by Tillie Cole
My fingers curled and straightened, carefully replacing themselves back on the wooden floor. And feeling I needed to talk, I said, “Except from you,” I inhaled, fighting my nerves to keep on going, “I have only been touched by men who wanted to hurt me.” Flame stiffened, and by the quick rising and falling of his broad chest, I knew he was getting angry. “Every night that I sleep, I feel them touching me. I wake in a cold sweat, my nightdress drenched because I relive what they did to me. I feel the pain, I feel their unwanted intimate touches, the burns, the lashes… the blinding pain.” My throat clogged with a heavy lump. But I forced it back down, to say quietly, “But I want it to stop. And I do not know how. I see Mae and Lilah with Styx and Ky, and I see that they have found a way. Through love, they have found a way.”
Staring at my hand, I inched my fingers closer to Flame’s, feeling the heavy tension rolling off him in waves. I studied my little finger, so close to his, and added, “And I want to replace their touch with yours. I want to wake up with your arm around my waist, keeping me safe.”
“Maddie,” Flame groaned, but it was pained and regretful. “I don’t know if—”
“But I shall settle for your fingers wrapped in mine. I would be content to awaken knowing you were holding me in some small way.”
Flame’s eyes were darting from side to side, lost in thought. I shuffled my body closer until our faces were mere inches apart. I could feel Flame’s quick warm breath ghosting my cheek. I fought back the urge to back away. “I do not know who comes for you each night. And I do not know what he did to you. But I believe…” I shook my head, fighting the dark pit that was forming in my heart, “but I believe it is similar to what was done to me. And I believe that with my touch, maybe he might fade from your world too.”
Flame sucked in a sharp breath and he closed his eyes, clearly fighting something in his head. When they opened, water filled his gaze and he said, “He called me a retard. Because…” he breathed deep, “because I didn’t see things like everyone else.” I froze, listening intently to him speak. He continued. “I know I’m different. I knew he hated me because I was different. Other kids would laugh at me. They would laugh at something I said or something I did. And every time that happened it would upset me, because I didn’t know what I’d done wrong. And then I’d be punished. Over and over again, I’d be punished. So I stopped speaking to anyone, because I didn’t want them to laugh. I didn’t want to be punished. But that made him madder. He got mad when I spoke, but then he got mad when I didn’t. I sat on my own playing with my toys and it made him mad. But the other kids wouldn’t play with me, because I was me.”
My heart squeezed and I fought back tears, listening to what he went through as a child. A sheen of sweat broke out on his face. “He got angrier and angrier with me, until one day, I heard why I was different. Because I had evil in my soul and flames running in my blood.” Flame shook his head. “I tried to get them out to show him I was trying. I tried to get them out so he wouldn’t hate me anymore, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t get them out.”
“Flame…” I whispered as tears ran down my cheeks.
“So he took me to Pastor Hughes. And Pastor Hughes brought the snakes. They held me down and snakes slithered on my skin. They needed to see if I was evil.”
I fought for breath. I did not understand. “Snakes? They put snakes on you?” I asked.
“Snakes are the manifestation of the devil, Pastor Hughes would say. If they bit you, it was because you were a sinner.” Flame’s eyes glazed over, and his skin jumped. “And they bit me. They hurt me. They felt the flames in my blood. They were drawn to the evil in my blood.”
“No…” I hushed out.
“The church hurts people. They hold you down and hurt people. And then he told me he had to release the flames. He came every night to release the flames.”
Flame’s body turned rigid. “But nothing worked. The flames were still there. I’m still different. I don’t understand people. People don’t understand me.”
I took a deep breath, concentrating on his every word. Then, meeting my eyes, he said, “I know I’m different. I know I don’t see the world like everyone else does. But I want to see your world, Maddie. Even if it’s the only one I’ll ever understand.”
My heart beat faster as his dark eyes penetrated mine, and then we both stilled when we felt it.
