by Naomi Niles
Please forgive me,
Alice
I folded the letter up carefully and slipped it back into the envelope. It was like she had written a poem, not a letter. I could barely understand any of it. I set it back in the drawer and closed it shut. Then I slipped out of the room and tried my best to forget I had ever read it.
As my eyes focused on the dark living room I was sitting in, the memory of that moment came back to me as clearly as though I had just lived it. I got up and walked into my bedroom. I rooted around in the back of my closet until I found the old shoebox I used to keep as a child. When I opened it, I found my mother’s letter nested at the bottom of the box. It was faded with age now, yellowing around the corners and tearing off in places. The words were not as clear and the paper smelled of neglect. I hadn’t opened it since that day when I had found it in my father’s bedside table.
After Dad’s death, John and I had combed through his room. I had taken the letter before he had found it and secreted it away with my own possessions. Then I had forgotten all about it, not because it was worth forgetting, but because it was necessary to.
I opened the letter for the second time in my life and read through it again with fresh eyes. Reading it as an adult was an altogether different experience from reading it as a hurt teenager. I could see the nuances between the sentences; I could see the possibilities there. And suddenly, I was beginning to think that maybe Mom hadn’t left because she wanted to. Maybe she had left because for some reason…she had to.
“I was too young to understand,” I whispered to myself.
A knock on my door distracted me from the newfound realization that was dawning. I put the letter away and slipped the shoebox back into the recesses of my closet. When I opened my bedroom door, I found Madison standing outside it.
I could tell that she had just stepped out of the shower. She smelt of soap and shampoo, though her hair was very nearly dry. She was wearing a thin dress that clung to her body and accentuated the curves of her breasts. I could see her nipples through the fabric and felt myself harden at the sight.
Her beautiful eyes looked large, sad, and sultry in the dull light; her hair tumbled in waves over one shoulder. She was looking at me with an odd expression, one that I couldn’t fully understand.
“Are you okay?” I asked, wanting desperately to pull her into my arms.
She shook her head. Then she put her hands on either side of my face and kissed me gently. It was a long, slow, tender kiss different from any one we’d shared before. I could sense something more in that kiss, something that was more than desire or lust or want.
When she pulled away from me, her eyes were still hooded with emotion. She stepped past me and walked into the bedroom without invitation. I turned to watch her, mesmerized by everything about her. Then slowly, she started undressing before my eyes.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Madison
I wanted him. That was the foremost need that expressed itself in my consciousness. But I was aware of a torrent of other desires, too. I didn’t just want his body – I wanted his whole being. I was greedy tonight, and I knew I was approaching him with an almost predatory stance.
As he shut his bedroom door and turned to me, I slipped the dress off my shoulders and pushed it down from my hips, until I was standing naked in front of him except for my lace panties.
I saw his eyes canvas my body; I saw his desire rise to meet my own. I could see the erection jutting out from his pant front. The sight gave me a whirl of satisfaction. I had the power to make him hard and it had never meant as much to me as it did right at that moment.
I stared into his eyes and removed my panties. I didn’t know what had given me this great confidence. I didn’t know that I had ever been the type of woman to stand naked in front of a man and be completely comfortable with it. But it seemed tonight I was. And with him, I was.
Peter just stared at me, almost as though he were afraid to approach me. I let him watch me and admire my body. It gave me a great sense of satisfaction to know he wanted to see me that way.
After a while, I walked up to him. His eyes followed my every movement. When I was standing right in front of him, I pulled him close to me and started kissing him again. This time, I was the one in control. I was the one who was going to determine the next move. He seemed to sense this, too, because he submitted to me completely. He allowed me to lead.
I kissed him until I was well and truly wet. I could feel the hardness of his erection prick against my thigh and knew he was bursting with desire, but he wanted to prolong the moment. I pulled away after a moment, leaving him breathless and confused. I took his hand and led him to the chair in front of his dark desk. I pushed him down into a sitting position and then sunk to my knees between his feet.
His eyes never left my face and that was exactly how I wanted it. I unzipped his pants and pulled them down. His erection was long and impressive, desperate to be free of the oppressive hold of fabric. I felt the moisture between my legs spread as I bent down and took the length of him into my mouth all at once.
He gasped audibly and threw his head back. I didn’t care if he came in the next five seconds. I just wanted to suck him hard. I wanted to feel his cock in the back of my throat. His hand fell upon my head, but it was gentle, a light pressure encouraging me onward. I sucked his penis furiously and when I finally pulled back, his whole body was trembling from the effort of resisting his orgasm.
I pulled his shirt off him and ran my tongue up and down his chiseled chest and stomach. He tasted amazing. I rose to my feet and mounted him gently, slipping him inside easily. His eyes closed as we fused together and his hands came down around my hips, anchoring me in place.
I moved slowly on top of him at first, letting each stroke stand on its own. Every time I came down on top of him, I felt a little flutter in my heart. His hands clung to me, touching my breasts, my nipples, my thighs, and my ass – and still it wasn’t enough.
