Brighter Than The Stars: Book One

Alternate 2.3

Madeline woke up to Elijah's hand trailing down her naked body, with his erection pressed firmly against her ass. If she hadn't been sore, and he hadn't been naked, Madeline would have assumed it'd all been a dream. It wasn't as if she hadn't had those dreams pretty much every time she'd fallen asleep next to him in the last week. 

But when he nibbled at her earlobe as his hand came up to cup her breast, it was all the confirmation she needed. Last night had most definitely not been a dream. "Good morning."

Madeline let out a soft groan, arching her body against his, and bringing her hand up to drag through his hair and pull him closer. "It is a good morning, isn't it?"

"It was," Elijah told her, taking her arm in his hand to inspect it. "You said I didn't hurt you."

Her wrist had visible bruises of finger marks from when he'd woken from his nightmare. It didn't hurt, but there was little point in telling him that. Not only would he not believe her, but it still wouldn't erase the fact that it'd happened. "Bruises fade, Elijah. I'm just sorry I couldn't keep the nightmares away this time."

"It's that house," Elijah admitted. "That's all it is, but when I see it, everything just comes rushing back. The beatings, the burns, the smell of booze on his breath, the sound of his fucking voice. I thought I could do it. I thought enough time had passed where I could face all this shit. That bastard is six feet in the ground, but he still has this control over me. I just wish you hadn't gotten stuck in the crossfire."

Madeline's heart ached for him. Here Elijah was, a grown ass adult who appeared so strong, both mentally and physically, yet still had the kindest heart. Yet there were moments where he became that frightened, angry boy she'd watched drive away in the early morning hours. 

She turned in his embrace to look him in his clouded over eyes. With one hand on his face, her fingers trailed from his cheek to his perfect lips. "You brought up being in therapy. I know you must have missed your last appointment, but I think this is something you should work on there before trying to work on here. This is a lot to take in, Elijah. You shouldn't have to do it alone, and I know there are things you don't want me to know about. You admitted as much in your letter."

Elijah turned onto his back, releasing himself from her embrace, and pressed his fist to his forehead. "I have a box in my apartment full of letters I never sent to you. Maybe someday I'll work up the courage to let you read them."

She remembered the closet she'd tried to look through, only to tell her it was full of old crap, then abruptly closed the door. Madeline guessed that's where the letters were. Still, despite them being written to her, she'd avoid the temptation until he allowed her to see them. 

"I wrote you, too," Madeline told him. "You're free to look at them whenever you want."

"You wrote me?" He asked, his voice higher than usual.

Madeline nodded, placing her head against his chest. "When I got your letter in the mail, I wrote you back that day. Do you know what I said?"

"What did you say, M&M?"

"I told you that I didn't need the perfect, tidied up version of you. I just needed you. It's as true now as it was then. You don't need to be strong around me, and you don't need to hide. You can show me every bit of that darkness, and I'll cherish it all, because it means you trust me."

"I trust you," he spoke from above her. "I trust you more than anyone in the world."

As Madeline's hand brushed against his lower stomach, she ran into something they needed to have a conversation about. "We had sex."

Elijah chuckled above her. "That we did."

"You asked if you could have me," Madeline pointed out, hating that she'd have to say the next words aloud, "but we really didn't talk about what that meant. I don't know if you're planning on keeping me, or if-"