Translucent

by Erin Noelle

  Madden slides the feather down my sternum to the underside of my breasts, circling each mound before moving the silky object over my nipples. Each bud swells and hardens under the light caressing, and my back naturally arches, pressing my chest into the touch. The feather then descends down my abdomen, tracing down my ribcage and across my hipbone to my parted thighs. Gliding the fine tendrils down the sensitive skin of one inner thigh, and then back up again, he stops directly before it comes in contact with my already-slick lower lips, and changes legs to repeat the same erotically tantalizing treatment.

  Placing his strong hand under my hip, he coaxes me to roll over onto my belly. The mixture of his cologne and shampoo lingers on the pillowcase, and I inhale deeply, allowing the delicious scents to flood my nostrils. He then drags the feather in a swirling pattern down my spine to the small of my back, circling my ass with the soft tip and outlining each cheek before skimming it slowly down between them. I lift my hips into the air, craving the sensation on my exposed pussy as a tinge of naughty delight surges through me, aware of the view I’m giving him. The feather dips down to brush across my bare lips, the silky sensation enflaming an intense inferno of lust deep in my center.

  “Oh, please…” I moan greedily.

  “You like that?” he asks as he strokes my aching sex several more times.

  “Yes, Sir,” I reply, purring with pleasure.

  He withdraws the feather and gently taps my ass with his hand, indicating I need to lie down flat. The light tickling sensation begins again on my upper thigh as the feather slithers down the back of my leg, lingering at the sensitive skin directly behind my knee, and ending at my heel before moving to the other leg and following the same trail.

  The bed dips again with his weight as he repositions himself by my feet. Taking my foot in his hand, he lifts it to his mouth and leaves a trail of kisses from my ankle to my toes. He massages the arch of my foot with his fingers as he presses his lips to skin, and when his tongue darts out of his mouth, sweeping across the tip of my toes, a surprised shriek flies from my lips.

  Before I can oppose what I think he’s about to do, Madden draws my pinky toe in- between his lips and sucks lightly. “Oh my God,” I mutter into the pillow, the carnal pleasure of the act suffocating any embarrassment I may feel from having him taste my toes. For several minutes, he indulges me with the zealous fervor of his mouth and the graceful movement of his velvety tongue around my toes. Giving all ten digits an equal amount of attention, I swear I can feel the tugging from his sucking lips inside my pussy.

  He rests my leg back down on the sheets and slides his hand under my stomach, rolling me back over to my original position. In one fluid motion, he slightly spreads my thighs and settles between them. With his sultry tongue, he traces along my inner thigh, leaving a trail of goose bumps in his wake as he gradually treks his way up to my throbbing core. Halting just before he reaches my smooth, slick lips, he exhales a breath of hot air at my apex, and my inner walls clench in response. Moving his mouth to my other leg, he kisses and nibbles his way up my thigh until his lips hover inches away from my pussy, purposefully puffing another draft of warm air against my shivering skin.

  “Madden,” I groan, “please.”

  Teasing me, he drags his warm, wet tongue up the right edge of my mound, tracing the perimeter of my labia, and then runs it lazily up the other side, bringing it torturously close to where I want it. With measured sluggishness, he swipes it directly through the center, from bottom to top and back down again, effortlessly separating my flaming folds with his blazing tongue. A guttural mewl resonates deep in my throat as he tantalizingly sweeps the slick, talented probe along my lips before drawing each one into his mouth, sucking and nipping them separately and then together.

  He moves his focus up to my pulsating clit, swollen and hard, begging to be touched. He flicks his tongue lightly across it before pulling it in-between his teeth and sucking forcefully. Bringing me to the brink of an orgasm nearly immediately, my hips writhe furiously underneath him as I prepare to welcome my release. Suddenly, he pulls his mouth from my pussy, leaving me hanging by a fragile thread.