My breathing increased with our gazes locked, and when I looked down, my hand was covering his. Gently lying on top, small against large. I worked on keeping calm, I tried desperately to not feel fear.
When I glanced up, Flame’s eyes were as wide as saucers and his head had begun to twitch. “Maddie,” he whispered, then blew out a sharp breath.
His eyes snapped to our joined hands, then up again.
“You feel warm,” I whispered, sensing heat radiating from his skin. My heart was pounding, but staring at our hands, I ghosted my little finger over his skin. Flame froze and groaned at the same time. But he did not move his hand.
“You are soft,” I added and flickered my eyes to his. Flame was already watching me. I swallowed back the nerves starting to take me hostage under his stare. Then he squeezed his eyes shut and breathed through his nose.
I watched him, my heart sinking when I believed he would pull away. To my complete surprise, in a flash, his hand flipped over, his palm instantly meeting mine. I gasped at the feeling of unfamiliar warmth. But then Flame spread his fingers and threaded them through mine. His grip, at first was soft, then his fingers tightened on mine… and we simply breathed.
We stared.
But we breathed.
Enraptured by the sight, and overcome by such emotion, I stayed silent. But then Flame, said, “It’s like your picture.”
My eyes lifted to his and I swallowed. “It’s like my picture,” I whispered, feeling butterflies flood my insides. A feeling of hope took me over, and I squeezed our melded hands harder.
Flame did not react.
“I can breathe,” Flame said suddenly. My body surged with light. I could clearly see the disbelief in his stare.
“I can breathe,” he repeated again. And then I heard his quiet counting under his breath; eleven small, feather light squeezes of his hand in mine. I let him count, watching in fascination as a shocked breath escaped his lips on reaching number eleven.
Then his eyes widened and he rasped, “You’re not hurt… I… I didn’t hurt you…”
Needing to be closer, I shuffled nearer still, so close that our chests were almost touching. “I am not hurt,” I assured. Feeling my face flush with heat, I confessed, “In fact, I have not felt this… content… ever in my life.”
“Maddie,” Flame whispered, and my heart melted when his thumb awkwardly moved to brush over mine. The feeling of the rough pad of his thumb, stroking over my skin, sent shivers through my body.
Then I gasped in shock as I felt those shivers build between my legs. Dipping my head, I glanced down to see Flame’s free hand adjusting himself in his leather pants.
These feelings… these feelings were so new. I did not know what I should make of them. And all from one touch.
“Maddie,” Flame groaned, but the tone of his groan had changed. Gone was the pained groan. In its place was a low rasp. A groan of want.
“Flame,” I whispered in response. Then Flame licked along his bottom lip and my eyes focused on his mouth.
My head tipped forward, instinctively searching for what my heart was calling me to take. Flame’s breathing increased and he asked, “Maddie. What are you doing?”
“I… I want to know what your lips feel like,” I admitted quietly. Flame’s hand squeezed a bit tighter.
“I’ve never done that before,” he admitted. “I’ve never done anything like this before.” Then he closed his eyes and I saw his lips counting to eleven.
When he reached eleven, his eyes opened but the disbelief was still there. He inched back and scanned down my body, as though checking me for i
njuries.
“I am well, Flame,” I assured again and his head dropped, forehead touching mine. We both froze at the new contact, but neither of us moved away.
And then I moved my hand, still clutching his. Flame’s body was as tense as hard metal. But needing to touch his face, I ran the edge of my index finger along his bearded cheek. Flame’s large panicked eyes never strayed and his neck corded with veins.
When I had reached his jaw, I moved my finger back and repeated the action. I repeated it eleven times. On number eleven, when nothing had happened, Flame’s lips trembled.
“You’re not hurt,” he stated with a broken voice laced with relief.
“I am not hurt,” I confirmed with a whisper. Flame’s large bare chest rolled slightly to the side. With our hands still clasped, my chest pressed slightly against his, we froze.
