Chapter 38
Creed
It’s almost midnight when I start to believe tonight’s not one of those nights Millie will slip into my room so I can kiss her until our lips are numb before I make her scream into the pillow.
I close my laptop, strip off my clothes, and crawl under the sheets, leaving the bedside night light on just in case.
Millie’s little routine feels like Russian roulette. She starves me for days, sometimes, driving me out of my fucking mind, probably on purpose.
It’s a miracle my best friend hasn’t caught us in the act yet, given his sister keeps ambushing me around campus, stealing breathless kisses, or falling apart on my fingers.
While I love every second, a part of me wonders when this will end.
Nothing lasts forever, and we’ve been pushing our luck more and more, going as far as me slotting my hand between Millie’s legs under the table at lunch just to see her cheeks pink up.
I know Hyde sees the way I watch her. He’s not an idiot, but he is somewhat convinced Noah’s the one she’s into. He’d put my fucking head through the closest wall if he knew what I’m doing with Millie whenever he looks the other way.
The first twenty-four hours after she comes beneath me, I’m on cloud nine, then as time passes and she doesn’t feed this craving inside me, my mood deteriorates until the only thing on my mind is another fix.
And it’s not even the mind-blowing sex...
It’s having her close I crave most.
If someone ever told me I’d be pining after kisses, I’d laugh all the way to fucking Sunday. I’ve never been into kissing, but I could kiss Millie for hours and never get bored.
Everything about her is fascinating. The sounds she makes, how her small fingers map every inch of my face, how she pulls me in, her button nose nuzzling my cheek while I devour her mouth, taking handfuls of the moment while it lasts.
Fuck. Instead of sleeping, my mind’s circling around her again. The fact I haven’t seen her at all today only adds a layer of desperation to my madness.
I’ll end up mad or dead because of this girl, I swear.
My eyes close, sleep creeping in, the constant mental arithmetic wearing me down, but my ears perk up when the door to my room glides open.
A rush of heat fills me up, relief rattling my ribcage. She closes the door quickly, her long blonde hair haloing her pretty face, those hazel-blues as distracting as always.
She doesn’t say a word and neither do I, our need for each other palpable. She turns the lock and rushes across the room in an oversized dusty pink sweater.
It’s a color I associate only with Millie now.
Her legs are bare save for knee-high socks. They’re plain white but fucking obscenely erotic and my cock juts beneath my boxers. Her knees dent the mattress and she’s on me, hot pussy settling directly over my waking cock.
“Need you,” she whispers, closing my lips with hers.
If only she knew how much I fucking need her back.
We’ve done this a few times now, so I know that when she comes to me like this, a little frantic, a little desperate, the day’s worn her down and she needs me to switch her head off.
It seems I’m good at that. I can center her without ever asking for directions because her body’s loud and I fucking listen.
I pull her in by the back of the neck, deepening the kiss, her hips rolling against me in response. She tastes like toothpaste, her own brand of sweetness underneath. That sweetness that ruins me every time.
She sucks my lip then bites the way I always do, and that’s my cue. I flip her onto her back, nestling between her thighs as her hands fly to my shoulders.
“You had a bad day, baby?” I ask against her mouth.
“Yes.”
I shift, grinding my cock into her. She’s soaked, the fabric covering her pussy making a mess of my boxers.
“You want me to fuck it out of you?”
“Yes, please,” she gasps, her fingers curling tighter around my shoulders, nails biting into the muscles.
“Such a good girl.”
The oversized pink sweater is bunched around her ribs, exposing more skin. She’s already flushed and trembling beneath me, ready for whatever I decide to give.
Reaching between us, I rip her panties off, the tearing lace leaving red marks over her hip.
“How bad was it?” I ask, dragging my mouth down her throat as I free my cock. “One orgasm bad or—”
“Three,” she cuts in, a hint of challenge in her tone like that hasn’t happened before.
Moving one hand to her throat, I control her breathing as I coat my aching, leaking crown in her arousal, teeth grazing her pulse point before I suck hard enough to leave marks.
She never complains about them, hiding every visible hickey under concealer. I both love and fucking hate that.
A part of me wants her to show them off, show every guy who salivates over her that she’s not available. A different part of me, the one that’s trying to earn her brother’s approval, doesn’t want the world to see.
“Eli...” she breathes, cheeks pink, lips parted to pull down air while my fingers squeeze a little harder.
