Chapter 43
CHAPTER 43
CREED
I lean against the doorframe of her bedroom, watching her.
Black silk clings to every inch of her, molding to curves I’ve memorized, but never get tired of tracing with my hands. The slit in her dress runs high, teasing me with a glimpse of smooth, toned thighs every time she shifts her weight. The delicate lace mask covers just enough of her face to add to the mystery, but it’s those eyes—sharp, knowing—that have always undone me.
She adjusts one of the straps on her shoulder, the movement subtle, but it draws my attention to the bare skin she’s left exposed. Christ.
“You look beautiful,” I murmur, my voice lower than I intended.
Mackenzie’s lips tilt at the corner, but she doesn’t say anything right away. Instead, she takes her time dragging her gaze over me, starting at my polished shoes, moving up the dark tailored suit, past the crisp white shirt, until she finally meets my eyes. I see the flicker of heat there, but she won’t give me the satisfaction of saying it.
“You clean up well, Torres,” she finally says, her voice smooth, and sultry. But the way she steps closer, the way her fingers trail along the lapel of my jacket, tells me everything she won’t say.
I catch her wrist before she can pull away, bringing her hand to my lips. My mouth brushes over her skin, and I don’t miss the way her breath hitches.
“I’d say I did it for the Guild,” I murmur, eyes locked on hers, “but we both know that’s a lie.”
Her smirk falters for half a second—just enough for me to see that I still have the same effect on her that she has on me. And fuck if that doesn’t make me want to ruin this whole night just to get her alone.
She tilts her head, amusement flickering in her expression. “Are you planning on behaving tonight?”
I press a kiss to the inside of her wrist, then let her go. “No.”
Her laugh is soft, but she steps into me, her body aligning perfectly with mine. She’s testing me, pushing the tension between us tighter, knowing exactly what she’s doing.
“Shall we?” I offer my arm.
Mackenzie exhales, a slow, steadying breath before slipping her hand into the crook of my elbow. Her fingers graze my forearm, light but deliberate.
“Let’s see what fresh hell awaits,” she murmurs.
I smirk. That’s my girl.
* * *
The second the limo door shuts behind us, I know I’m fucked.
She’s too close, her perfume—dark, intoxicating—curling around me like a vice. The soft glow of the passing streetlights flickers over her skin, catching on the sharp edge of her jaw, the delicate column of her throat, the way the slit in her dress has fallen open just enough to show me more of that smooth, toned thigh.
Mackenzie shifts, crossing her legs, and the movement is slow—deliberate. She knows exactly what she’s doing.
“You’re staring,” she murmurs, amusement lacing her voice.
I lean back against the leather seat, letting my eyes drag over her with no attempt at subtlety. “Can you blame me?”
She hums, tilting her head slightly as she studies me, fingers tracing idle patterns over her thigh. I clench my jaw. That little touch, barely anything, but it makes my blood heat.
“How long until we get there?” she asks.
I check my watch. “Twenty minutes.”
Her lips curve, and fuck, that look—like she knows exactly how bad I want her, like she’s debating whether or not she’s going to let me have her—has me on the edge of losing every ounce of self-control I thought I had.
I don’t wait for her to decide.
In one smooth movement, I reach out and pull her onto my lap. A sharp gasp escapes her lips, but before she can protest, I crash my mouth against hers, swallowing whatever teasing remark she was about to make.
She melts into me for a second before she shifts, pressing her body flush against mine, fingers threading through my hair, tugging just hard enough to make me groan against her lips.
“You’re impatient,” she whispers, but her voice is breathless.
I smirk, dragging my hands up her bare thighs, pushing the fabric of her dress higher. “You’ve been driving me insane all night, baby.” My lips find the spot just below her ear, and she shivers as I nip at it. “You think I was gonna make it to the ball without touching you?”
She exhales sharply, her nails digging into my shoulders as I move lower, kissing the curve of her throat, the dip of her collarbone. Her body arches, pressing into mine like she needs this just as much as I do.
“Creed,” she murmurs, my name a sigh against my lips.
“Tell me you want me to stop,” I say, voice rough.
She pulls back just enough to meet my eyes, hers dark with something dangerous, something that has always pulled me under.
“I don’t.”
