Addicted to Sin

by Monica James

  “Nice ink,” she says, her eyes zeroing in on my ribs.

  “Thanks,” I reply, rubbing over the tattoo.

  “‘We are never so defenseless against suffering as when we love,’” she says, tilting her head to the side and reading out the cursive text. “That’s really beautiful.”

  “I think you mean pathetic,” I correct, and Madison raises an eyebrow, confused by my response.

  However, her mouth parts a second later. She understands what I mean. “You got that because of your ex-fiancée?” she asks, and I nod.

  “See, pathetic.”

  I turn toward the dresser and open my drawer with the intention to grab a T-shirt, but Madison charges forward and latches onto my bicep. Looking down at her hand, I expect her to remove it, but she doesn’t. She loosens her grip, but doesn’t let go. She takes a step closer, while I take one back.

  “Tell me what happened,” she gently coaxes, but I break free from her hold.

  “No,” I bluntly reply, and instantly feel guilty when I see Madison lower her eyes, wounded by my curt response. “I just don’t want to bore you with the pathetic details of my fucked-up relationship because there’s not much to tell. I fell in love with someone who I thought loved me back, I proposed, bought her this apartment,” I say, spreading my arms out wide. “And in return, she fucked my best friend, got pregnant, got married, and lived happily ever after.”

  Damn, where the hell did that come from? I thought I was over Lily, but obviously, I’m not. And I don’t think I will ever make peace with her betrayal.

  But looking down at Madison, who has a hand pressed over her mouth, and her honest eyes filled with tears, I know she is the reason for my outburst. Now that Madison is standing before me, looking absolutely at peace in my home, and with my friends, I know I want more.

  I haven’t felt this way in so long, and go figure, the girl I’m attracted to, both inside and out, is unattainable because of a little thing called a boyfriend. But I can’t help but think back to what Hunter said. He’s right, she hasn’t mentioned him all night, and she is here, sleeping in my bed, not his.

  Madison’s words from last night come flooding back, and the reason why she’s here is because she wants to be. I make her feel safe, and for someone who seems fearful most of the time, it makes sense that she’s drawn to a place that gives her a sense of security.

  I don’t know why she’s afraid, but I’ll try my hardest to make sure she’s never scared again. Whether that’s as her friend, or something more, I’ll take whatever she wants to give because, right now, I’m her fucking slave.

  “I’m going out for a cigarette.” I reach for the deck off my dresser and open up the balcony doors.

  Placing a Marlboro between my lips, I light it and relish in the first much-needed drag. I rest my elbows on the railing and look at the world below, hating how everything looks so simple for everyone, while I’m up shit creek without a paddle.

  There was always something more, and I was foolish to choose sex over her because that’s what I did. I could have had Madison, but instead I chose the easy way, because sex is less complicated than…feeling. But now all I feel is my resolve slipping whenever I’m around this remarkable woman.

  “Dixon?” Madison’s voice softly sounds behind me.

  Taking a final drag, I butt out my smoke and brush away the nicotine-filled air. “Hey,” I reply, but I don’t turn around. I just stare at the world spinning below.

  “I’m sorry if I upset you. I shouldn’t have asked. I know how hard it is talking about something life-changing that’s happened in your past,” she confesses, and I nod, but still don’t turn around.

  I can hear her bare feet pad across the ground, and when she stands beside me, I feel the regret radiating off her body.

  “It’s okay.” I slowly turn to face her.

  Out here in the moonlight, she looks so ethereal and pure. Her long, dark hair catches in the slight breeze, and her signature fragrance once again has my sense of smell salivating in desire. Her large green eyes look apprehensive and scared, and I realize she’s worried that I’m angry at her.

  “It really is okay. I’m not angry at you,” I confirm, giving her a small smile.

  “Are you sure?” she anxiously questions, biting her lower lip.

  “I’m sure.” I nod. “Lily is…a touchy subject for me. She’s someone I really want to forget, but I know I never will. But in a way, that’s good, as it’s a reminder of what to avoid in my next partner.”

