Chapter 20
Collins
“I WASN’T GOING TO MAKE YOU BEG FOR ME, BUT…”
Icaved.
Folded like the letter I handed to Creed this morning.
We leave to go pick up Riley first thing tomorrow, but today I let Creed read Riley’s response to me,
knowing that he would want him to read it, too. I’d bolted out the door and closed myself in the silks room that Creed had built for me in his guest house.
Is it ridiculous? Yes.
But I couldn’t stop from blushing over Riley’s words.
How the hell am I supposed to handle Creed’s reaction when he realizes that Riley is all in. With both of us.
Luckily, I had a physical therapy appointment scheduled for today, too. So now I’m holed up with my PT while Creed reads and processes Riley’s words. There’s no denying that I’m curious as hell to see how he’ll react when I tell him that the doctor gave me the all-clear at my check up yesterday.
I don’t want to be handled with kid gloves, but I’m also not sure exactly what I am and am not ready for, yet.
I know he’ll move at my pace, considering he let me ride his lap in the hospital, but that moment wasn’t about pleasure and he understood that.
It was a moment allowing me to overpower him so that I could feel like I was back in control when I started to spiral.
What I do know is that I miss that connection with him. With Riley. I’d barely begun my chapter in life as his partner, and I’ll be damned if I let the motherfucker who took me get in the way of that.
Fuck him for thinking he could break me.
I shake my head free of all thought and focus on the end of my session, using the silks to stretch my tired limbs.
The therapist Creed found to work with me also happens to be an educated aerialist. Her name is Marie, and speaks with the cutest French accent.
Her dark eyes remind me so much of Riley’s, and it brings a sweet sense of comfort with every encouraging look she gives me.
She’s so full of life and positivity. She gives me hope that I’ll be able to perform again someday soon.
I’ve got the silks wrapped around my wrists, stretching my arms and shoulders upward and pull my legs up and into a modified split to help decompress my spine when, all of a sudden, the door to the studio bangs open so hard that it bounces off the doorstop, nearly slamming shut again in the face of a very excited Creed.
All that big baby did was pout all day because he felt so left out. Like Riley and I were in on something that he wasn’t a part of.
As cute as it was, and with me being me, I couldn’t stand the thought of him feeling as if our relationship was imbalanced in any way. It looks like he’s now in the loop as he looks at Marie and hikes his thumb over his shoulder.
“Out,” he commands, but it lacks any bite. His eyes never leave mine as he rambles out a run-on sentence. “You did a fantastic job with my girl, we both appreciate your hard work and dedication, but she’ll see you next week.”
“You’ll be okay? Any soreness?” She asks me, ignoring Creed’s antsy impatience as she reaches for her bag and hikes it up her shoulder.
I nod, “No more than the usual soreness that comes with performing. A little tightness, but we’ll get it stretched out.”
Creed snickers at the unintentional innuendo and I shoot him a glare over Marie’s shoulder. My therapist just glances at me, where I’m currently wrapped up and fights to hide her knowing smile as she gathers her things and quietly slips out the door.
Before I can lower my feet to the floor, Creed is gripping my thighs and shifting my body until I’m firmly wrapped around his hips.
“Is he saying what I think he’s saying?” he asks, his bright eyes wide and imploring as he fans the folded letter between us. My arms are still stretched above my head, but it doesn’t pull against my muscles as Creed supports my weight on his hips.
I cock a brow at him. “Is he saying anything you didn’t already know?”
He gives me this look as if to say you’re kidding, right? “So he’s all in?”
Creed is so fucking cute when he’s in need of reassurance.
I lift my chin, and he meets me halfway to press my lips against his. “Did kissing him on drop-off day not clue you in?”
“Well, yeah, kinda.” He looks so uncharacteristically sheepish as he shrugs and looks away, his cheeks flushing for the first time like…ever. “But he’s so used to my affections that it could’ve been perceived as a level up in our…bromance or something.”
I can’t help the quiet burst of laughter that bubbles up at his words. “Bromance?” I mock playfully. “Creed, that boy would not be kissing you on the lips if he wasn’t wholly committed to you, too.”
“I know, but these words,” he murmurs as he tucks the letter into the pocket of his joggers before adjusting his grip on me. “They mean something, Stardust. Something like—a promise of more.”
Creed keeps one hand firmly planted beneath me, holding me up by the back of my thighs while the other trails up my spine, then over my arms until his hand snakes around, and his tattooed fingers intertwine with mine above my head.
“You want more?” I ask, my voice nothing more than a whisper as I tilt my chin up, my nose brushing against his.
He lifts a brow in question, but his eyes flare as lust fills the icy blue of his gaze to the brim. “Yes.” He dips his head, his tongue trailing up the column of my neck and pauses at the shell of my ear. “I want everything, baby.”
“But right now,” he growls, nipping at my lips when his eyes meet mine again, “I need you.”
I look at him. Really look at the man who has had my heart longer than he could ever imagine. Creed has been the glue that kept me together every time I thought I would shatter.
