ROTTEN LOVE - Chapter 48: Chapter 48

His lips are claiming and desperate. They are everything Maddox is not. He is someone who is proper and composed, always in order. But, now, he is the opposite. I would say predatory.
The way his lips press harshly against mine and his hands roam my body temporarily stun me. Taken by surprise, my fight response activates. I palm his chest and push hard but he pulls me harder against him.
I intend to get away from him, but he reels me closer and my lips start to move against his, wanting as much contact as he appears to need. My hands glide up to his neck and hold onto him.
They cling desperately to him like releasing him would cause an unmistakable tragedy.
Wrong. The tragedy would be to continue. Yet, his hands make their way up my hair and I get lost.
I held him afraid to do anything further that would condemn me but he had no problem. His hand trails to my neck and it starts to feel heavy on my skin. It's possessive. With that one movement, he demonstrates the power he has over me.
I do not fear it. I never have feared him. However, to my horror, it shows that Maddox Malfatto possessed more of my heart than I gave credit.
It is easier to dismiss Maddox when Zain is present. Well, my body dismisses him but deep inside there was an ember still kindled by him.
At his mercy, the ember accumulates until I can feel a full-on blaze consuming me from the inside out. Now, I am scared. Terrified of these feelings which were no longer supposed to be present.
I quickly grab his hand at my neck and squeeze it. He lingers on my lip for a few seconds longer then slowly retreats. Our breaths mingle as we try to catch air.
My eyes focus on his chest. It expands and deflates. My heart pounds in my ears. I avoid eye contact because I do not want to fold again.
His eyes, however, linger on my face. I can sense them. His voice, rough and low, brings shivers through my persona, "Helena, look at me."
I shake my head no, anxiously wanting to avoid any other connection with him.
His head makes contact with my forehead. I let out a deep breath, still holding onto the hand at my neck. His thumb starts to make slow circles around the side of it. It would have been soothing had his touch not left a lasting imprint.
My body is what feels hot. My heart fueling it. His cold hands bring relief sizzling some of the heat but at the same time causing more.
He kisses my forehead, "Look at me, amica mea."
His voice is demanding yet comforting. I slowly make my gaze up. I lose my breath as my eyes latch onto his like they've always have. Except, they are not golden lights rather tinted orbs of red.
They aren't completely tarnished. He is in control. I've noticed his eyes have become familiar with this hue.
"You are hungry," I question, knowing it's not the only reason for his state.
"For you... I cannot eat because I only want you on my lips," there is a question in his voice. He sounds pleading.
His fangs are treacherous. The things he can have me seeing and feeling are undeniably intoxicating.
I make an excuse because I do not want to tell him that I can't handle that proximity to him; I would want more.
"Marisa would not like that," I say lowly.
He smirks, "I'm not just talking about blood."
My cheeks heat and I slightly shift at the sensation building down below.
I mumble out, "She definitely would not like that."
My heart doubles. His lips lift at the corner and his gaze turns more deadly as if he locked in his target once more.
"And what would you like, my love," he releases my neck and I place my hand down. He starts fiddling with my hair as if what he said is normal between us.
Amica mea is my love in the ancient language. He has called me this forever but it was personal. When he would say it, it made me feel good. At the same time, it was meant to be confidential between the two since not many know it.
Saying my love out loud in the common language, where anyone can hear, declares he is no longer willing to keep things private between the two.
"I want you to stop calling me that," I respond.
"Nothing I haven't called you before."
"It's different."
He nods in agreement, moving his hands to my waist slightly shaking me, "The important part is that it's different for you too."
"I have a mate," I correct him, trying to negate that my feelings have altered.
"Yes but he is not your love," he shifts me closer, making me have to look up to him more.
Our bodies are nicely flat against each other.
"I don't think you know the definition of a mate," I raise an eyebrow.
He scoffs, "To them, a mate is a person they were destined to love. An individual made for them. For you, a mate will be your jailer. Your body is telling you to love someone you know nothing about. It causes reactions in you that make you believe you can only be happy with said individual. But look at you, my love. Look down."
My gaze shifted.
"Look how your body warms at my touch despite the coldness of my skin. The way your hands cling to me with need. The increased movement of your chest." His eyes narrow on my neck.
"The way your blood is rushing through your veins because your heart is overworking at our connection. I am not your mate. I don't need to be to make you feel anything for me. I am your love and you are mine, that was not predetermined. We've earned it, grown it, and now it's time to enjoy its reaping."
My hands grab his sides harder like they are aware I'm trying hard to leave his side.
"It's complicated. I do love Zain."
"I believe you think that but I don't think it to be true. The only way you love him is in his presence. Tell me that under my touch you still ache for him."
I bite my lip.
No.
I ache for Maddox, the child who protected another, the man who grew up with me and kept me at a distance because he didn't want to fool me. I have always noticed that my love for Zain falters when he isn't around. That's why I avoided being alone with Maddox.
Because it's not right. It's not supposed to be us. Maddox and I have never been end game. Everything is against us, yet I want him. I need him... I love him.
Or is this wrong? Is Maddox the mistaken one and we are the ones forcing each other to feel something that should not be there?
My mother's words come to mind, your home is with them. But her loyalty never changed. She was talking about our mates. She meant Zain and her pack.
Maddox does not move. He does not rush me for a response. He keeps his steady gaze on me. As I shift and fidget, his hands keep me stable but don't try to alter me. He is merely supporting me.
Then, his eyes transformed again, the red hue leaving. Gold shone around his irises. Eternal beacons.
Remember who truly lies in your heart. You decide.
Her words replay. But despite her original purpose, I figured out who that is.
My hands shakingly make their way up to his face. I caress his cheek and his eyes close in a sigh. When he reopens them, a complete change greets me. Nothing but red is visible, complete lust.
Yet, he gently grabs my hand and kisses it. Then halts. No movement.
For the first time, I realize his role. He is lost in want. Nonetheles guides me. His eyes might not show an once of gold, but it's as if they glow from the inside and show me another way out.
Decision made.
"No. I do not. I ache for you. I have lived for you and I think I'm going to die for you," I state but there is no sadness in my voice. It's a matter-of-fact tone because crossing this line might bring me death.
When you love someone as hard as I had believed to love Zain and as I think Zain loves me, then it's that very love that will fuel his hatred when he finds out about my betrayal. Zain might lose himself. He might even kill me. Conceivably, aim to kill Maddox but that would be the same.
Regardless, I am not afraid of the consequences. I'm afraid of not giving in. All these years have led to this moment with Maddox, to our long overdue confession. All I desire is to sate him, to feed his yearning, and create more for the two.
His eyes search mine in a panic until they stop with determination, "You will not die for me, or any other male. You get to live the life you want. If it's me you choose, then I will ensure it. Trust me. I will protect you."
"We will protect each other," I correct because there is no me without him.
As if reading my mind, he corrects, "We will do more than that."
He moves into action.