Fueled by my insatiable desire, my movements increased in tempo until I was fucking him faster and harder than I had ever intended. The sound of our flesh slamming together created a strangely erotic sound that seemed to bang off the walls.
“Fuck,” he cried out as he came violently against me.
He held me close for a long time, sucking at my nipples every now and again until his breathing calmed. After a few minutes, I eased myself off him and walked over to his empty bed.
“I want you again,” I said, lying down on his bed. “I want you to fuck me again. And, I want you to fuck me in every way it’s possible for a man to fuck a woman.”
I saw Peter’s eyes zing with desire and his penis twitch a little, as though it had heard me speak. He stood up and came to lie beside me in bed.
We lay like that, on our sides, staring at each other’s faces as though we were looking for secrets and treasures both. We didn’t speak. There was no need for conversation that night. There had been enough conversation all around.
The time for talk was done; now it was time for us to simply be animals. After a few minutes had passed, Peter pulled me towards him, his hands snaking down my body as though they were looking for something.
Slowly, he turned me over and entered me again from the back. I cried out, reveling in the feel of him inside me. I was sore between the legs already, but it was a welcome soreness, the kind that made you feel like you had done something worthwhile. He fucked me slowly, taking his time and exploring my body with his hands.
After a while, he flipped me over again and hiked my leg over his shoulder as he slipped inside me again.
We stared at each other the whole time. I could see my reflection in his eyes. I had never experienced that before. Usually, I was much more self-conscious with men. It was hard to look directly at them when they were fucking me.
But this was different. Peter was different. He was a man who could look into my eyes and not be scared or intimidated. He was a man who was not afraid of making a
connection or maintaining one. He was wholly in the moment, which made it easier for me to be in the moment, too.
Every now and again, he would bend his head down to kiss my neck, my lips, and my ears. He would kiss me tenderly and sincerely, as though I was the most precious thing in the world and he was the only one who saw my worth. I clung to him desperately, wanting to feel the exhilarating thrill of orgasm and yet, at the same time, not wanting the moment to end.
Again, he changed position so that both my legs were in the air, and he was pounding down on top of me. The pressure of his entry was forceful in its thrill, and I felt a rush of some unnamed emotion that was close to orgasmic deliria. His eyes found mine again, and I felt them ferociously, feeling a sense of possessiveness overtake me.
How could I possibly let this go? It was the first time I had ever experienced this connection with anyone.
Usually, sex was just sex. It was an act that didn’t require any feelings. It was an act that didn’t require a connection or a relationship. It was purely carnal and completely devoid of affection.
Now, I realized that that was only because I had been fucking all the wrong men. I had given myself to men who didn’t care about me. They were men who wanted my body and once they had had me, they wanted nothing more to do with me.
I had never experienced the act of making love with a man who actually cared, a man who had actually gone out of his way to protect me. Was this love? I wondered. Was this the insatiable, earnest need that heroines hungered for in great novels? Because if it was, then I could finally understand it, Peter had opened my eyes.
It was in the moments before I came that it hit me. I was falling in love with Peter Burbank.
The honest truth was that I had already fallen for Peter Burbank. I craved him and that craving was for more than just his body and what he could do with it. That craving was for his mind, his thoughts, his opinions, and the fierce sense of pride and care that he had for his brothers.
He had referred to me once as his family and until now, I had never admitted to myself how badly I wanted it to be true. I desperately longed for that sense of family, which I had never received at the hands of my neglectful parents and a brother who was too young to know any better.
My orgasm was violent, bright, and uncontrollable. I shuddered, whimpered, and writhed underneath Peter’s hard muscles. And even though I was short of breath and tired and aching all over, I still wanted more.
We lay in bed together for an hour, staring at each other’s faces and touching each other’s bodies. Sleep seemed to evade both of us, but neither invited conversation. It was almost as though there was an unspoken agreement between us. Let’s not ruin the night by talking. Let’s save that for the next day and just enjoy the silence and all the little nuances it hid.
The moment our bodies had a chance to rest and recuperate, I was anxious to repeat the process again. Peter seemed to have the same inclination because an hour after the heat of sex had melted into the sheets, it was renewed again, either by myself or by Peter. We fucked three more times that night. I had so many orgasms that I lost count after the fourth one. They blended together in one giant blur of ecstasy.
We clung to each other’s bodies as though we were saying goodbye. We ravaged each other as though we were the last two people on earth and the survival of mankind depended solely on us. The whole night was eclipsed by the sound of our lovemaking.
And when morning dawned, it was with the sage quiet of calm. It was a calm that gave no promises, but it was beautiful nonetheless.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Peter
I woke up with the most blissful sense of calm. I felt as though I had been asleep for a thousand years and had finally woken up after an eternity of rest. I tried to stretch, but Madison was wrapped around me, her leg thrown over mine.
