Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Creed
Holy shit.
My pulse is a war drum in my chest, pounding so hard I can feel it in every inch of me.
Every nerve is alive, strung tight. I’m standing too close to a live wire and daring it to hit me.
Sloane’s close, too close, and everything between us feels charged, heavy with everything we’ve been holding back. My control, the one thing I’ve always trusted, starts to slip like sand through my fingers.
She looks up at me, her eyes piercing and searching, and I swear it’s the first time in my life I’ve felt seen, not as the drummer, not as the one who keeps the rhythm, but as the man beneath it all. It’s disarming as hell.
When she touches me, my breath stumbles. It’s not just the contact, it’s what it means. There’s trust there. There’s want. And there’s this unspoken understanding that we’ve both been circling something dangerous, something we can’t undo once we cross it.
“Sloane,” I manage, almost as a growl. “I need you.”
Her name leaves my mouth quickly. She hesitates for half a breath as she lowers her head, her lips parting.
The first touch of her mouth is like a jolt of electricity, and I can’t help the groan that escapes my lips. Her tongue flicks out, teasing the tip of my cock, and my hand tightens in her hair, guiding her gently.
She takes me deeper, her mouth warm and wet around me. I can barely keep my composure, the sensation overwhelming.
Sloane’s eyes, dark and intense, never leave mine as she takes me in even deeper. Her lips stretch around me, the warmth of her mouth sending charged jolts through my spine. I can’t help the groan that escapes my lips, guttural and raw.
Her hands are on my thighs, slipping my jeans and underwear further down. Her fingers dig into my flesh with just the right amount of pressure, grounding me in a moment that feels both surreal and hyperreal. The slight tightening of her throat around me pulls another moan from my chest.
I reach down, my hand finding its way to the back of her head, tangling in her hair.
The need to move, to guide her, is overwhelming, but I hold back, letting her set the pace.
She grazes her teeth lightly along the underside of my cock.
The sensation is almost too much to bear.
I groan, my hips jerking involuntarily at the sharp pleasure-pain.
“Fuck, Sloane,” I groan, strained with the intensity of my desire. “You’re so fucking good at this.”
She hums around me, the vibration adding another layer of sensation, leaving me teetering on the brink. My hand tightens in her hair, and I can’t resist any longer. I start to move, thrusting gently at first, but with growing urgency.
“Take it, baby,” I murmur. “Take all of me. You feel so good.”
Sloane doesn’t pull away.
Instead, she opens up, letting me push deeper into her throat.
“You love this, don’t you?” I growl, my control slipping. “You love the taste of me.”
Her moan around me is all the answer I need. The way she looks up at me, so full of desire and control, makes my pulse race even faster. There’s something almost hypnotic about the way her lips slide up and down, her tongue swirling, teasing, driving me to the brink.
“Fuck, Sloane,” I manage to gasp.
But it’s too much.
I can feel the coil of desire in my stomach growing tighter with each movement of her lips and tongue. Her eyes flick up to meet mine, the look in them both playful and utterly seductive.
But it’s too much, especially when I want all of her.
I pull her up suddenly, not wanting to finish this way. She lets out a surprised gasp, but the smirk on her face tells me she doesn’t mind.
“You’re driving me crazy, Sloane,” I murmur. “It’s too much.”
Her answering smile is wicked. “That’s the idea.”
I kiss her, taking my time, letting my hands linger on her curves as I slowly peel away the layers between us. She shivers under my touch, leaning into me, as she strips my top upwards, and I feel the heat radiating off her skin.
Without breaking the kiss, I guide her backward out of the kitchen, the dim glow from the fireplace pulling us toward the living room. The couch hits the back of my legs, and she pushes me down onto it.
“I need you, Creed,” she murmurs. “You have no idea.”
She straddles me, her fingers tracing the lines of my torso, and I can feel the heat of her body, the desire radiating from her.
She leans down, capturing my lips in a kiss that’s both tender and full of promise. Then, with a gentleness that contrasts sharply with the hunger in her eyes, she runs her fingers ever so lightly along my lips.
“Are you ready for me?” she murmurs, her breath hot against my ear.
“Always,” I reply, thick with longing.
