Chapter 47
Millie
It’s too hot. My skin’s clammy, a shudder shaking me from head to toe as my eyes flutter open.
For a moment, I don’t remember where I am, the dream still lingering, making it hard to focus on my surroundings.
I’m... wired, wet, so slick between my thighs it’s shameful. My panties are soaked, the orgasm I was about to have still prickling low in my abdomen.
Twisting into a ball and pulling my knees up to my chest, I shut my eyes, chasing the dream. I don’t want to wake up. It’s not over, but the sound of low voices has my eyes snapping open, another flush of heat licking up my spine.
I sit up, finding Creed shirtless on the far end of his couch, tattoos and muscles on display, hair tousled from my fingers earlier. He’s in gray sweatpants, alcohol-free beer in hand, eyes locking onto mine.
But his aren’t the only dark irises on me.
Noah’s here, occupying the other end of the couch, dressed in a black tee and black sweats. He looks... God, he looks just like he did in my dream.
Am I still dreaming?
I swear Creed wrapped himself around me as soon as he wiped a washcloth between my legs. He put the lights out and fell asleep before my head hit the pillow.
My skin goosebumps as I look between them, their attention laser-focused, but no words leave their mouths. Noah pulls from his bottle and Creed cocks an eyebrow.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, draping one arm over the back of the couch. “You’re flushed. Bad dream?”
I swallow hard, shaking my head softly, still not entirely sure if this is real. We were just here, and now we’re here again. All three of us.
A bit dazed, I scramble out of bed, my bare feet hitting the cool hardwood. I shudder. Every inch of my skin is on fire as I pad toward the couch, pinching my lips, eyes jumping between Creed and Noah.
The former grasps a fistful of the white tee I’m wearing—his tee—and pulls me onto his lap as soon as I’m within reach. The latter stares as he always does, face hewn in stone, unwavering control on display.
“Fuck, you’re burning up,” Creed rasps when I straddle him, His hand lands on my thigh and squeezes as he drags me closer. “What were you dreaming about, Millie?”
He sinks his fingers into my flesh, then drags them higher to palm my ass. I gasp softly, my cheeks burning hot, eyes darting toward Noah.
He’s still watching.
Creed yanks me further into him, my damp panties resting over his groin, his cock hardening beneath me. He moves his hand between us, stroking one finger over my clit, a low groan spilling out of his mouth.
“What are you—” I start, but he does it again and my hips buckle into him, a soft moan tearing from my lips.
“You better tell me you were dreaming about me, Millie Baby,” he grits out, stroking me slowly.
I tremble over him, lips parting, eyes swinging to Noah, my skin flushing hotter when I find his pupils blown wide, the soft fabric of his sweats tented.
“Don’t look at him,” Creed warns.
So he knows Noah’s here...
“What’s happening?” I whisper.
This can’t be real.
I’m dreaming for sure.
“You’re worked up,” he says, pushing my panties aside, two fingers swiping my pussy. “Fuck, that must’ve been one hell of a dream.”
He’s said that to me before. When I woke up in Noah’s bed and found him there. I close my eyes, breathing in deeply, and when I open them again, nothing’s changed.
They’re both still in the room.
As if his friend isn’t sitting right there, as if we’re alone, Creed pushes one finger inside me. My hips jerk, and I gasp, my forehead hitting his shoulder.
Reality blurs with the dream.
But this... this must be a dream.
How else do I explain Creed’s finger moving inside me while Noah watches? I turn to look at him, my eyes hooded, his too, and... he’s palming his cock through his sweats.
“Creed...?” I ask, unable to tear my gaze from his friend.
“Shh, I’m here. I’ve got you. I’ll make it better, baby. You were close, weren’t you?”
I nod and Creed adds another finger.
“Oh God,” I wail, arching back, my spine bowing away, hips jutting me further into his hand, chasing the pleasure that’s oh so close. He finger-fucks me slowly, his lips parted, dark eyes roving my face, down my chest, my nipples peaked beneath the tee, and my eyes go to Noah again.
“You’re being a bad fucking girl, baby,” Creed whispers, curling his fingers. “Making a mess all over my fingers while wondering what his would feel like.”
“I’m not—”
“Don’t lie to me,” he warns. “I know you. I’ve seen you look, that little curiosity painting your pretty face. You’re wondering, aren’t you? Tell me, baby... in that dream, was it just me?”
I pinch my lips, eyes falling shut, shame and arousal mixing inside my chest. It’s always Creed. And always Noah. They’re always touching me, kissing me, worshipping my body in tandem.
Creed pulls his fingers out and the loss has my eyes snapping open, meeting the dark abyss of his pupils.
“Answer the question.”
“Eli, please, I—”
“Answer the fucking question.” He teases my entrance, making my pussy spasm around his fingers.