  Madison looks to be deep in thought, but I don’t expect her to reply, because what can she say—get over it, perhaps?

  Just as I suggest we go back inside, Madison surprises me by confessing, “Well, she’s a fucking idiot.”

  I pull back, stunned, as Madison rarely swears, but I smile, appreciating her impassioned response. “It’s fine. You live and you learn,” I say, which is clichéd, but holds some truth.

  Madison, however, doesn’t agree with the saying. “That’s bullshit,” she scowls, lightly thumping her fist against the railing.

  I’m surprised by her statement, and allow her to explain.

  “What lesson did you learn from getting your heart ripped out by the one person you loved and trusted the most?” she asks, but I know her comment is not a question, but rather a statement.

  I remain quiet, because I know there’s more to come.

  “What lesson did you learn from her betraying you in unspeakable ways?”

  Madison’s breath begins to catch in her throat, and when a choked sob tries to break free, she puts a hand over her mouth, not wanting to show any vulnerability.

  “All you learned is that life is one messed-up, sadistic bitch.” A single tear falls down her cheek, betraying the fact that we’re no longer talking about me, but rather her.

  The need to comfort her is overpowering, and I’m powerless to stop it. “Hey, it’s okay.” I gently rub her arm and watch more tears fall.

  It appears now that they’ve started, they don’t seem to want to stop. But that’s okay; she can cry a river of tears, because I have no intention of moving an inch.

  “Let it out,” I say, and without thinking, I step forward and embrace her.

  She comes willingly, nuzzling into my body, and the moment I comfort her, the soundless sobs begin to rack her fragile frame.

  Her tiny fingers dig into my shoulders while she cries into my chest. I’m not sure how long we stand with her clutching at me like I’m her lifeline, but I don’t care. She can hold onto me for as long as she likes, because each cry seems to lessen her pain.

  After a while, her sobs become less frequent until they gradually turn into small sniffles, and then heavy breathing. I don’t know what’s set this off, but it may explain her unusual behavior earlier.

  “I’m s-sorry,” she stumbles, her voice small and plagued with discarded tears.

  “Why on earth are you apologizing?” I ask, my arms still enclosing her.

  “For behaving like one of your patients,” she replies, attempting to appear lighthearted.

  “It’s okay. You get the VIP treatment.”

  Pulling back slightly, she looks up at me, confused.

  “I don’t usually cuddle my patients,” I explain, but fail to mention I have no qualms sleeping with them.

  “Oh,” she says guiltily, pulling away.

  But I hold on tight, not allowing her to move an inch. “But lucky for us, you’re not one of my patients,” I say, brushing her tears away with my thumb.

  “Thank you, Dixon. That’s the first time I’ve cried in a very long time.”

  “How’d it feel?”

  “Good,” she replies with a sad smile.

  “Well, anytime you need this—” I pat my right shoulder “—it’s yours.”

  It’s meant to be a joke, but Madison’s eyes widen and it appears she’s only just realized she’s been pressing against my bare chest, because she quickly pulls out of my arms and blushes as sh
e looks at my body. Her eyes linger on my stomach, and as they briefly drop down to my crotch, my very attentive body jumps to attention, and things begin twitching below the belt. I’m semi-hard by a look alone.

  But I stand proud, because I want her to know this response is elicited because of her.

  Madison steps forward, and with apprehensive fingers, she reaches out and touches the dip between my collarbones. The moment her trembling fingers make contact with my skin, I hiss in pleasure because her movements are slow and measured. With the tips of her fingers, she then slowly glides down my torso, stopping just above my heart. I never take my eyes off of her. I’ve never experienced something as erotic, because I know her exploration of my willing body is probably her first time.

  With fumbling fingers, she moves to one pec muscle, her pointer finger lightly circling my nipple, while I barely contain the moan caught in my throat. I watch with heated desire as she bites her lip, her small teeth rolling her ruby flesh backward and forward.

  But still, I don’t say a word.