That’s all I need.
I kiss her again, deeper this time, letting her feel just how badly I need her. Her fingers work at the buttons of my shirt, her touch desperate, but the car slows, and we both freeze.
Mackenzie lets out a soft, frustrated laugh as she rests her forehead against mine. “Perfect timing.”
I exhale sharply, trying to regain some semblance of control. My hands are still on her thighs, her dress bunched up around her hips, and it takes everything in me not to finish what we started.
“Come on, baby,” I murmur, running my thumb over her bottom lip. “Let’s get through this night. Then, I’m taking you home and making up for the interruption.”
She smirks, sliding off my lap, adjusting her dress like she wasn’t just seconds away from coming undone beneath me.
“Looking forward to it, Torres.”
* * *
Chandeliers hang from vaulted ceilings, their golden light casting a soft glow over the sea of masked figures. The air is thick with deceit wrapped in silk and tuxedos, the scent of expensive champagne mingling with ambition.
Mackenzie tenses beside me, but it’s barely noticeable. Just the slightest stiffening of her shoulders before she straightens, slipping effortlessly into the role of untouchable queen. She was made for this—whether she likes it or not.
I lean down, my lips near her ear, close enough that she shivers when I speak. “Relax, baby. Let them see you, and let them fucking tremble.”
Her lips part, but she doesn’t look at me right away. Instead, she scans the room, taking in the people, the energy, the weight of the night. When she finally turns, she’s already wearing the mask I know so well—the one that keeps the world at a distance.
“Stay close,” she murmurs.
I smirk, my fingers brushing the small of her back as I lead her further inside. “Always.”
From the entrance, I can see them all—Flynn and Isabella, Larken and Roxanne, Jenson and Amara, Eros and his sister Hela—each of them dressed to the nines, their presence commanding, their eyes sharp. They’re the Kings and Queens of this world, and everyone here knows it. Their masks, a mixture of power and mystery, complement their personas perfectly. They stand with an air of confidence that only people who own the night can possess.
“You made it,” Flynn greets, his voice smooth, charismatic as ever. “Creed, good to see you. This is Kayley, my daughter.”
The girl doesn’t look older than eighteen and looks a lot like her mother, Isabella.
Flynn’s arm wraps around her waist, guiding her into the conversation, a protective gesture, like a father who’s seen it all and wants to make sure his daughter stays away from the dangers lurking in the shadows. I can finally see why Mackenzie made the choice she did for Gabriella, after almost losing them both I know I’d do anything to keep them safe.
“Aunt Mack,” Kayley says, stepping away from her father to hug Mackenzie. She offers me a shy smile. There’s curiosity there, but nothing overt. She’s trying to figure me out, just like everyone else did.
“Nice to meet you,” she says politely, her voice soft, a certain something that says she’s not just a na?ve girl walking into a room full of wolves.
“It’s nice to meet you, Kayley.” I say.
I turn my attention back to the rest of the group, my eyes meeting Flynn’s first. He’s got that glint in his eye. These men aren’t a hundred percent certain about me – that suits me just fine.
“Let’s have a drink,” Flynn suggests, raising his empty glass.
“Lead the way,” I reply, my hand still firm on Mackenzie’s back as we move toward the bar.
We chat for a while, the conversation flowing easily enough. But I can feel the undertones. The way Flynn looks at me, the way Larken watches me from the corner of his eye. They’re sizing me up, trying to figure out where I fit into the puzzle.
And then the music changes—soft and seductive, just enough to draw people in.
I hold out my hand to my lady, the offer clear. “Dance with me.”
She raises an eyebrow, but there’s a spark in her eyes, something dark and challenging. Without a word, she places her hand in mine, and we move to the dance floor.
We glide together, the rhythm of our bodies fitting perfectly, a dance we’ve done a thousand times even though this is our first.
I pull her closer, feeling the warmth of her body against mine. Her breath is soft against my ear as she leans in, her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck, the proximity making everything else fade away.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” I murmur, my lips brushing the curve of her neck.
Her eyes lock on mine, and there’s that challenge again, that defiance. “You didn’t think I’d be easy, did you?”
“No.” I smile, pressing her even closer. “But I like the game, baby.”
