Chapter 25 – Juliette #2
I slid my chair back and took our soup bowls to the sink and turned on the water, just to give me something to do.
This was probably the part where I should say something.
Communicate.
That’s what the books said. That’s what the movies showed me.
Be vulnerable.
Put yourself out there.
I would fucking dare anyone who grew up like I had to open their mouth in this very moment and say the thing they wanted.
I would dare anyone to admit…they wanted.
It was stupid, but I was crying. Not sobbing or anything, but I could feel the tears dripping down my cheeks, falling onto my collar bone.
Creed came up behind me and I remembered the first time he’d done this. The way you could feel his heat, his presence, before you felt him.
He wrapped his arms around me from behind, pinning my arms against my sides, he pulled me back against his body. I dropped my head back against his chest and closed my eyes. Maybe he could see the tears leaking out. Maybe he didn’t care.
It could have just been exhaustion. We’d been up since around midnight last night and it was getting on to dusk now.
There was more work to be done, so we would do it.
But the truth was, I didn’t know how any of this was going to end.
“It’s too much,” I moaned.
I stuffed my fist into my mouth and bit down on my thumb.
I had my legs over Creed’s shoulders, his mouth was buried between my legs.
I’d already come once, but the man was on a mission tonight.
He’d backed off to blow air on my clit, almost like he was trying to cool down a hot bite to eat.
Then he licked it, like he couldn’t wait, and I moaned again.
He plunged his tongue inside me, and I grabbed a handful of his hair, as if that would stop him.
Given that I wasn’t pulling him away, there was probably no chance of that.
I banged my heels on his back, like I might a horse I was trying to giddy-up.
“Creed, fuck me,” I demanded.
I didn’t know how long this was going to last. This sex stuff. I tried to imagine doing this with Kevin and the image was so repulsive to me I almost shuddered. Creed would be mad, I thought, even if he left me, that I might end up with Pimplefuckingface.
“Love eating your fucking pussy, baby,” he said, sitting up onto his knees between my thighs. He was impossibly hard, his cock jutting out. Mean and red, like it was angry it had been denied for so long.
Only that hadn’t been my fault.
I spread my legs wider, but he shook me off. Instead, he wrapped one of his heavy hands around my thigh and used it to flip me over onto my stomach. He pulled my hips up high and then slammed into me hard from behind.
I screamed and then immediately shoved my face into the pillow underneath me.
“Hurt you, baby?” His voice was rough. In a way that it got when he was really needy, almost out of his body with it.
I shook my head into the pillow and wiggled my hips against him to take him in even more deeply. Yes, it had hurt, but only in the best possible way. Where I was filled with him. Inside me, around me.
He leaned over my back, his mouth close to my ear.
Maybe he was about to tell me something. Maybe he was about to say that he wasn’t going to leave. That we could stay and stick this out together.
“I need to fuck, baby,” he said, instead. “You feel me?”
He didn’t mean in the literal sense. He meant was I hearing him. I nodded into the pillow again, my eyes closed.
We’d been fucking regularly for weeks before I realized how much of himself he’d been holding back. At first, he hadn’t wanted to hurt me. Then, he hadn’t wanted to overwhelm me. Later, he’d wanted to make sure I was with him every step of the way.
When Creed said he needed to fuck, that meant it was no longer about me. He’d gone from the point of trying to make me feel good or trying to make me come, to pure physical need.
I’d already orgasmed twice, so my head was in a proper state of ecstasy, and this part, when he took over and kind of used me…which was the best way I could describe it…was also delicious.
His hands covered mine, which I’d fisted into the pillow case. His hips snapped against my ass so that I heard the slap of our skin connecting. He grunted, he sweated, he moaned and cursed like I was his own source of agony.
He’d get so deep inside me, I’d swear our bodies had been fused together.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he barked, pounding inside me with a fury that I knew wasn’t directed at me. When he got like this, there was times I thought he might be trying to exorcise his own personal demons. But there were other times, I thought he’d just descended into his most basic primal self.
He squeezed my hands, buried his face in my neck, and fucked into me like…like..
“Don’t let me go!” I screamed into the pillow. Then one of his hands released my fist and he pulled on my hair, hard enough that my chin was pointed up.
“Say it again,” he growled. “Let me hear you, baby.”
“Don’t let me go!” I shouted, my body thrashing underneath his, like I might try to escape him. Like I might try and wiggle out from this claim on me.
He pushed his hips into me, flattening me out against the mattress. His thighs moved so they were on the outside of mine, and now when he pushed inside me, it felt so much fuller, so much deeper. I was fully pinned to the bed by the size of him, but that didn’t mean I was helpless.
I wiggled against the mattress, trying to give my clit the stimulation it needed. He helped by pushing down on me from above.
“Ahhh!” There it was again. That delicious pleasure. That bullet of sensation that was so bad and good all at the same time. It hit between my legs and spread out through my body. Fuck, coming felt so good.
He barked above my head. My name, I think. His whole body stiff on top of me as he filled me with his cum. Then he collapsed on top of me and I took what felt like every pound of him on my back.
Only it never was. It was like he always wanted to give me some of his weight, but never all of it. Never suffocating me with his size.
I was crying again. This time it wouldn’t be a big deal, because I did it a lot after sex.
The first few times I’d been really super embarrassed, but he said it was natural.
Just another way to communicate physical expression.
So we didn’t say anything. I just turned my head to the side and let the tears run over my nose to the other side of the pillow.
Eventually, Creed slid off me, and then a moment after that he was getting up to get the washcloth to clean me up. When he was done, he laid his hand against my lower back. His thumb rubbing circles, as I kept my face turned away from him so he wouldn’t see how many tears there were.
“You okay, baby?”
“Yunhuh,” I sniffed. Then rubbed my face into the pillow.
He dumped the wash cloth and opened the door for Patch to escape the bathroom. AP hopped up on the bed immediately and settled into a ball, basically on top of my head. I was okay with that. I liked the purring.
I felt Creed settle back onto his side of the bed.
“Jules,” he said quietly, after a while. I was almost asleep, had almost drifted off. Another minute, I might not have heard him. “I think I have a plan.”