I bury my face deeper between her legs and simply bask in the heady fragrance of her arousal. Nothing has ever smelled or tasted sweeter, and when she shuffles away, embarrassed by her unconcealed exposure to my mouth and eyes, I latch onto her thigh, throw her other leg over my shoulder, and fasten my mouth to her glorious pussy.
She moans in approval and relaxes her body, slackening under my gentle sucks and licks. Pushing her leg out further, she’s spread out in front of me, her pinkness glistening with her desire. I lick up her entrance, and then down, and she cries out when I insert my tongue, twirling it within her writhing body.
“Oh…my…God,” she gasps, taking a breath between each word.
Her pleasure spurs me on and I dive in deeper, sucking, licking, biting, and worshiping her until Madison is shamelessly fucking my face, her body trembling under every demanding stroke I deliver. She’s totally exposed, but yet it’s not enough, so I insert a finger, opening her up so I can gain full access to her heat.
Her tiny whimpers grow louder as I impale her over and over again with my tongue and finger, and when she subtly raises her hips, begging me to get her off, I take her clit into my mouth and suck hard. She thrashes about uncontrollably and screams out her release, her second orgasm ripping through her like a forest fire, her flesh scorching my mouth and tongue.
I growl the moment I taste her coming, lapping at her juices, not able to get enough. She writhes and moans, and as I regretfully slow down my licking, she comes down from her orgasmic high with a satiated groan.
I pull away, watching the goddess in front of me take a minute to catch her breath. Her flushed appearance has my dick throbbing in absolute desire. But this was about Madison, not me, and watching her come undone because of my actions was more of a turn-on than actually having sex. I’ve never wanted to please anyone as much as I have her, and after tasting her, I’m addicted.
Madison’s eyes flutter open, her green jewels heavy and lust-laden.
“Hi,” I say, unable to keep the smile off my face as I crawl up her body.
“Hi,” she replies, her voice husky and hoarse.
I lie beside her, giving her some room because I don’t want to crowd her, as I’m unsure how she’ll respond to what went down between us. But she surprises me when she fists my collar and yanks me toward her, smashing her lips to mine. I kiss her back with as much enthusiasm, and when I slip in my tongue, she pulls back, covering her mouth with her hand.
“What’s the matter?” I ask, puzzled.
With flushed cheeks, she replies, “I can taste…me, on…you,” she manages to get out without turning into a complete tomato.
“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” I reply with a smirk. “I’m not sure how I’ll survive without your taste. One sip and I’m already addicted.”
Madison lowers her eyes, and I wonder what’s going through that pretty little head of hers to sour the mood.
“What’s wrong?”
“I-I don’t want you to survive without it,” she confesses before covering her face with her hands.
With a chuckle, I uncover her face. “Well, neither do I. I’m quite certain I’ll perish without it.”
I’m trying to lighten the mood, because what just happened between us was beautiful.
“So what now?” she asks nervously, turning on her side and leaning into her palm.
“I see there being only one answer.”
“And what’s that?” she quickly counters, her chest beginning to rise rapidly.
“You let me do that, every day from here on forward,” I reply, not seeing any point in being indirect.
Madison smirks. “I think I can handle that.”
“Yeah?” I ask, brushing a lock of hair off her brow.
“Yeah,” she affirms. “Oh, I know this is probably not the best time, but I broke up with David.” She shyly bites her lip.
I clench my jaw, his name like a kick to my balls. However, the context in which she’s used it has me smiling happily. “Good, because if you hadn’t broken up with him, I would be forced to do it for you. And I would be doing a lot more than just breaking up with him. I would be breaking his nose as well,” I add, while Madison playfully rolls her eyes.
“So it’s official? We’re actually doing this?”
I nod.
She looks to be pondering on her next sentence. “Can we take it slow? I mean, tonight was the first time I opened up emotionally, and physically,” she adds with a blush.
“We’ll take it as slow as you want to go. I’m here with you, every step of the way. I promise.”
“I’m messed up, Dixon.”
“So am I,” I confess. I can’t erase my past, but I sure as shit can try and make amends. I can try and make amends for my man-whoring ways, and also, for being an awful son.
“I can’t promise I won’t push you away when things get heated, or too intense. But I’ll try my best. I really want this to work.”
“So do I,” I reply, never wanting anything more.
“In that case, I give you permission to knock some sense into me if I start acting like a basketcase.”
“Thank you, but that’s not necessary. I have complete faith in you. In us,” I affirm with a nod.
“Us,” she repeats with a smile. “I like the sound of that.”
“Me too,” I reply, my persistent erection throbbing when Madison mysteriously blushes.
She reveals the reason behind her blush when she huskily asks, “So, now what?”
Rolling on top of her, I smirk when a small intake of breath gets trapped in her throat. My erection, no doubt, is the cause of her breathlessness.
“Now,” I state. “I’m going to kiss you.” She gasps as I tongue the shell of her ear. “I’m just not going to tell you where,” I add, before taking her mouth and holding it prisoner, with no intent of ever letting go.
Act IV
One month later…
33
Welcome to the Family
DIXON
“And how does that make you feel?” I ask Ms. Stark, subtly glancing at the clock and internally celebrating that her time is almost up.
“I feel…” She pauses, licking her red lips. “I feel in control.”
“Why?” I ask, writing a note in her file, her hazel eyes watching my every move.
“Because, Dr. Mathews, when you have a megalomaniac for a husband, being in control is something you don’t experience often. I take what I can get, and at the moment, Pedro the pool boy is more than happy to give,” she replies, her eyes dipping to my lap.
I straighten my back and nod. “Have you spoken to your husband about his controlling… tendencies?” I say, not liking the predatory look she’s giving me.
“What would be the point? After twelve years of marriage, he hasn’t changed. I’ve just come to accept the fact my husband is a control freak, and no amount of talking to him will change anything,” she confesses, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward. “What about you, Dr. Mathews? Do you have someone special in your life?”