  She moves across to the other nipple, and as she passes her thumb over it, my dick jumps to attention and I’m now fully hard. Her eyes drop to my tenting sweats and instead of seeing fear, I see desire. I almost come in my pants because it’s a sight worth coming for.

  As much as I want to reach out and touch her, I don’t. I remain utterly still and allow her to take control. With delicate apprehension, she slides her fingers down my middle and detours to my ribs, tracing over my tattoo. A single touch has never felt so intimate, and I hum low, about ready to explode.

  “I don’t think it’s pathetic. I think it shows what you did in order to survive.” She sweeps her long hair to one side as she bends forward, laying a single kiss on my flank.

  Her lips feel like a shot of adrenalin to my starved body, and I shudder under her gentle touch. She lays another kiss, and then another, and another down the length of my tattoo, until her lips rest at my waist. Both of her hands are wrapped around my hips, and she’s bent low to get full access to my obliques. The sensual sight evokes images of her wrapping her lips around my straining dick and bringing this home. But I won’t have her on her knees on this cold, hard floor pleasuring me, because all I can think about is seeing her explode because of my hand.

  “Come here,” I say, my voice hoarse, filled with longing.

  Madison slowly rises, standing to full height. We face one another, inches apart, both our chests rising and falling, both anticipating what comes next. Madison surprises me, however, as she’s the one who makes the first move. She edges forward and places a hand over my racing heart, and slowly raises her mouth to mine, our breaths mingling into one.

  But before this happens, I need to make sure this is what she wants and she’s not just lost in the moment.

  “If you kiss me,” I roughly state, my gaze locked with hers. “You can’t take it back.”

  “I don’t want to take it back,” she whispers, her warm breath caressing my cheeks, her eyes filled with molten desire.

  “Good,” I growl, before swooping forward and devouring her mouth with an impassioned need.

  The kiss is frenzied, and we don’t start out slow. It’s a race to determine who can consume the other person first.

  I wrap one hand around Madison’s waist, and with the other, I fist her long hair, using it as leverage so I can dominate her mouth. She’s gasping and moaning, her lithe body writhing against mine, and her jarring movements are rubbing over my dick in the most delicious way possible. She throws both arms around my neck, pulling my mouth down to hers, and the hunger I feel controls my actions as I walk her backward into my room, my lips never leaving hers.

  She comes willingly, and the moment the back of her knees hit the edge of the mattress, she falls backward, pulling me down with her. My huge body dwarfs her tiny frame, and I try to take my full weight off of her by resting up on my elbows. She folds her strong legs around me and pulls me down on top of her.

  I can’t get enough of her and every frenzied kiss I deliver, she kisses me back twice as hard. Her tongue duels with mine, and her desire is like an aphrodisiac within itself. Before long, I’m tearing at her top, needing to feel her bare skin against mine.

  I manage to yank her tee off without parting with her mouth for longer than two seconds, and then I’m back on her, kissing her like I might expire without her lips. Her legs scissor beneath me, and I know she wants a release. I plan on giving her one—and giving it to her good.

  As hard as it is, I pull my mouth away from hers and she takes a much-needed breath, her chest rising and falling so quickly her juicy, bouncy breasts almost spill free from her black lacy bra. My cock jolts at the sight, and Madison gasps, her eyes widening, as I’m pressed against her core.

  “Is this okay?” I breathlessly ask, my brain able to see through the lust for a mere moment.

  “Yes,” she pants, biting her lip. “Keep going.”

  That’s all the response I need and I kiss the side of her mouth before working my way down her elongated neck, which she tips backward, granting me full access to her delicious-smelling skin. I kiss over her racing pulse, and I can’t help but draw her flesh into my mouth and mark her, as I want the world to know I’m the person responsible for the red, passionate wound.

  She moans and gasps, and my fuck, those sounds have my dick punching a hole through my pants, demanding to break out and join the party. Her skin pops free, and I kiss lower and lower until I reach the junction of her swelling breasts. I pull back, needing a moment to really appreciate their beauty because they are the hottest tits I have ever seen.

