Micaden’s Madness

by Mason, V. F.

  “Patience, my darling.” His breath on my sensitive flesh drives me insane, the need building in me, and then he licks up to my clit, closing his mouth around it and sucking while two of his fingers enter, stretching me. My core instantly wraps around him. “You are dripping for me, Emerald.” There’s so much satisfaction in his voice that for a minute it snaps me out of my haze, but then he swirls his tongue again, replacing his fingers with it, and glides inside, giving me a deep, intimate kiss that envelops me in a cocoon of desire and need so strong I’m not sure I can survive it.

  My nails scratch the back of his neck, my thighs clamp around him, and my back arches as he continues to deliver pleasure to my body, feasting on my flesh, darting his tongue in and out while his thumb presses my clit. I need him to give me just one more push to…

  But then my eyes open and I gasp at the realization that all this is just a reminder of the previous night, where he played my body like a master and had wild sex with me on his own terms.

  I want my terms. I want to know what it’s like when a man is at my mercy and my body drives him insane.

  That’s the moment Micaden travels up, leaving wet marks all over my skin until he reaches my mouth. I can smell myself on him, but it doesn't stop him from covering my mouth with his while we entwine tongues in a deep kiss, locking us away in a land that no one can enter, because no one exists but us. His hands grab my hips, and it’s so easy to let him have access to me so he can give us both the relief we so desperately seek, but I can’t.

  With one move, I flip him onto his back, and he has a second to murmur “The fuck?” before I straddle him as he sits up, our noses inches away from each other. “You’d like to ride me, darling?” he asks, cupping my breast. My head falls back, which he instantly takes advantage of and nibbles on my neck, probably leaving freaking marks all over me again.

  “No,” I say, and he freezes, his brows furrowing. “I mean… maybe after?” I add lamely; suddenly the idea of being on top is very appealing. “I want to taste you,” I blurt, afraid I might lose my confidence.

  He blinks, and then I wonder if that’s not what he likes to do, since he didn't give me the chance last night either. But then anger flushes over me at the idea of anyone giving him this pleasure, so help me God if he says—

  He lets go of me and lies back down. I flush when his male beauty registers in my mind again and I can finally explore him the way I want.

  Strangely, I go for his mouth first, kissing him passionately, needing to connect with him, even though this is nothing but sex at this stage.

  I have no clue how to do any of this, so I decide to mimic all his previous actions.

  My lips nip on his Adam’s apple and then move lower to his collarbone and tight six-pack, which is so hard against my splayed palm it sends even more desire through me, and I bite on it, earning myself a groan while his hand tangles in my hair.

  “Stop playing around, Emerald,” he orders, but I just grin mischievously and lavish the skin with my tongue, leaving small bites all over his navel while my hand glide up and down his thighs, yet I ignore the raging hard-on with its purple head, precum leaking from it. “Emerald,” he growls, and finally, I fist the base of his cock. He jerks but then calms down when I swipe my tongue over the tip, tasting him for the second time, and moan, needing to taste directly from the source.

  I lick him from the head to the base, slowly dragging my tongue over his cock and then slide back, enjoying the groan echoing in the room. It changes to a moan once my mouth wraps around him, taking him as deep as I can for the first time, and I suck him, enjoying the feel of him and how helpless he seems in my hold.

  My hand continues to glide up and down, with my head bobbing, and the actions ignite my arousal too, my pussy dampening, and I can’t help but slide my palm down my stomach. I barely reach my clit before his firm “Don’t” registers. My eyes rise to meet his darkish blue ones, glistening with so much passion I gasp and tighten my hold on him. “Goddammit, woman,” he growls, fisting my hair and arching my neck so I can take him deeper. “You enjoy having me at your mercy, don’t you? Needing you so much I can’t fucking see straight.” I hum in agreement around his length, sitting on my calves and tightening my thighs, seeking some kind of friction or I’ll go insane. “I bet your pussy is so wet I can enter you with one thrust and go as deep as I can.” My eyes close, but he pulls at my hair so they snap open again. “Isn’t it?” I nod, his cock slipping past my lips, and I lick the head again. “See how hard it is?” He moves my head from side to side, my lips brushing his head lightly. “Who makes me this hard, Emerald?”