And she knows it. She knows exactly how much I crave this—her. The way her body fits against mine, the way she moves with a purpose, with a plan I can’t fully decipher.
The tension between us isn’t just tension—it’s a goddamn wildfire, crackling in the air like the static before a lightning strike.
Mackenzie’s lips part, her breath hot and uneven, her chest heaving like she just ran a marathon. She’s a fucking masterpiece, her curves calling to me like a siren song, her hips swaying with every step she takes.
Fuck, I need her. I need her now .
“You’re dangerous,” she says, those stormy eyes lock on mine. Her voice is a low purr, the kind that wraps around your dick and doesn’t let go. I grin, slow and predatory, because she isn’t wrong. I am dangerous, and I am about to show her exactly how fucking dangerous I can be.
“Come with me,” she whispers, her hand sliding into mine. Her skin is electric, sending jolts of desire up my arm straight to my throbbing cock. She leads me through the crowd, her ass bouncing with every step, the fabric of her dress clinging to her like it’s begging to be ripped off. My mouth waters just thinking about what’s underneath.
The piano lounge is dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of old wood and spilled whiskey. The piano sits in the corner, its polished surface gleaming under the flickering light. Mackenzie turns to me, her lips curling into a smirk that makes my cock twitch. “You ever fucked on a piano before?” she asks, her voice dripping with wicked promise.
Before I can answer, she’s on me, her lips crashing into mine in a kiss so fucking hot it could melt steel. Her tongue slides into my mouth, tangling with mine, and I groan against her, my hands gripping her ass like it’s the only thing keeping me upright.
I lift her dress, bunching it at the waist and tearing off her lacy thong in one swift motion, the sound of fabric ripping filling the room. She gasps, but it isn’t out of protest—it’s out of pure fucking lust. Her dress dips enough so her tits spill out, perfect and round, her nipples hard and begging for my mouth. I oblige, sucking one into my mouth while I pinch the other between my fingers. She arches into me, her nails digging into my back as she lets out a moan that goes straight to my cock.
“On the piano,” she pants, pulling away just long enough to climb onto the polished surface. The keys chime beneath her weight, a discordant melody that somehow fits the moment perfectly. She spreads her legs wide, showing me everything—her pussy glistening, her clit swollen and begging for attention. I drop to my knees in front of her and bury my face between her thighs.
“You’re a Queen, Mackenzie Yates.”
Her taste is fucking intoxicating, sweet and salty and her . I lap at her like a starving man, my tongue flicking over her clit until she’s shaking, her thighs clamping around my head as she comes with a scream that echoes through the room. But I am not done. Not even close.
I stand, unbuckling my belt and shoving my pants down just enough to free my cock. It’s rock-hard, veins pulsing as pre-cum leaked from the tip. Mackenzie reaches for it, her small hand wrapping around me and stroking in a way that makes me groan. But I don’t want her hand. I want her.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment all night,” I growl, lifting her legs over my shoulders and lining myself up with her dripping pussy. She’s so fucking tight, her walls clenching around me as I push in slowly, inch by glorious inch. Her head falls back against the piano, a cacophony of sound accompanying our moans as I bottom out inside her.
Then I start to move. My hips snap against hers with a rhythm that’s almost violent, the piano shakes beneath us with every thrust. Her tits bounce with the force of it, her pussy gripping me so tight I think I might explode right then and there. But I hold on, fucking her harder, deeper, until she’s screaming my name and clawing at the piano like she’s trying to hold on for dear life.
“Fuck me,” she moans, her nails digging into my arms as I pound into her. “Fuck me harder.”
I oblige, grabbing her hips and slamming into her with everything I have. The piano keys are pressed under her back, the dissonant notes mingling with the wet slap of skin on skin and the sound of her pussy taking every inch of me. She comes again, her walls clamping down on me like a vice, and I can’t hold back anymore. With a growl, I bury myself inside her and come so hard it feels like my soul leaves my fucking body.
Her legs tremble as I pull out, both of us gasping for air like we just ran a marathon.
“I fucking adore you, little demon.”
“I love you, Creed.”
I kiss her forehead, lifting her off the piano which is a mess—our sweat glistening on the polished surface—but neither of us gives a single fuck. We just made music of our own.