  “These are fucking amazing,” I say, cupping one full mound, and then the other.

  Madison moans and arches into my touch, my hand barely covering her pillows of perfection.

  Her bra is black lace, and as her tight pink nipples poke through the see-through material, my mouth waters. When I lower the lace cup, her boob pops free, and I growl low in my throat, as the sight is like nothing I’ve ever seen before.

  “Holy shit.”I sigh in appreciation. “I knew they were incredible.” I reach forward, gently plucking her nipple while she shivers. “But tits as perfect as these should be illegal.” I bend forward, capturing her nipple into my mouth.

  She cries out and wriggles beneath me, encouraging me to continue as she threads her fingers through my hair and pulls hard.

  “Oh my God,” she whimpers, her head trashing from side to side.

  “You like that, angelo?” I ask around her nipple, while she groans in response.

  I can’t help myself and it’s like a boob buffet as I place my hand underneath her heavy breast and suck it into my mouth. Fuck whoever said a handful is more than enough because right now, I’m swimming in tits and I want more.

  I yank down the other cup and brush my thumb over her nipple while tonguing the other something wicked.

  “Oh, fuck,” she half cries, half yells, her fingers yanking at my hair, her hips rising to meet my raging hard-on, and the movement sends me wild.

  Still sucking and laving at her breast, I walk my hand down between us, wanting to feel her muscles clench around my fingers when she comes, calling out my name. I unsnap her button and the moment I do, I feel her body freeze underneath me. But my brain and body are two separate entities and I keep going, my need to bury myself within her fueling my every move.

  I lower her zipper and am madly trying to seek refuge inside, but her words have me halting instantly. I pull my hand out like I’ve just been burned.

  “No. No. No. No.” Madison is repeating over and over, her voice low and guttural, her eyes shut tight, her head moving from side to side.

  “Madison?” I ask, pulling away, alarmed by her obvious distress.

  She seems to be in a trance, so I instantly get off of her and gently shake her shoulder, as I’m concerned she’s stuck in an awful memory—a memory I resurfaced because of my greedy hands.

  “Madison,” I
say, louder this time, shaking her shoulder a touch harder, as I’m afraid she’ll go into shock.

  “Don’t touch me!” she cries, her face a deathly white.

  I pull my hands away and sit back on my heels. Not touching her seems to calm her down, but her anguished wails reveal she’s still lost in the past.

  “Madison, it’s Dixon. You’re safe, angelo. No one is going to hurt you. I’m here…shh, I’m here.”

  My words have the desired effect and her weeping dies down to small, weakened cries. But I wait and allow her to crawl out of her nightmare, because these are her demons, and she needs to be ready to face them on her own.

  Her eyes slowly slip open, red and raw from crying, and she looks around the room, frantically taking in her surroundings. She calms down when she sees where she is, which is obviously not where she thought she was.

  “Madison?” I ask cautiously, my hands raised, showing I mean no harm. “Are you okay? What just happened?”

  The moment she hears my voice, her terrified eyes meets mine, and then drop to her exposed chest. Her once white cheeks are now stained a bright red, and her hands fly up to cover her nakedness.

  “Oh, God, what have I done?” she whispers, fresh tears filling her eyes.

  She jumps up and rearranges herself as she frantically slips on her tee, her eyes darting around the room, looking for her bag. “I’m sorry, I have to go,” she says in a rushed breath, but she won’t meet my eyes.

  “Madison, talk to me,” I demand, leaping off the bed and reaching for her arm.

  The moment I touch her, however, she recoils so quickly she hits her elbow on the dresser and curses, but that doesn’t stop her mad dash toward the door.

  “Just leave me alone. Please,” she begs, storming into the living room.

  But I will not. I need to know what happened because some heavy shit just went down, and I need to know why.

  “No, how about you talk to me? Tell me what happened. Tell me what happened to you,” I add, and Madison looks as if I’ve slapped her.