  “I do,” I reply hoarsely. Saying each word seems like torture, because my throat is so dry.

  “That’s right. Open your mouth.” I do and immediately he fills it, pushing slightly farther, and I groan, sucking before my hand moves lower, reaching for his balls, and that’s when everything changes.

  He freezes. I think he stops breathing, but then he drags me up and flips me to my back, with him looming over me, our sweaty bodies breathing heavily as he stares at me with madness in his eyes, and for one split second, fear rushes through me.

  Did I do something wrong? Does he not like when his balls are—

  But all fear washes away as his stare changes to smoldering. He grabs a condom from the nightstand, rolls it on, then hooks my legs under his arms, and presses me to the mattress, and that’s when I feel his cock dragging up and down over my pussy. “Micaden, I need—”

  “For me to fuck you. I know.” And he enters me with one firm thrust, and my scream tears from my throat. “Yes. Let the whole fucking world hear you right now,” he says, and he pulls backward only to bury himself in me again with a harder jerk.

  I moan and gasp into the air, pushing my hands on the headboard while, with each move, he sends me higher and higher in a spiral of bliss, the fire spreading through me filling my blood with so much pleasure and torture at the same time I don't know what to concentrate on.

  With each time he glides inside, my hips rise, meeting him halfway, my eyes closed, concentrating only on the sensations he can bring me. My whole body is on alert; every nip of the air affects me as he speeds up, clearly on the edge too. “Micaden, please.” He has to give it to me harder, and deeper, but instead, I keep receiving shallow strokes.

  I curl my fingers around his neck and pull him forward, his palms landing on either side of my head, which gives me freedom to wrap my legs around him, holding him tightly, and rock my hips in rhythm with his. “You drive me crazy,” I murmur in his ear, biting his earlobe as my nails drag over his back, leaving nail marks for sure, and a small grin curves my mouth. I love the idea of everyone seeing that—for the time being at least, this man belongs to me. “I’m so wet, so needy, and it’s unbearable.” I trap his mouth in a passionate kiss, squeezing my internal muscles, and he groans, sending vibrations through me. “So please, freaking fuck me.” The words seem so foreign to me, yet they give me what I need.

  He speeds up, driving his cock into me so deep I see stars, and that’s when it happens. I reach the peak and he follows me shortly after; we breathe heavily with sweat covering our skin.

  I hug him close to me and close my eyes as I enjoy holding this beautiful man in my arms while reality fades away.

  Coming here hasn't been a mistake. Even if nothing comes of this fling with Micaden, he’ll forever stay a memory I can’t forget.

  Micaden

  As her breathing evens, I gaze down, trailing her cheek and freckled skin with my finger. She shifts a little, sighing contentedly.

  Her beautiful skin glows in the moonlight while the sheet barely covers her perfectly shaped body that has the ability to bring so much pleasure to a man. In this moment, she seems so innocent, so naïve, that part of me, the one I thought was dead, reacts to it.

  My hands fist and I snarl, pushing away, and I get up, grabbing my pack of smokes on the way to the terrace.

  The wind blows the curt
ains as I step outside, inhaling the fresh midnight air in hope it’ll wash away her scent, which seems forever imprinted on my skin and my memories.

  Lighting up a cigarette, I take a greedy pull and block away everything else but the rage that’s been my constant company for the last ten years.

  Everything is going according to plan, and no emotions will sway me from my path.

  Emerald sealed her end when she sealed mine.

  There’s no one else left but her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  From the pages of the book…

  Blah blah blah. Write something!!!!

  Island, United States

  August 2019

  Emerald

  Staring at the blank page in my document, I rack my brain for continuation of the plot, but nothing comes up.

  As if the blank sheet transferred to my brain and settled there, not letting me see what happens after. Doesn’t my heroine want to tell me what follows next? She’s been silent for weeks now.

