AHS SMUT

Michael Langdon X Madison Montgomery; Filthy Secret

He comes to her at night, when the other witches are asleep.

She feels him before she sees him, a burning sensation under her skin that has nothing to do with telekinesis or precognition. In the dark, the corners of her mouth curl into a smirk. She knew it would come to this. Since the moment they walked side by side into the Hawthorne School, it was only a matter of time.

"Took you long enough." She whispers in a voice she hopes is seductive but she isn't sure and that throws her. She's never questioned herself before. She's Madison Montgomery, for fuck's sake.

There's just something about Michael that sets her teeth on edge.

She can't see his face yet, cloaked as he is in the darkness. But she knows it's him. From the crackling of electricity in the air to the way he holds himself, all taut with his hands clasped behind his back, how could it be anyone else? It's only been a few days but Madison feels a connection to this boy, so intimate with a death she's experienced twice.

"You've been expecting me." His voice, somehow coated with honey and thorns rings out, and it isn't a question.

With an easy flick of her wrist, she lights the candles around her. The flames roar into life, bathing her in a flattering light and she watches his eyebrow quirk at the manifestation of her powers.

"I believe I made you an offer in return for you saving me from Hell..." She starts, shifting in the bed so that she can throw the covers off. She lays back on her forearms and lets her legs, clad in a pair of tiny sleep shorts, fall open slightly. His expression is one of cool curiosity and his gaze subtly flickers the length of her body. "I've been waiting for you to collect."

His expression is disarmingly calm as he takes a step towards her, hands still clasped behind his back, until he's standing at the foot of her bed.

"You'll be leaving tomorrow." He says again in that not-a-question voice. He tips his head to the side slightly and if he cares about her impending departure, it doesn't show.

She captures her bottom lip between her teeth, stretching her left leg slightly. "So why don't we make tonight count?"

He says nothing, just quirks a brow again and stares her down with those cool blue eyes. She figures that's okay - she's used to taking control - and she's never been shy in the bedroom. Without breaking eye contact, she slowly lifts herself to her knees and crawls to the foot of the bed where he's standing. When she gets there, she makes a show of twirling her smooth legs, making them look as long as possible for someone who's 5'2, and sits on the edge. Her thighs cage him in and she glances up at him through thick eyelashes.

Her nails - freshly painted black that day - trail slowly up his thighs and she's pleasantly surprised to feel the muscles there. Under all that lean, he's stronger than he looks. He lets her touch him, his expression cool, and Madison would be lying if she said his aloofness wasn't a massive turn on. The boys in her past had always been so eager, breath hitching and pretty much ready to cum in their pants as soon as she touched them. Michael's the opposite; he stands still as a stone, hands still behind his back and head tipped to the side as he lets her touch him. Her fingertips even brush over his crotch but there's no bulge there yet; he's completely in control.

She's the one who has to calm down and she's slightly alarmed by the wetness gathering between her legs. He hasn't even touched her yet, not even close, yet here she is - the Madison Montgomery, Hollywood starlet and seducer extraordinaire, breath caught in her throat and thighs quivering. She forces herself to relax, knowing he'd probably be able to hear the butterfly stutter of her heartbeat.

Her hands finally reach his leather belt and she fingers the buckle, scorching eyes flickering up to capture his gaze as she prepares herself to pull it through the loops. He snaps into action then and his hands smoothly capture her wrists in a vice-like grip.