  My sense of sound picks up on the rustling of foil, followed by a few seconds of silence, and then the sudden gratification of his cock slamming into my drenched core. I cry out his name again as I hold on tightly to the headboard, my walls stretching to accommodate his rock-hard cock. He plunges his rigid rod into me until he’s completely submerged in my scorching wetness, and then pulls back until only the tip is still concealed in my folds. Another long, smooth stroke of his hips and he’s buried inside again as he begins a steady rhythm of thrusts in and out of me, propelling me higher and higher into sexual bliss. His cock feels incredible, a throbbing, stiff shaft of pure masculinity gliding in and out of me, feeding my insatiable desire for him. Spreading my legs even further, I draw them up to my chest, urging him to drive as deep into me as physically possible. I can’t get enough.

  “I’m going to explode. Please, Sir, say the words,” I beg through my panted breaths.

  “Not yet,” he warns as he withdraws his cock from my body.

  “Nooo,” I wail, desperate to unravel the tightly wound knot of sexual tension built up inside of me.

  His mouth crashes onto my pussy, kissing, sucking, lapping, and slurping, not missing a single inch of flesh before his tongue dips into my slit. Then, as quickly as he pulled out moments ago, his shaft thrusts back into me, resuming the tempo from before. Alternating between his cock and his mouth, fucking me and then licking me, he decadently torments my mind and body as he brings me close to release and then forces a retreat. Frustrated, I remove my hands from the headboard and grab his shoulders, digging my nails into the taut muscles. Grumbling, he pauses his movement, grabs both of my wrists in his hands, and pins them above my head.

  Unable to neither see nor use my hands as Madden’s cock strokes in and out of me, I ascend up the mountain again, growing closer and closer to the point of no return; I’m trapped in the vortex of sensation surging around my sweltering core.

  “Now, sweet girl. Come for me,” he commands hoarsely. And I obey.

  Every muscle in my body tightens, my neck tilts back further into the pillow, my mouth falls open in a silent scream, and I surrender to the over-powering need to let it all go. The orgasm claims my body, crashing through me with an exquisite eruption of ecstasy as I soar in unadulterated freedom. My eyes scrunch shut behind the blindfold and I attempt to lift my arms, but his hands keep them firmly in place. I arch my back and buck my hips upwards as my pussy walls clench tightly around his erection, immersing him in my scorching juices as he plunges deeper inside. My center quivers and quakes for several minutes as wave after wave of carnal exhilaration rolls through me, my mind flying freely through endless euphoria.

  “Fuck,” he moans huskily.

  Madden continues to fuck me with a newfound urgency, pounding into my still-pulsating core. He threads his fingers through mine, still keeping my hands above my head as he increases his pace. Breathing heavily, he hammers me harder and harder, not holding anything back. I tilt my hips and press myself forward to meet his thrusts, silently telling him I eagerly want everything he has to give. He moans as he repeatedly slams into me, drops of sweat dripping from his body onto mine, and I can sense he’s close. I want him to come hard, to experience the same thing I did minutes ago.

  Several more strokes and he plunges hard into me, his body tightening as he emits a loud feral growl. Holding himself steady, his cock twitches and pulsates inside me, his release finally achieved. For several moments, neither of us moves nor says a word. Eventually, he slides out of me and releases my hands, rolling onto his side. Lifting the blindfold, his glossed over blue eyes greet me along with a lazy smile.

  “Hi, sweet girl,” he drawls out languidly, brushing my wild, sweaty hair from my face. He leans over and kisses me passionately, expressing his gratitude for my willingness to try something new.


  “Hi, Sir,” I whisper playfully as our mouths part.

  “It’s Madden now,” he corrects me, wrapping his arms around my middle and pulling me even closer to him, making me feel cherished and treasured.

  Snugly pressed against him, I lay in disbelief of what just happened. He kept me blind, he kept me bound, and in doing so, he set me free.

  Free to feel.

  Free to not think.

  Free to just be.

  He made me forget everything and everyone else in the world, past and present, and nothing mattered except him and me…nothing but us.

  TUESDAY MORNING, MADDEN drops me off at home on his way to the office as promised. Needless to say, after last night, I’m more than thrilled he insisted I go back to his house with him one more night, as I’m still floating around weightlessly like the feather he used to seduce me with.

