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Chapter 233
Madison
“You want me to stop calling you Mr. Knight?” I asked, watching his expression carefully.
His fingers traced a lazy pattern on my knee. “When we’re like this, yes. It seems unnecessary.”
I bit my lip, considering the implications. “What exactly should I call you then? Some pet name?” I raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the couch. “Something like honey? Sweetheart? Big guy?” I couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at my lips.
His eyes darkened, fingers digging slightly into my thigh. “Don’t push it, Madison.”
“What? I’m just exploring options here,” I said innocently, enjoying the flash of irritation crossing his face. “I mean, if we’re getting informal, I should know the parameters.”
“Alexander will do just fine,” he said, voice clipped. “My actual name.”
I tilted my head, studying him. “Alexander,” I tested the name on my tongue, feeling a strange intimacy.” Seems rather formal still. And long.”
“It’s four syllables,” he pointed out dryly.
“Exactly. In the heat of the moment, that’s a lot to get out. What about Alex?”
“Alex is… acceptable.”
“Really?” I hadn’t expected him to agree so easily. “I figured you’d be the type to insist on your full name.”
“I’m not as rigid as you seem to think,” he replied, his hand sliding higher up my thigh.
“Your cock would suggest otherwise,” I shot back, immediately blushing at my own boldness.
He barked out a laugh, genuine and unrestrained. “Fuck, I like this side of you.”
The storm outside intensified, rain lashing against the windows as lightning illuminated his face. In that brief flash, I caught something in his eyes, something beyond lust or amusement.
“Well, if I’m Alex, then Madison is also quite a mouthful,” he mused, fingers drawing circles on my inner thigh. “Perhaps we should shorten yours too. Mad, perhaps?”
I stared at him incredulously. “Mad? Are you serious?”
“What’s wrong with Mad?” His lips twitched with barely suppressed humor.
“You want to call me an adjective for insane?” I scoffed, swatting his hand away. “That’s what’s wrong with it.”
“It’s just a nickname,” he insisted, capturing my hand and bringing it to his lips. “A term of endearment.”
“If you start calling me Mad, I will actually go mad,” I warned, trying to ignore the way his lips brushed against my knuckles. “And not in a fun way.”
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“Fine,” he conceded, though his eyes still danced with mischief. “No Mad. Though I maintain it has a certain charm.”
“About as much charm as calling you Dickhead instead of Alexander,” I muttered.
His eyebrows shot up. “Careful, Madison. I might need to remind you who’s in charge here.”
“By all means, Alex,” 1 emphasized his shortened name with a smirk, “remind me.”
The way his eyes darkened at the challenge sent heat pooling between my thighs. His hand moved to cup my face, thumb brushing over my bottom lip. The pad of his thumb was slightly rough, catching on the sensitive skin as he traced the outline slowly.
“What do your friends call you?” he asked suddenly, his voice low and intimate.
I blinked, thrown by the question. “My friends?”
“Yes, Madison. The people you associate with when you’re not here, letting me fuck you senseless.” His thumb pressed slightly harder against my lip. “What name do they use?”
“Some call me Mads,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “Others call me Maddie.”
His eyes lit with interest. “Maddie,” he repeated, testing the name on his tongue.
Something about hearing him say it sent a shiver down my spine. It was too personal, too intimate, crossing a boundary I hadn’t realized existed until this moment.
“You don’t like it?” he asked, noticing my reaction.
“It’s not that,” I said, shifting slightly under his gaze. “It’s just… different. Hearing you say it.”
“Different good or different bad?”
I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant despite the fact that his hand was still cradling my face. “Just different. No one at work calls me that.”
“I’m not just someone at work, am I?” His eyes burned into mine, demanding acknowledgment.
“No,” I conceded. “You’re not.”
“Maddie,” he said again, more deliberately this time. “It suits you. Softer than Madison. Less formal.” His thumb traced my bottom lip again. “I like it.”
“And I’m supposed to care what you like?” I asked, attempting to regain some control.
His smile was slow and dangerous. “Considering how wet your pussy gets when I tell you what I like, I’d say yes.
My cheeks burned, but I refused to look away. “You’re awfully confident about that.”
“Should I check?” His free hand landed on my knee, fingers playing with the hem of my dress. “Slide my fingers between those gorgeous thighs and see just how much you don’t care?”
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I held his gaze, refusing to back down despite the heat flooding my body. His fingers continued their maddening path along my thigh, playing with the hem of my dress like it was a game. My breath hitched as his hand inched higher.
“Are you asking for my permission, Alex?” I challenged, arching an eyebrow. The nickname felt foreign on my tongue, but I enjoyed the flash of surprise in his eyes. “Because that would be a first. The great Alexander Knight, seeking approval before taking what he wants?”
His eyes darkened dangerously, fingers digging into my thigh with just enough pressure to make me gasp, “f don’t recall ever asking for permission to touch what’s mine, Maddie,” he drawled, the nickname rolling off his tongue like honey laced with poison. “And make no mistake–right now, in this suite, every inch of you belongs to me.”
“Is that so?” I shifted slightly, spreading my legs just enough to be an invitation. “And what if I said no?”
“You won’t,” he replied with infuriating confidence. “Your mouth might say no, but your body…” His hand slid higher, his fingers tracing the damp outline of my panties. “See? Already soaked for me.”
Before I could formulate a retort, his hand moved suddenly. There was a sharp tearing sound as he ripped my panties clean off, the delicate fabric giving way with embarrassing ease.
“What the fuck!” I gasped, more shocked than angry. “What am I supposed to wear tomorrow morning?”
He tossed the ruined panties aside, his hand returning to my bare thigh. “I can arrange something.”
“What, you keep spare panties for all your conquests?” The words came out sharper than I intended.
His eyes flashed. “No. But I can have whatever you need will be delivered by morning.” His fingers traced lazy circles on my inner thigh, deliberately avoiding where I needed him most. “Or you could wear nothing. The thought of you in that dress, bare underneath, throughout breakfast…” His voice dropped to a husky whisper. Knowing I could bend you over at any moment…‘
“You’re insatiable,” I breathed, my body betraying me as I shifted toward his touch.
“Only with you,” he admitted, something raw in his voice that made my heart stutter. “No one else makes me this fucking crazy.”
“Is that a compliment or a complaint?”
“Both.”
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Chapter 234
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