  What about Brochan? In this whole story, he was the sweetest guy. But I don’t know anything about him. I’m experiencing this story from her eyes only. He must have been scared shitless in the cell with all these people settling on the path to destroy his life.

  Donovan probably helped them out, and they managed to save her and run away and lived their happily ever after.

  But why? Why doesn’t she open up to me and finish telling me her story?

  Sighing, I take a sip of my morning tea while gazing at the waves crashing against rocks and close my eyes in pleasure as the light breeze softly brushes my skin.

  Nothing but the word magic can describe the last month and a half I’ve spent on the island.

  Micaden kept his promise; he’s been with me every step of the way while showing me the beautiful life that before I could only dream about. Fishing, skydiving, and other activities that scared me so much but with him became bearable.

  He’s always carefully planned all these activities, and sometimes I even laughed at how closely they followed some of the stuff I described in my story between my characters. I’m sure he read it secretly or something and thought those were my fantasies.

  Falling in love with him has been so easy, and I’m the first one to admit that all my skepticism toward love rose from not understanding it. Love doesn’t require time to flourish.

  He even took me to Nona, and although she mostly stayed silent, she’d give me beautiful smiles that warmed me inside. He told me she got Alzheimer’s seven years ago after some tragedy that she couldn’t live past. While the illness itself had nothing to do with it, because she saw early signs before that, Micaden described her as a vivacious woman who lived by her own rules and loved her family dearly. But they didn’t love her back it seems, since Micaden is the only one who took care of her and paid all the bills. He never elaborated on the whole tragedy angle either.

  Done with my drink, I step back inside the room and immediately my gaze lands on the magnificent specimen lying on the bed, with a sheet over his hips, his muscled body on full display for me to admire. “I know you’re staring,” he says, his husky voice causing goose bumps to break out on my skin.

  One eye opens as I raise my hand, nodding. “I plead guilty to the crime you accuse me of.” Something dark crosses his face, but it’s gone quickly, so I decide not to question him on it.

  Micaden sometimes has these moments where simple phrases unsettle him, but whenever I ask, he ignores my questions, so I’ve learned to let it be. Despite us being almost joined at the hip all the time, I’ve never shared my past with him either.

  Well, not that I have any deep secrets to protect, but still. For example, we never discuss Kaden.

  “Are you now?” he asks lazily, and I come close, leaning toward him but not touching him.

  “Mmhmm. Ready to take my punishment,” I proclaim, and then squeal when he grabs me and flips me onto my back, looming above me while his hands unzip my denim dress, and then his eyes darken when he sees my naked skin.

  “Did you go out like this to get tea?” he growls, biting on my collarbone, and I moan, arching my back and nodding eagerly, because possessive Micaden equals great sex.

  He swiftly flips me onto my stomach and then pulls my hips up, sitting me on my calves. “Someone has been a bad girl, wearing a dress,” he says, removing the dress from me, and I eagerly get away from it, but then he grabs my arms, wrapping the cloth around my wrists. He drops them in front of me, and I moan when he fists my hair and brings me up, pressing his chest to my back, his breath fanning my cheek, while he murmurs, “Without bra or panties. Just one little lean forward, like this—” He pushes me forward and his other palm slides down my spine, stopping at the base of my ass. “—and people would have seen what belongs to me.”

  “Hardly,” I reply, but he ignores it.

  “Do you think it pleases me to know you parade what’s mine, Emerald?”

  Licking my dry lips, I hide my grin before throwing my words over my shoulder. “Maybe. Yes. Don't care either way.”

  My sassy reply earns me a slap to an ass cheek, and I groan.

  My skin burns from the touch, but it also sends a spiral of need through me, awakening my senses while this position and my bound wrists highten my emotions. “Someone forgot who she belongs to.” Another slap, this time to my other cheek, and the same tremors shake me while my core dampens. My nipples harden, but pressing them against the sheets only ignites me more. “Look at that skin.” He squeezes my ass cheek, and I gasp from the light sting, and then he slaps again, his hand bouncing off me, while he asks, “Who do you belong to, Emerald?”