  Aware of the amount of work he’s missed because of me, as well as the mounting issues with his brother, when he drops me off, I insist he spends the next several days getting caught up with everything, no matter how badly I know I’ll miss him. I can only imagine how far behind I’m going to be when I finally return to my office tomorrow, if Jae hasn’t booted me from the project already. I’m going to need a few days to be brought up to speed as well.

  “Slow and steady,” I repeat his words to him when he tries to argue, and after several assertive kisses, he agrees.

  “Okay, but you spend the weekend at my house,” he concedes with another passionate kiss, “and check in with me regularly…and promise you’ll call me immediately if you have any episodes. I’m going to worry about you.”

  I climb out of the car before we end up stripping each other in the parking lot of my apartment complex. “I promise and I’ll be fine, but I’ll check in as often as you’d like.”

  “Oh, and next Sunday afternoon, my parents are having a small birthday thing for me. They can’t wait to meet you,” he says casually.

  I freeze mid-movement. “What did you just say?” I ask. “Your parents want to meet me? I’m not sure—”

  “Blake,” he warns, lifting his brow, “it will be fine. It’ll just be a few close family friends, delicious food, and a good time, and yes, they want to meet you. They’re very nice, if not over-the-top at times, but they will love you just like I do. Please trust me.”

  The emphasis he places on the last three words pulls the right strings in my heart, and I nod hesitantly. “Okay, I’ll go, but you have to promise if I start to have an anxiety attack you’ll get me out of there. I don’t want your parents to see me like that.”

  “I promise you, sweet girl. Now get your cute ass inside before it starts to rain,” he says glancing out the window at the looming gray clouds. “I’ll see you Friday night.”

  “See you then,” I call out over my shoulder. I scurry inside as large raindrops begin to fall from the sky, wondering if he really just said what I thought he did. Shaking my head, I chalk his words up to a figure of speech, not actually meaning he loves me, loves me. Yeah, that’s it.

  My apartment is exactly as I left over a week ago, sans the vomit on my bedroom floor, which I need to thank him for cleaning up…but something feels different about it. It no longer feels like the enclosed space I’ve been confined in for the past few months, the place where I physically stayed, but refused to live in. Instead, I now view it as an opportunity…a fresh start…a representation of my freedom from the life that once held me prisoner. The healing wounds on my ribcage remind me I’m still a long way from escaping the haunting memories, but maybe, just maybe, I can learn to truly live again. I have no control over whether or not Vincent Ricci ever stops looking for me, or if he finds me, but I do hold the power to make the best of my time until that day comes, if ever. I’m only as free as I allow myself to be.

  Free to work at a job I enjoy.

  Free to make friends.

  Free to go out in public.

  Free to give myself to Madden.

  I spend the better part of the morning doing laundry and tidying up a bit, trying not to think about Madden, but it’s nearly impossible with as much time as we’ve spent together recently. I love the way his gorgeous azure eyes light up when he sees me, how the right side of his mouth curls higher than the left when he flashes me his panty-melting smile, and the inherent way my body responds to his deep voice. Both his words and actions make me feel safe, secure, and adored. Natural. Being with him just feels natural.

  By late afternoon, all the rain has passed and all my chores are complete, despite being interrupted numerous times by Madden’s flirtatious text messages. My stomach grumbles loudly, reminding me I haven’t eaten since breakfast, and since Sarah’s been shoveling food down my throat every chance she gets, my appetite has grown substantially. I meander over to the refrigerator to grab a quick bite, but am overwhelmingly disappointed with its contents—damn near nothing. Sliding my feet into some flip-flops, I grab my purse, phone, and keys and make my way to the grocery store, an outing I used to fret over for hours, but not today.

  Over an hour later, I’m driving home with a trunk full of plastic bags, having purchased more food in one shopping trip than I have in the last year-and-a-half combined. I’m not quite sure how in the world I’m ever going to eat this much stuff, but I was having so much fun I couldn’t stop throwing things in the basket. Maybe I’ll pull up some recipes online and cook for Madden soon.

