall onto the bed, the weight of him above me comforting and familiar.
He unbuttons my jeans, tugging them down my legs and exposing my black lace panties to him.
The look on his face when he sees them is enough to set my entire being on fire.
“Fuck Maddie, you’re so fucking stunning, baby,” he moans, as he unbuttons his jeans, letting them pool at his ankles.
The bulge in his tight black briefs has my mouth salivating, and I wonder how it would feel against my tongue. He kisses up my leg until his face meets my lace covered pussy, kissing just above it.
God, I’ve missed the feeling of him between my thighs. I just want to feel more of him. All of him. The thought ripples through my entire body, leaving every nerve ending buzzing until I feel it in my toes.
Miles slides my lace panties to the side, licking directly up my clit, causing my toes to curl.
“Oh my God,” I moan, and I feel him chuckle against me as he continues to kiss up my stomach to my chest.
He buries his face in my neck and devours me, nibbling and kissing, sending me into a frenzy of lust and desire. He picks himself back up to give me another passionate kiss before diving into his bedside drawer and pulling out a little metallic wrapper.
Miles looks back down at me, a slow smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. It doesn’t take an experienced person to know what this means, and I answer with a hurried nod, my heart pounding against my ribs.
I want this.
God, I need this.
I need to feel him inside me in more ways than just my heart. Because let's face it, he’s wriggled his way in. No matter how hard I tried to keep him at arms length, he’s broken through every wall I’ve built around myself, settling somewhere deep beneath my skin, and I’m ready for the fall.
Almost as if to tease me, Miles slowly pulls my panties down my legs, tossing them off the bed. He stands there and drops his briefs, his erection bouncing free, long and hard, and I gulp at the sheer size of him. This man is going to fucking ruin me.
I watch with lustful eyes as he rips the condom wrapper with his teeth, placing the rubber on the tip of his cock and rolling it back until he’s fully sheathed.
Miles crawls his way back on top of me, kissing me deeply, our tongues intertwining as he rubs the head of his cock up and down my entrance.
“You’re so fucking wet for me already, baby,” he moans as he watches himself slide up and down against my clit. I lift my hips, seeking the friction I so desperately need.
“Already so needy for me, I see,” he chuckles. “Are you ready?”
Like an idiot, I nod quickly, way too eager for my own good. I don’t want to wait any longer. I just want him to take me.
Slowly, he eases the tip inside me and I gasp at the intrusion.
“Oh my god!” I scream and he stills, his eyes filled with concern.