I gently eased her into a more comfortable position and then I turned so that I could admire her. I froze in place as I realized we were not the only two people in the room. Sam was standing at my door, leaning against its frame casually with his usual cheeky grin in place. He gave me a salacious wink and then the thumbs up.
My eyes went wide and instinctively I moved to make sure that Madison was properly covered up. She was naked beneath the sheets, but she was properly covered, except for one shapely leg that peeked out of the covers.
I turned my gaze on Sam and narrowed my eyes at him. “Get the fuck out of here,” I mouthed to him, taking the time to enunciate each word so that he got the hint.
His grin got wider. “Pull the sheets back a little,” he said back, gesturing for me to remove them completely. “Just give me a peek.”
“You fucking pervert,” I whispered.
Madison stretched in her sleep, and I could tell that she was beginning to wake up. I turned furiously to Sam and shot him the middle finger, which for some reason he found hilarious. He held onto the doorframe as he laughed silently and completely ignored my silent gestures of profanity.
I was just about to disentangle myself from Madison and kick Sam out of my room when she turned around and opened her eyes.
Those beautiful green eyes fell on me for a moment and then they turned to Sam. She blinked at him once. “Morning, Sam,” she said, as though it were a perfectly normal experience to find him in the room.
His eyes went wide, and I realized that he had never meant to be seen by Madison. His antics were for my benefit alone. His cheeks colored instantly and he darted out of the room, as though Madison hadn’t said a word. She laughed.
“He’s shy in the mornings,” she said. “Who would’ve thought?”
I stared at her, amazed by the carefree tact she had displayed. She didn’t seem shaken or annoyed. In fact, she seemed downright amused. “Does he usually crash in on your slumber parties?”
“He probably would if I had many of them,” I answered. “As it stands…you’re one of the few.”
“Lucky me,” she said, as she leaned in to kiss my lips. “Good morning.”
I smiled and relaxed into her. “Good morning. That was quite a night we had.”
She sighed deeply. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk straight today.”
“Oops.”
She laughed. “That’s okay,” she said. “As problems go, that’s a good one to have.”
We snuggled under the sheets together and it felt as though we were cut off from the rest of the world. We lay next to each other in silence and I took a moment to savor that rarity. It was hard to find someone that you could talk to. But sometimes, it was even harder to find someone you could be silent with. There was a comfort in our lack of conversation. It meant that we didn’t need to say anything to be understood. Somehow it felt safe.
“Peter.”
“Don’t go,” I moaned, pulling her closer to me.
“How did you know what I was going to say?” she asked.
“I just did,” I said, with a shrug. “Stay.”
“I wish I could,” Madison sighed. “You have no idea how much I wish I could just stay here with you. But I need to check on my brother…and Polo. And I have work, too.”
“Work,” I nodded. “I keep forgetting that other people have work.”
“You’re starting soon,” she reminded me.
“Not nearly soon enough,” I said.
She leaned in and kissed my cheeks and eyelids. Then she pushed back the covers and got out of bed. I lay there, admiring her alluring nakedness. I admired the way her hair fell down her back in messy waves. I admired the way her slim thighs moved as she walked. I admired the feminine curves of her body.
“You’re staring,” she pointed out, breaking through my observation.
I smiled. “Can you blame me?”
She slipped on her panties and then she looked around for her dress.
“It’s under my desk,” I pointed out to her.
She picked it up and slipped it on, over her head. I got up and offered my shirt to her. “Sam’
s outside,” I said. “And that dress is…a little more information than he needs.”
“Thanks,” she laughed.
Madison pulled my shirt around her shoulders. It swallowed her completely, but I liked it anyway. She leaned in and kissed me again. I pulled on my pants and walked her outside. I could hear Sam and John in the kitchen, but I didn’t stop to say hi.
“I have a confession to make,” I said, when we were on the porch.
“Oh?”
“I found myself talking to Polo yesterday,” I admitted. “I was talking to him like he was a real person, as though he could talk back.”
Madison smiled. “As long as he didn’t tell you all the things I’ve told him about you, that’s okay.” She gave me a wink and a kiss and headed off to her house. I watched her until she’d disappeared through her front door and then I walked into the house towards the kitchen.
The moment I walked in, John and Sam stood dramatically. Then they started slow clapping as though I were some kind of hero. I rolled my eyes and shook my head at them. “You guys are so fucking lame.”
The two of them sat back down and I could see that the atmosphere had relaxed considerably since the day before. I took a seat and accepted the glass of juice John passed to me.
Before Madison and Victor had arrived the day before, I had explained in part what had happened at her house to Sam and John. Both had been suitably shocked, but I was relieved and gratified to realize that they both agreed with my decision.
“How is Madison?” John asked.
“She seemed pretty fucking happy,” Sam interjected. “What I saw of her, at least.”
I punched him in the arm and ignored his loud groan. “Obviously, she’s relieved. She didn’t want to have to see her brother get dragged off to jail.”
“What’s his plan?” John asked.