  As I unload the plethora of groceries from my car to my apartment, I realize the downside of having an upstairs unit. Seven trips back and forth to the parking lot is how many it takes to get everything from the trunk to my kitchen table. Exhausted from the two miles I’ve walked in the muggy afternoon heat, I plop down on one of the dining room chairs and stare at the bags like they’re going to unpack and put themselves away. Laughing aloud to myself, I make a mental note to not get quite this enthusiastic on my next outing.

  It takes a while to rearrange my pantry and freezer, making sure everything is in its proper place, and when I’m almost finished, Madden messages that something’s come up at the office, and it appears he’s going to work later than he initially thought. Feeling even guiltier than before, I know this is because of me keeping him out of work, so riding my courageous wave, I decide to put my plan of cooking for him into action immediately. Even though it was my adamancy about not seeing each other again until Friday, I’m sure he’ll appreciate me delivering a freshly-cooked dinner to his office.

  One of my favorite things to cook is King Ranch chicken casserole; plus, it travels well, so I get right down to business. Once the rectangular, glass dish is in the oven baking, I take a quick shower to freshen up, apply a little bit of makeup, and throw on a long black sundress. When the timer alerts me the casserole is ready, I retrieve it from the oven and place it in a box to prevent it from burning my hands or the seat in my car, along with some plates and silverware. Excited to deliver my surprise, I hurry down the stairs and make my trek to Glendale. Having only been there once before with Mr. Thompson and Jae, I pull up the address of his office on my phone to be sure I remember where it is and which floor.

  Thankfully, neither the doors to the building nor the elevators are locked when I arrive, and before long, I’m entering the offices of Decker Enterprises. Being the late hour, the receptionist is already gone for the day, and I don’t see anyone else around to ask where Madden’s office is. Unsure of what to do exactly, I quietly begin to walk around, looking for another person or some sign of where he may be. Hearing some voices down one of the halls, I hesitantly stride towards them, hoping I don’t startle anyone.

  “Hello? Is anyone there?” I call out meekly, announcing my presence, instead of just walking in on someone.

  The voices are coming from behind a partially-closed door with no indication of whose office it is. Knocking lightly, I call out again. “Hello? Is someone here? I need some help.”

  I hear a vaguely familiar female voice mutter, “Oh shit. Who the fuck is t
hat?” Followed by a grumble of a male voice, and a rustle and bustle of I don’t know what. Clothes? Papers? I’m afraid to open the door, so I stand there and wait, hoping whoever’s in there will come out. A couple of minutes later, Emerson gradually opens the door and peeks her head out. Her red-tinted curls are a disheveled mess, as is her flushed face, and she’s breathing harder than normal. It’s rather obvious what I’ve just interrupted.

  “Oh, it’s you,” she snarls at me, crossing her arms across her chest. “What are you doing here?”

  Her overt rudeness completely catches me off-guard. “I’m…um, I’m looking for Madden’s office. I brought him dinner,” I explain, glancing down at the box I’m holding in my arms.

  “Oh, well isn’t that sweet?” The sarcasm rolls thickly off her words.

  “Who is it, Em? What’s going on?” the other very recognizable deep voice asks.

  My heart plummets into the pit of my stomach. Hot tears prick the backs of my eyes. My mouth waters as bile builds in the back of my throat.

  A large hand grabs the door and swings it open, revealing a half-dressed Easton standing behind her. He smiles brightly when he sees me. “Oh, hey, it’s just you,” he says, brushing past Emerson in the doorway. Giving me a modified hug around the bulky container I’m holding, he asks, “What are you doing over here?”

  I exhale a giant sigh of relief, finding my voice again. “I’m bringing Madden dinner since he had to work late, but I got lost trying to find his office,” I explain with a shy smile.

  He chuckles and walks further into the hall. “Stay right there, Emerson, I’ll be back after I take Blake to Madden.”

  I don’t turn around to watch her stomp back into the room they were in; I fall into step next to Easton, allowing him to lead me to where I want to be. He doesn’t bother knocking or with a verbal alert to announce we’re there; instead, he barges right in.