We breathed.
We stared.
Lifting his free hand, Flame brought it to my cheek, hovering his palm just over my skin. I could see in his eyes that he so desperately wanted to touch my face. So taking my free hand, I brought it behind his and, gently touching the back of his hand, pressed his palm to my cheek.
As soon as his touch held my face, something inside of me was freed. Years and years of fear. Freed from fear of men, of living a lie.
I could not help but drink in the image before me. Our joined hands pressed to Flame’s cheek, and our other hands touching mine. My eyes lowered to Flame’s mouth once more. As if seeing my attention shift, Flame’s stomach muscles tensed and his hips shifted. Regardless, I could not look away.
Flame’s hand, cupping my cheek, tightened its grip, and when I saw his burning dark eyes staring at my mouth, a new kind of tension flashed between us.
“Maddie,” Flame groaned, chest pounding hard.
“Flame,” I whispered in return, his name a breathy moan from my lips.
And then he was guiding me down. With his hand on my face, he pulled me down until my breasts pressed flat against his chest. At the contact, we both stilled.
“Breathe,” I spoke aloud, an instruction to both Flame and myself.
Flame inhaled deeply and I followed his lead. As I paused to drink in this moment, I realized the sheer size Flame’s chest. He felt bigger than he looked… but I felt safe.
When Flame’s hand stroked along my jaw, it brought his lips back to my attention. Moving my hand from his cheek, I ran it to his mouth and traced the outline of his lips with my fingertip. Flame’s hips bucked upwards at the touch, though his eyes hooded.
With his body tensed, he lowered me down the final few inches, until my lips pressed against his, my eyes closing at the strange feeling. At first touch we both remained unmoving, my face suspended over his, his warm moist lips pressed stationary against mine.
Then his finger stroked along my cheek, and his lips began to move so gently against my lips. And I felt this kiss all the way to my soul.
Flame’s mouth continued to explore, then to my surprise, I felt his tongue softly, tentatively and nervously, slip into my mouth as he released a quiet groan.
My cheeks flooded with heat, my body feeling so different than ever before—alive with light and fire, but safe and filled with trust. Pushing my nerves to their limit, my tongue shyly met Flame’s. Shivers accosted my body as our tongues timidly dueled, both of us trying to understand this strange new sensation. Soft and humble at first, but then a louder, more heated groan sounded from Flame. His tongue further filled my mouth and Flame increased his speed. And I felt like I was floating, as our mouths fused as one. It felt like I was not me.
I was not Maddie.
He was not Flame.
But then my heart swelled when I remembered it truly was us. The hand on my face was his, and the mouth taking mine so devotedly, was Flame's.
My Flame.
Another groan came from his mouth, the sound shooting straight between my legs. I clenched my thighs, trying to stave off the heat. But it did not go, and out of breath and completely confused, I broke my mouth from Flame’s on a gasp.
Inhaling deep, Flame’s eyes opened. His focus latched on me. Nothing was said as we stared into each other’s eyes. Our hands never moved. And we never stopped touching.
Then my heart shattered, and utterly surrendered itself to this man, when he rasped in awe, “Maddie… I can touch you… I can…”
On a quick groan, Flame slipped his hand behind my neck, and brought me to his chest. I could hear his moan of pain, of him fighting his abhorrence of my touch as our flesh collided. He wrapped his arms around me and held on tight. He was fighting his repulsion to touch. He was fighting it so he could hold me in his arms.
Flame’s large frame encompassed mine, his strong hold crushing me so fiercely. My cheek was flush against his skin, and with shaking hands, I moved my arms and wrapped them around his waist, holding him too. He stiffened as my arms connected with his bare skin, but thankfully he held me harder and breathed long calming breaths into my hair.
We lay in silence.
Just as I feared my heart would burst from happiness, from this liberation of what we had both just accomplished, Flame whispered, “Just like your picture, Maddie. I’m holding you just like your sketch.”
