Page 37 of Mad for Madison

That was how you treated someone you cared about.

Madison turned around slowly, lying on his front, while I lifted condoms and lube from a few feet away where we’d left them on the floor. Although still not very practiced, I wasn’t afraid of blundering this part. I slipped the condom on and poured lube generously despite the fact that Madison was slick and waiting for me.

“Ready?” I whispered once I positioned myself above him.

Madison spread his legs and nestled his head in his arms. Lifting his butt a little for me, he nodded. “I’m ready.”

My lips pressed heatedly against his neck as I held myself firmly in my hand and let my weight do the rest. Sinking into him, I felt our mutual tension melt into something wonderful.

Madison thrust his ass higher, impaling himself on me from below, his upper back pressing against my chest, my stomach touching the curve of his lower back.

He groaned, holding himself fast as I jerked my hips back and pushed forward, sinking deeper into him.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he purred when the hard part was over. I could imagine the warmth replacing the pain—I’d explored these sensations on my own, finding that I was much more drawn to being a top. Still, thinking what it felt like for Madison turned me on by a few degrees.

I slipped my arm around Madison’s upper torso as he propped himself up on his elbows. Using his knees, he lifted his ass higher and gave me a good angle, letting me fuck him with smooth movements that gave us both the sort of pleasure poets would write about if only they knew.

He cried out, a hand reaching up and to the back of my neck, holding me close as I kissed his neck and ear. My abs burned with tension as I thrust my hips back and forth, sweat breaking over my body.

The sound of his voice when I fucked him was the sweetest music I’d ever known. He was mine. He was like this because of me. He was trapped in this moment of passion, in this indulgence, with me and nobody else.

Everything he had said to me was true.

I believed every word of it.

“Harder,” he pleaded. I knew what it meant. He didn’t need me to be more forceful, to twist his arm or pull his hair. He needed me closer.

Hugging him tightly from behind, I thrust my hips until he lay flat on the mattress, rubbing against it with every move we made. He panted and moaned, and so did I, our breaths a wild jazz performance, erratic and without any discernable harmony, simply working to perfection.

“Madison,” I huffed against his ear, feeling our mutual pleasure rise, feeling the tension match it step for step. It was incredible. It was beautiful in a way few things in life were.

We lost ourselves in one another for minutes, hours, days. I didn’t know what time was. I only knew what we were. The Earth spun around us; the universe orbited us, because we were its center. We were the heart of it all.

And when Madison’s body coiled in the heat of our pleasure, I felt him tighten and relax around me. And I knew he had reached the climax while I followed mere heartbeats behind him.

You and me, I thought as I held on to him as if a storm threatened to blow me away. The thunderous orgasm passed through my entire body, curling my toes and making my head spin.Just you and me.

Could this be real? Could we have this crazy, impossible thing? Could we keep it alive?

In this moment of pure joy, I believed we could.

I was his just as he was mine.

And in the hours that followed, we lay together, holding one another and quietly wondering what good things we had ever done to earn this reward. My thoughts were no secret, and neither were his. I could read them from the thankful looks he sent my way.

You have nothing to thank me for, I wanted to tell him. I would have given myself to him without any reward at all.

The sunrise found us half asleep on the futon, naked and together, and we didn’t turn to stone. Part of me wished we had so we wouldn’t need to leave this moment, this place, but I knew it wasn’t over. We had to leave, but we carried a promise with us now. We carried a promise to be together again.

CHAPTER 9

All Mine

Madison

I often wonderedwhat the life I deserved was. If we were simply given what we deserved, did it look exactly like what we already had? “Son, the point of life is to die at the end,” my once-upon-a-time father had told me once. It had been an excuse tocarpe diemthe fuck out of his existence by drinking every day and fancying himself a philosopher. That I had asked for a Happy Meal made no difference to him because he’d wanted to teach me a lesson about getting the things we wanted.

No wonder my imagination had constantly failed to conjure a future with something like happiness in it.

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