Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
MACKENZIE
C reed lies between my legs, tracing his fingers down my sternum, his touch featherlight, like he’s memorizing every inch of me. His lips follow the path of his fingers, warm and soft against my skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.
“How are you so different from them—your parents, I mean?” he murmurs against my stomach, his breath sending a shiver down my spine.
I laugh, but it’s quiet, almost hollow. “Am I though?”
He lifts his head, meeting my gaze with that intense, unwavering stare of his. “Yes,” he says without hesitation. “They’re cold and calculated, and you’re just this breath of fresh air.”
I love how he sees me. It almost makes me believe I am all that. That I’m not a product of the people who raised me. That I don’t have their cruelty buried somewhere inside me, waiting to surface. He has no idea the dark, twisted secrets I have. He thinks I’m this perfect creature, but I am damaged in ways he will never believe.
His lips press to my thigh, slow, deliberate. “I could stay here all night,” he murmurs, his voice rough with need. “Just kissing every inch of you.”
A breathless moan escapes me as he trails his mouth upward, pressing open-mouthed kisses along my inner thighs. My skin is already tingling, my body arching toward him instinctively, needing more.
He hovers over me, kissing my lips, slow and deep, his tongue teasing mine before moving lower. His mouth trails along my jaw, down my neck, pausing to suck at the sensitive spot just below my ear. A needy sound escapes me, and he smirks against my skin.
His kisses continue lower, over my collarbone, between my breasts, his tongue flicking out to circle each nipple. He takes one into his mouth, sucking it in before releasing it with a sinful pop, his eyes locked onto mine as he does it again with the other. My fingers tangle in his hair, my hips lifting off the mattress, searching for friction, for anything.
But Creed takes his time.
He kisses his way down my stomach, his hands spreading my thighs wider as he settles between them. His breath is warm against my already sensitive skin, and when his tongue finally flicks against me, I gasp, my entire body tightening.
“I love kissing this part of you the most,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss right where I need him before licking a slow, teasing strip.
I whimper, my fingers gripping his hair as he works me open with his mouth, his tongue circling, teasing, worshipping. He groans against me, like he’s the one being pleasured.
He slides a finger inside me, slow and deliberate, curling it just right, and I cry out, my body trembling.
“Creed,” I gasp, barely able to form words as he adds another, stretching me, filling me.
“That’s it,” he breathes, his voice rough with hunger. “Let me hear you.”
And I do.
I shatter beneath him, waves of pleasure crashing over me as his name spills from my lips. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, drawing it out, making sure I feel every second of it.
Only when I’m completely undone does he rise, his mouth glistening, his eyes dark and hungry as he stares down at me.
“My turn,” I whisper, reaching for him.
But just as I do, a sound outside makes us both freeze.
Footsteps.
Heavy, deliberate, growing closer.
Creed’s head snaps up, his body going rigid against mine. I barely have time to react before he’s already moving, his finger against my lip. My pulse hammers against my ribs as we both listen, frozen, waiting.
The footsteps stop just outside the pool house door.
Shit.
Creed meets my gaze, his expression deadly serious. He’s already calculating his exit, his muscles coiled tight, ready to bolt. I force myself to swallow my panic and point toward the window behind me.
Without hesitation, he moves, sliding off me and grabbing his clothes in one swift motion. He doesn’t waste time dressing—just pulls on his pants and moves toward the window. I watch as he pushes it open, his movements soundless, practiced.
A knock echoes through the room. My father is already inside.
“Kenzie.”
My father’s voice is steel.
My heart lurches into my throat.
Creed doesn’t look back as he slips through the window, vanishing into the night just as the door handle turns.
I barely manage to yank a t-shirt over me before my father steps inside.
The air in the room feels thick, heavy with the scent of sex. I pray he doesn’t notice.
His sharp eyes scan the room, lingering for a second too long on the open window.
I keep my face neutral, forcing my breath to remain even. “What is it?” I ask, my voice steady.
His expression hardens. “Who was here?”
I blink. “What?”
His jaw clenches, and he steps closer, towering over me. “Don’t play games with me, Mackenzie. I heard something. Do you need a reminder of what happens when you disobey?”
A chill crawls down my spine.
I shake my head. “There was no one here.”
Silence stretches between us, thick with tension. His gaze flicks to the bed, then back to my face, searching for any sign of deception.
I don’t blink.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he exhales sharply.
“Don’t make me regret trusting you.” His voice is quiet, but the threat is there, coiled beneath every syllable.
He turns and walks out, leaving the door open behind him.
I don’t move until his footsteps disappear completely.
Only then do I let out a breath and glance toward the window, knowing Creed is safe – for now.
But he needs to know – the reason I am the way I am. If I’m going to have something remotely real with him. He has to know.