Chapter Eighteen
Flame
I was holding her.
I’d kissed her.
She was in my fucking arms.
And I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe that the flames hadn’t hurt her. I’d counted to eleven when my hand had been in hers, when her finger had touched my cheek, and when I’d brought her to my lips.
But nothing. She was alive. She was in my arms and she was alive.
Taking in a deep breath, Maddie’s hands moved on the skin of my waist. I groaned, both a mixture of my body trying to throw off her touch, but also wanting her closer.
Needing more.
My cock was pushing against my leathers at the feel of Maddie on top of me. Her tiny fucking fingers were stroking along my skin and I had to grit my teeth against the need to roll over and take her.
But I didn’t know how I could do that. Touching her and kissing her was one thing, but actually fucking her?
I wasn’t sure either of us could do it.
Maddie sighed, and rubbing her cheek against my chest said, “I never… I never thought this could happen. To us… with us…” Maddie lifted her head and she looked directly into my eyes. Her cheeks were red. Lifting a hand from her back, I slowly brought it to the side of her face. Maddie’s green eyes fluttered to a close when I eventually pressed my palm to her skin.
And then she smiled, cooling the flames in my blood and replacing their heat with nothing. I wanted nothing. I didn’t want to feel anything under my skin.
Maddie’s cheek nuzzled my palm and I couldn’t stop staring at what she looked like above me. How soft her small cheek felt in my large hand.
“You like this?” I asked, knowing it was true because of the flush to her cheek.
“Yes,” she whispered back, and stilled. My heart stopped in panic. I thought something was wrong, but then Maddie slowly lowered and brushed her lips against mine. She quickly pulled back, and kept her head low. “But I liked that more.”
My cock jerked in my leathers and I knew she felt it against her leg. Maddie shook her head. “I… I do not think… I d-do n-not know… if…” she stuttered and added, “if I can go that far.”
My body relaxed, and I replied, “Me too.”
Maddie lifted her gaze to meet mine and nodded her head. “But I like you touching me. You make me feel safe.”
“You cool my blood,” I replied.
Maddie’s hand met my cheek and her fingers began running through my beard. “Your beard is softer than I imagined. And your skin is smoother.” Her head tilted to the side. “When I sketch I try to imagine how it feels under my touch. I would spend hours looking out of my window just trying to imagine the feel and what it looked like up close. Never in my wildest dreams
did I imagine I would ever get to do this. My drawings have always been things that I imagined myself doing but believed were impossible. Now… now I am all a fluster that it has become a reality.”
I thought of her black and white sketches, thought of the one of her and I standing with my arms wrapped around her and her head to my chest. “I like your drawings.” I said and felt my forehead crease. “I never know what people are feeling until they tell me. I never know what it means when their expressions change, until they tell me what they are thinking. It’s the same with you too, but I knew what you wanted from me with those drawings. I could see what you wanted from life. I could see that you wanted to touch me, and that you wanted to walk outside without fear. That you want to stand next to me, holding my hand, outside.”
I brought Maddie closer with my hand on her face and said, “I want to understand you, Maddie. I want to understand your world.”
Maddie’s eyes searched mine, and she said, “It is simple, really. There is me. There is my love for sketching, the love I have for my sisters…” she swallowed and dipped her head, “and the way I feel about you.” She whispered the last part so quietly I almost didn’t hear it.
My heart hammered in my chest, and I asked, “How do you feel about me?”
Maddie’s finger moved from my face to trace down the flame tattoos covering my neck, then those that led down to my chest. She traced along the ink until her heart stopped over the place of my heart. “That you are my anchor. You are the one I was meant to find on this Earth.” Her finger stopped and she looked into my eyes. “That you are the one for me. Only you can understand me, Flame. No one else. You have spent your entire life lost, not understanding what people want, but with me, you always know how to make me happy. How to make me feel safe.”