“Then have me.” I bite my lower lip to stifle the moan building in my chest when he squeezes and rocks his hips up into me. Allowing me to feel just how badly he wants this. Wants me.
“Don’t say shit you’re not ready for, Stardust,” he nearly chokes the words out against the flesh of my neck, nipping the skin there just hard enough to make me gasp. “I’m barely hanging onto my sanity around you.”
I pull back and look up at him from beneath my lashes. “You don’t have to handle me as if I’m fragile, Creed. I’ll tell you my limits if we reach one.”
“And if you drift away and can’t speak, can’t tell me no?”
“Then, I know you’ll catch on and pull me back.” I kiss his chin, loving the faint stubble that’s grown there. “I won’t break. I’m not ready to run every base just yet, but what I do know is that I will combust if you don’t touch me right now, Creed.”
His lips descending upon mine is the answer to my plea.
Everything else fades away as I am wholly consumed by Creed.
He doesn’t live life in halves. I can feel it down in the marrow of my bones that he’s pouring all of himself into me.
Lust and love, longing and a want-all battle for dominance in his kiss.
My head spins, and I get lost in his touch, the way his lips caress, the way his tongue wars with mine, his teeth biting my lower lip.
He shifts, grabbing at the slack of fabric that surrounds us. “How are your arms?”
I give them a tug, not feeling as if they’re being pushed to their limits yet. “Good.”
He creates a loop, securing my wrists together above my head so that I can’t lower them even if I wanted to. Panic starts to clog my mind with being restrained, but Creed is right here in front of me, his beautiful eyes seeking mine.
“It’s just me, baby,” he murmurs, running his nails gently down my arms, the tender flesh of my scars, forcing a shiver to run down my spine and settle low in my core. “I will never hurt you. But if you feel like any of this is too much, say your nickname and this all stops.”
Licking my lips, I give him a nod and take a deep breath. This is a small step in reclaiming my body for my own. I want Creed more than I want my next breath, and I know that he’ll take care of me along the way, never letting me slip off the ledge I fear I’m too close to falling from sometimes.
I’m enraptured as I watch Creed slowly sink to his knees before me.
His hands leave goosebumps in their wake as the tips of his fingers trace down the map of my body.
This position really puts our height difference into perspective because his face is still level with my breasts—which is exactly where all of his attention is focused right now.
The playlist I had going during therapy is still playing quietly in the background as the song changes to Provider by Sleep Token.
I savor the feel of warm hands slipping beneath the elastic band of my sports bra as Creed’s eyes slide to mine, watching me closely as he cups each breast and kneads.
The scars from the tear around my nipple, where Guy had nearly ripped it off, have healed, but I hadn’t dared to touch them myself.
For the longest time, I had no feeling there; I’ve been scared that the nerve damage would be permanent.
His touch feels so fucking good that it sends a wave of relief washing over me.
I wiggle in Creed’s grip, needing him to touch me. Everywhere.
“You okay?” Creed asks, but the question is pure gravel. His eyes are dilated and he’s breathing like he’s just run a marathon.
“Yes,” I squeak out, wiggling again, “m-more, please.”
Thank the powers that be that Creed is a giver because he doesn’t make me wait. Pushing my bra up to expose my breasts, he leans in closely. I feel the warm caress of his breaths before I feel the velvet drag of his tongue connecting with my skin.
I watch Creed, enraptured by the way his tongue flicks out, lapping at the tightened bud of my nipple, before he closes his mouth around it and sucks. A gasp bursts from my lips at the same time my head drops back on a rough moan because holy hell does he feel so good.
Creed’s touch feels like a balm to a burn, as much as it feels like the sweetest sin.
He takes his time, switching from one nipple to the other, driving me to the point of insanity with the meticulous attention that he’s giving each breast. I’m writhing and wriggling, silently begging him for more.
I could easily get myself out of this slip knot around my wrists, but I trust Creed wholly.
A growl rips through his chest when he sinks lower, placing various wet kisses and nips along my skin as he goes.
His palms brush my inner thighs, and the touch against my scars throws me right back into that room, the day Guy had gripped the fresh wounds in an attempt to make me scream for him. The day he held a gun to Riley—
A sharp sting against my inner thigh jerks me back into the present.
My head snaps down to find Creed licking over the bite mark he just created.
The indentations from his teeth begin to smart, but what has my heart stumbling is how he was careful to avoid my larger scars.
The stitches had dissolved some time ago, but the flesh is still tender.
“Stay with me, baby,” he murmurs against my skin, gripping my hips and fingers hooked into the waistband of my shorts.
“I-I’m with you, Creed.” I nod vehemently, desperate for him to keep going. “I need you, please.”
“Oh, fuck,” he groans, “I wasn’t going to make you beg for me, but goddamn does it sound good coming from your pretty lips.” He pulls the shorts down just enough to place a hot kiss against my mound. “I’ve been dying to taste you again, Stardust.”
“Please,” is all I can get out again before my shorts are gone and my legs are being hoisted over Creed’s shoulders.