Is this real? My eyes swing to Noah, lip between my teeth. He hasn’t said a word, but his face is set in want and a flash of my dream clouds my vision...
His mouth on my breasts, Creed behind me, touching, kissing, allowing. He catches my face, fingers digging into my cheeks until my lips pucker.
“I don’t share, baby. You’re mine but...” His fingers fuck me faster and just when I’m about to topple over the edge I’ve been staring at for what feels like hours, he pulls them out, denial in pure form. “He can watch while I ruin you. You want that?”
I whimper, the orgasm fading away.
“Words, Millie. Do you want Noah to watch?”
I look between them, hot, sticky, the overwhelming need to come driving me insane. “Please.”
“Good girl.” He maneuvers us until his back hits the armrest, both feet coming up onto the couch,
He drags me between his thighs and I’m flush against his chest. Peeling my panties off, he leaves them around my knees, clearly drenched, my pussy bare for Noah’s perusal.
I hide my face in Creed’s chest, eyes shut tight, legs shaking.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Creed says darkly, fingers splaying me open, brushing through the slickness. “Too much?”
I swallow hard, every fiber of my body incandescent.
Is it too much?
If I could be completely honest, I’d say it’s not enough.
“No,” I whisper, hands grasping his arms, nails digging into his tattoos. “Don’t stop, please, I need—”
“I know.” He pushes two fingers back inside me, his thumb brushing my clit. “Eyes on him while you come for me.”
Noah inhales a sharp breath, the first sound he’s made since this started. His gaze is locked between my legs and fuck... he looks absolutely feral. He palms his cock, squeezing the hard length through his sweats and takes a long swig of his beer.
Creed drags his mouth along my jaw, curling his fingers inside me, and I arch back, chasing his hand. I’m so close, so close I can taste it. My moans fill the room, interrupted only by Creed’s low grunts as he kisses the side of my face.
“Whose are you, baby?” he asks, nipping my earlobe, his hot breath skittering down my neck.
“Yours.” I tilt my head, so he’ll kiss my throat.
“That’s right, mine.”
He rolls my clit under his thumb in small circles, and that’s all it takes.
A few shallow thrusts of his fingers, a few well-timed brushes of my clit and my back bows, eyes closing, lips parting as the orgasm washes through me, so potent my toes curl and thighs cramp.
It feels like I’ve been edged for hours.
“There it is,” Creed rasps. “You’re drenched, Millie.”
He keeps rubbing those slow circles, prolonging the orgasm that breaks my vision out in white spots. It takes a long, silent moment before he grabs my jaw, tilts it his way, and closes my lips with his.
“Feeling better?” he asks, nose skimming along my cheek, up to my temple. “Or do you want to be a bad girl again and beg me to share you?”
I swallow hard, eyes cutting to Noah. He’s perfectly still, watching Creed like he can’t believe what he just heard.
“Fuck, Millie,” Creed snaps, his head falling to mine. “You’re really pushing it. I don’t fucking share. You’re mine.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Say it. Beg, baby.”
My heart jumps to my throat. I’m still not sure if this is real, but even if it’s only a dream, I want more.
“I’m yours, but... please... just once?”
Creed cups my pussy, breathing hard against the side of my face, every muscle taut. Shit, that was a bad idea. What the hell was I thinking? He’s the most possessive, territorial man I know; of course, he’d hate this idea.
“You’re shaking,” he says, draping his arm over my ribs as he pulls me closer. “Too late to take that back now. Fuck... you have no idea how much I love you.”
“I love you more.”
I feel him smile against my cheek, then he moves his head and I inch away until I see him look at Noah.
“She’s mine,” he says, his fingers roving my soaked pussy. “Don’t kiss her. And you better be careful because if I see her grimace, I’m removing your fucking spine.”
Noah frowns but it doesn’t detract from the desire written all over his face. His muscles flex when he brings the bottle to his lips, draining the contents, eyes on Creed.
“She’s yours,” he says. “But you’re not the only one who cares about her. I won’t hurt her.” He looks at me next. “Are you sure you want this, Millie?”
I glance at Creed. “Only if you’re still mine after.”
“I’ll always be yours, baby.”
“And me?” I press, my pulse flying so fast it whooshes in my ears. “Will I be yours?”
“Always.” He kisses my forehead. “If you want us both, I’ll allow it. But only once. Just to sate that little curiosity of yours. Never again, understood?”
I nod, looking back to Noah. “Please?”
He sets his beer aside and turns fully my way. “What’s your safe word, beautiful?”
“Raven.”
“Raven,” he repeats. “Good. Use it if you want me to stop. Don’t hesitate, Millie. If you’re overwhelmed or uncomfortable, use the safe word.”