She was just like fire she made him burn and since their kiss it had been worse
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Madelyn's eyes darkened when she kissed him; they were the eyes of predator with its teeth at the neck of its prey. He replays the details of that moment in his head over and over. Dissecting it, savouring it and torturing himself with it.
The way her lips tasted, how they twitched in a smirk as she crossed the room to sit down when the kiss was over.
She acted like nothing had happened and went straight to talking about work, while he stood there confused. His head swimming like he was intoxicated and in a way he was, he was drunk on her.
He still isn't sure why kissed him, a reward or punishment. A slow way to torture him, slowly drive him out of his mind.
The memory of the smell of her skin makes his body burn, even now as he lies in the dark he burns for her.
He recalls how the pricks in suits from 82 came to her office five minutes after their kiss and how she kept referring to him as "my" whether it was to remind the suits he wouldn't do what they wanted without her or to taunt him that she owned him body and soul he didn't know.
There was no denying that she did, how could he when if she were to call him now he'd be there in a heartbeat. He'd do whatever she asked. If she wanted someone dead, he'd kill. If she wanted someone alive, he'd save them. If she wanted Vought, he would do whatever it takes to get it for her.