She positions herself over me, the heat of her core pressing against my erection, then she lowers herself slowly, taking me inch by agonizing inch. The sensation is overwhelming, the tight heat of her surrounding me, pulling me deeper into her.
Sloane’s eyes burn with intensity as she begins to move, setting a slow, torturous rhythm that has me on the edge of losing control.
Her fingers dig into my shoulders, and her lips curve into a wicked smile. It’s funny how any communication we try to have with words always ends up as a disaster.
But physically we seem to fit together perfectly…
“You feel… unreal,” she breathes, the words trembling between us. “Like you’re everywhere at once.”
The sound of her saying it, of her giving in to that need, hits me square in the chest. I grip her tighter, my breath rough against her ear.
“Yeah?” I breathe. “That what you wanted, Sloane? To lose yourself in me?”
Her only answer is a quiet gasp that could be my name, a prayer, and a curse at the same time. The sound of it sends fire through my veins.
I press my forehead to hers, our breaths tangling, the air overpowered with heat and everything we can’t say.
“Then don’t hold back,” I whisper, rough with control I’m barely keeping. “I want to feel every damn bit of it.”
I grip her hips, guiding her, the heat between us growing wild and consuming. Every sound she makes pulls something feral out of me. Something I’ve tried too long to keep buried.
“Look at you,” I rasp, my breath catching. “You drive me insane.”
Her hands slide over my chest, her touch leaving fire in its wake. “Then stop holding back.”
That does it. My control snaps.
I flip her beneath me, catching the sharp gasp that escapes her lips. Our movements fall into rhythm. Rough, unrestrained, desperate. The air between us crackles, charged and alive.
“Sloane,” I breathe a low growl. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
Her nails dig into my shoulders, a soft cry breaking from her throat.
“Then show me,” she whispers back, and the world tilts, all sense blurring into heat and heartbeat and need. “Tell me how much you want me, Creed. Tell me what you want to do to me.”
“I want to make you scream my name,” I growl, thick with lust. “I want to fuck you so hard you can’t walk straight tomorrow.”
Sloane’s eyes darken with desire, her movements becoming even more frantic.
“Do it,” she pants. “Fuck me hard, Creed. Make me yours.”
I pull away, and she gasps, a soft, desperate sound that cuts straight through me.
“On your knees, Sloane,” I murmur, low, rough with restraint.
She obeys, tantalizingly slowly, her movements fluid, her breath uneven. The dim light paints her in gold and shadow, every line of her body a study in temptation. My pulse stumbles, my self-control hanging by a thread.
I move behind her, my hands finding her hips. The warmth of her skin seeps into me, a living fire beneath my palms. For a moment, neither of us moves. The air becomes harder to breathe, heavy with everything we’re holding back.
When I finally pull her close, she exhales a trembling breath that sends a shiver down my spine. She tilts her head back, whispering my name, and it breaks something open inside me. I press a kiss to the curve of her shoulder, tasting salt, skin, and the faintest hint of her sigh.
Then, without warning, I thrust back into her, burying myself to the hilt. She cries out, her body shuddering with pleasure.”
“Yes, Creed, just like that,” she moans. “Fuck me hard.”
I pound into her relentlessly, the sound of our bodies slapping together echoing in the room.
My hands move to her breasts, squeezing and teasing her nipples, adding to her pleasure.
“Come for me, Sloane,” I command again. “Now. I want to feel you around me.”
She lets out a long, keening cry, her body shuddering violently as her orgasm crashes over her.
Her walls clench around me, pulsing rhythmically, dragging me deeper into the vortex of her pleasure.
Her climax goes on forever, her body writhing and convulsing.
Her moans and cries fill the room, each one driving me closer to the edge.
“Fuck, Sloane,” I groan, my own control slipping, my own pleasure erupting. “You’re too much for me.”
The world goes quiet afterward.
Just the crackle of the dying fire, the slow sync of our breathing, and the echo of everything that just happened hanging thick in the air.
Sloane is still against me, her skin flushed, her breath uneven.
My hands are trembling, not from exhaustion, but from the pressure of it all. What we just did, what it means. I press my forehead to hers, eyes closed, trying to steady myself before the reality of it hits.
Because it will, it always does.
And who knows what that will look like?