Chapter 66

MADDISON

Sex has always been a source of pain for me, the physical and emotional scars a constant reminder of my past. But with Asher, it was different—at least until the end. The climax was something else entirely, a wave of pleasure that swept me away, leaving me helpless in its wake.

I felt like I was adrift in the ocean, surrounded by nothing but the night sky and the gentle lapping of the waves. It was my first taste of true sexual satisfaction, and I feared it might be my last. The pleasure exploded within me, spreading through my body like an octopus reaching out with its tentacles.

But then came the pain. It started in the lower right side of my stomach, spreading outward—the contractions of my climax bringing with it a wave of agony. It was as if my body refused to let me enjoy a moment of pure happiness.

It felt like being stabbed with a red-hot poker. The most intense pain I’ve ever felt, replacing the pleasure and tainting it with fear.

Thankfully, Asher moves away, giving me the space I need but wouldn’t have asked for. I watch him as he dresses, moving around the room as if he has somewhere else to be.

It could easily be mistaken for a quickie. And I could pretend that’s all it was—a quickie with the man who loves me.

Maybe he rushed home from work after I sent him a nude picture, and even in my imagination, I wouldn’t change how he made love to me. Compared to the others who’ve used me, Asher is the most attentive lover I’ve ever had.

He picks up his phone and makes a call. I take the opportunity to turn my attention away from him as he talks to his father.

“You okay?” His voice brings me back to the present—back to him and the pain.

I struggle to keep my composure as he wipes away the tears I didn’t realize I’d shed.

“I’m fine,” I say, my voice distant.

“I’m not good at this, Maddison. I’m a hit-and-run kind of guy…” he admits.

“I didn’t expect anything more,” I confess. I knew this about him, and it doesn’t upset me.

“Then why are you crying?” he asks.

“It’s nothing,” I lie.

“But it is…” he insists, trying to get to the bottom of my tears.

“Go to your father, Asher. Don’t waste your time trying to get blood from a stone,” I snap.

He lingers for a moment, his gaze intense, but then he gets up and leaves me alone.

“I’ll bring back dinner. Don’t bother cooking,” he says. But if the girls are hungry, I won’t make them wait. They’ve gone without food for far too long.

He leaves without any further ado, and for that, I’m grateful. I curl up on my side, staring out the window, letting the pain wash over me. It feels like something inside me is tearing apart, and no matter how much I press my hand against my stomach, the relief never comes.

And that’s how I stay until sleep finally claims me.

***

I wake up briefly in the middle of the night when Asher gets into bed. I know I should leave, go to the girls and comfort them, but I stay where I am, letting the mattress pull me closer to him.

His scent hits me first, a cologne that isn’t his. And like any curious woman, I can’t help but sniff, trying to place the unfamiliar smell.

I think I hear him chuckle, a low, emotionless sound, as he pulls the duvet over me. My stomach still hurts, a dull ache on my right side that decided to make its presence known while I was asleep.

But I ignore the pain and close my eyes. Asher’s body is close enough to provide the warmth I need, but he doesn’t invade my personal space. He doesn’t reach for me or kiss me like he did earlier.

And as I wait for sleep to claim me again, I reflect on our encounter. I guess it was always destined to end up this way—us sleeping together even though we’re not a couple or even particularly compatible. Yet, there’s always been this spark between us, like the kind of heat that might flare up between two best friends after a few too many drinks.

It’s a bit sad, really, because he’s the first man I’ve ever chosen to sleep with. The first man to reciprocate the affection I’ve given him.

He’s the first man I’ve ever reached climax with. The first man to kiss me gently and hold me with such intensity.

So many firsts, with a man I could never truly be with. He’s just too gentle, too affectionate.

Too…considerate. That’s the heartbreaking part, but I’m also kind of glad that I’ve gotten to experience that side of intimacy.

I’ll have someone to remember when I finally manage to escape from Sanctum. Maybe one day, when I’m free to choose my own path and the people I want in my life, I’ll think back to Asher and the gentle way he loved me even though we weren’t a couple.

Perhaps I can use him as a benchmark for the men I choose to be with in the future. But for now, he can be that dream I once had that gets lost in the chaos of my everyday life.

The one that resurfaces every now and then to bring a smile to my face and a spring in my step when I have one of those strange orgasms in my dreams.