  I take a breath and then exhale, pushing my ass back in his grip. “No one.” Another slap doesn't surprise, only moves me forward on the bed.

  “Is that so?” He lightly pats my puffy skin, gliding his hand up and down. Then I feel his lips on my ass, his tongue tracing where his handprint must be, and I moan again, arching on the bed. His lips trail up, leaving bites as he goes, until he reaches the back of my neck where he sucks on the skin. He drags me up and cups my pussy, his finger slipping inside as he catches my whimper with his mouth. He pushes his tongue inside while we give in to the kiss. At the same time, he drills his finger in and out, teasing me but not bringing any relief. “Look how wet you are.” He tugs my bottom lip with his, pulling it and leaving a sting.

  “Can you just do it?” I frown and his brow rises, while he laces his fingers in my hair and arches my neck so that his nose skims over it and my shoulder.

  “Do what?”

  “Fuck me.” With each lovemaking, saying the words became easier and easier, so much that I crave to utter them to him so he can have his wild ways with me.

  Instead of answering, he covers my mouth with his, our tongues sliding against each other, and I’m so content in his arms despite the desire slamming into me. Whenever he kisses me, it’s like he stakes an invisible claim, reminding me I belong to him and leaving such a strong imprint I know I won’t ever be able to forget him. He lets go of me, our lips inches away from each other, when he asks again, “Who do you belong to?”

  My hand travels to his hair, bringing him closer, so I can whisper in his ear, “You.” Instantly he removes his fingers and sinks his cock into me, shaking us on the bed. “Only you,” I moan through another thrust and lean forward, arching my ass toward him while he slams into me, holding my hips tightly.

  This is not sweet and tender and long, not the kind of lovemaking he gives me during the night when he has all the time in the world.

  No, it’s hard, loud, dirty, but so hot my toes curl and I can barely breathe from all the pleasure that consumes me. His every breath, move, scent envelops me so hard I want nothing else but to forever freeze this moment and always hold on to him.

  My mouth opens, chanting his name while he pulls me up again, driving into me with force as his fingers play with my nipples, causing electricity to zap through me. I’m close. I’m so close,
and by how tightly he holds on to me, I know he is too. “You are mine, Emerald. Mine and only mine. Never forget that,” he utters, pressing my clit with this thumb right before he thrusts into me again.

  My scream reverberates through the walls, but he covers my mouth with his palm as my pussy clamps around him, while indescribable pleasure rides me. He continues to give me shallow strokes as I rest my head on his shoulder and he slowly but surely finds what he needs.

  He growls again, fisting my hair tighter, and then groans into my neck, and I feel him spill into me, marking my skin in a different way. We stopped using condoms after both of us got a clean bill of health.

  Slowly, he places light kisses on my shoulder and unties my wrists, and then he flips me onto my back where I lie, gulping breaths and studying the ceiling in the inn. He goes to the bathroom and returns with a cloth to wipe our fluids away from me then throws it in the laundry hamper and joins me on the bed.

  I place my palm on my mouth and make a dramatic sigh. “Mister Micaden, what would your nona say at such behavior?”

  He chuckles and then winks at me. I want to discuss with him the possibility of opening a gallery for artists in this town, when a sound on the bedside table snatches my attention.

  I glance at the clock then bounce up on the bed, and say with panic lacing my voice, “I need to call my brother, finish a chapter, and go to Eve.” His hand pulls me, and I land on my back, sending him a death glare. The freaking jerk.

  “Don’t make any plans tonight.”

  I shift onto my side and study him from under my lashes. “Why?”

  Something flashes in his eyes, and then he removes some strands of my hair from my face. “I have a surprise for you.”

  Happiness flushes through me. “You do?”

  “Mmhmm.” He leans forward, and whispers, “You will see stars.” And I grin, anticipating the date, because I don't know what else to call it.