I oblige, thrusting in and bottoming out. Her eyes roll back into her head and her body melts as if my cock is all she needs to forget whatever chaos brought her here.
“I’m here, baby. I’ll make it better.” I settle into a rhythm, every snap of my hips jutting her up the bed. “Eyes on me.”
She obeys and there’s something fucking sacred in that submissive side that’s just mine. She fights her trauma, her past, her own fucking head, but when she’s with me, she can... let go.
I pause inside her long enough to sit back and take her sweater off. She’s bare from her knees up, those knee-high socks adding ten points to how sexy she looks.
Every time she’s naked beneath me feels like that first time in the gym, and every time, I want to fix that moment. Take her slowly, kiss her sweetly, savor the moment, but Millie won’t take that. She wants to be wrecked...
So I wreck her.
I fall forward and cover her body with mine, my cock dragging over her G-spot in that demanding rhythm she expects. But the kiss I take from her lips mirrors the soft state of my mind.
“Oh God,” she moans, dragging her nail down my spine. “Please... harder.”
“Close already?” I slide my hand down to play with her clit. “We just started.”
“So close, so close.”
I angle my hips just right, dragging my cock through her faster while my fingers roll sensation over sensation across her clit until her back bows and the first orgasm strikes, so potent her legs shake around my waist.
“That’s...”
My girl, my girl, my good fucking girl.
“That’s a good girl.”
Mine. Always mine.
There’s nothing I want more than to say it aloud. Claim her with words the way I claim her with my body, but if I do, if I’ll allow myself to think this is it, that she’s mine, I’ll want to keep her forever and that’s not written in our stars.
“Look at me, Millie,” I demand, starved for the ecstasy twisting her features and glazing her hazel-blues every time she comes for me. “That’s it, stay with me.”
I fuck her through the orgasm, my tempo never faltering as she rides the wave, her pussy spasming around my cock for a good thirty seconds before she calms down.
“So good,” she whispers, throwing one arm over her eyes.
“You said three. Don’t tap out at one.”
I flip her over, cross her ankles, and straddle her thighs, slipping my cock back inside.
She comes like that within moments, her orgasm as potent as the first. It’s fucking hard holding back when she writhes beneath me, her skin flushed, misted with sweat, her pussy milking my cock, but I manage and flip her over again.
Her third orgasm is quieter, mouth open, no sound coming out at first, just pure sensation flooding her face before a broken gasp escapes. She tightens around me and I grip her hip hard, watching her aftershocks ripple as I chase my own release.
It hits me like a freight train seconds later and I drop my forehead to her shoulder while my balls pull taut. Pushing into her a few more times, I stop deep inside, catching my breath.
“A man of his word,” Millie whispers, toying with my hair. “Three as requested.”
I drop a kiss in the crook of her shoulder, then peck her lips and roll away, taking her with me. She nuzzles into my chest, my hand spread over her lower back.
“What makes a day three orgasms bad?”
She doesn’t answer right away, drawing something along my ribs with her finger. Words still don’t come to her easily, but I don’t mind the wait. In fact, I could wait until morning if that meant she’d stay right here.
“It wasn’t bad bad just... heavy,” she admits, pausing again. “I called my psychiatrist last week, and I’ve been following his advice, but it’s not easy. Today was particularly hard.”
A few questions beeline for answers. Why did she call him? What happened? Why didn’t she tell Hyde?
He would’ve told us. He’d think she was regressing. He’d worry. And when he worries, he drinks and vents.
Then again, since he told me about Millie and Noah kissing, he’s stopped talking to me about his sister. And he’s always watching me when she’s around. He fucking followed me the other day, like some kind of PI.
I veer my mind back on track before the bitterness spoils this moment. Millie’s still quiet in my arms, deciding how much she’s willing to share, and that’s okay. She can take hours for all I care.
She’s been opening up little by little, talking more, but I’m always alert, waiting for the shutdown. Having her here, close, nestled into me, her voice unguarded... none of it feels real.
None of it is what I deserve, but I’ll take what she gives as long as she gives it.
“He said that I’m in recovery,” she finally says, her warm breath kissing my skin. “That I’m healing and outgrowing my defenses. He kind of implied that I spent so long making myself small that I don’t know how to be the size I actually am.”
I cup her jaw, press my thumb under her chin, and tilt her face to mine. “You’re not trying to be small when you’re alone with me, are you?”
“I try not to but—”