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“Okay, but what I really want to know is who’s the top?”
Creed places the brush back into the polish, screws the cap on and sits it down on the vanity. He leans into me, and as he does I move back until I’m firmly pressed against the mirror. His mouth gets super close to me, his lips feathering along mine.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” he murmurs, then pulls back. Every nerve-ending tingles with awareness. “Do you know what I like to do when I’m horny as fuck?”
“What?” I rasp.
“I like to cut open dead bodies, want to help?”
I almost ask if he just wants to fuck. We’re both grown adults, but something holds me back. I feel like now that I know who I am and that I was created for this, maybe I should sit down and lay it all on the table for them. We need to figure out how this is going to work, because I refuse to feel guilty for who I am or what I like. I know they’re all open to it; maybe not Brennan though, he still seems a little hung up on who I was in the past.
Creed checks to make sure my nails are dry, then wraps his large hands around my waist, and lifts me off of the vanity, placing my feet firmly on the floor.
“Yes, let’s go cut some human flesh.” I clap excitedly.
As we walk out of the ensuite, Creed asks me if the outfit that I’m wearing has any sentimental value. I’m not sure how a pair of old sweats and a baggy shirt could mean anything to anyone. I shake my head no. I know I look like a hot mess tonight, but I wasn’t expecting to go anywhere, anyways. I was also under the impression that no one was home.
I follow Creed through the house and down the steps to the morgue. I shiver when we enter; it’s a little chilly in here, but I suppose it needs to be when you’re working with dead bodies. He’s lucky though, because he wouldn’t notice since he doesn’t feel the cold and the other guy is dead.
The body is already laying on a tarp, on the table with a sheet pulled across it. Creed turns on the overhead light and manoeuvres it directly above the dead man. He pulls the sheet back, folding it down to the dead guy’s waist. If I didn’t already know he was dead, I would think the man just looks like he’s sleeping, well minus the bullet hole in his head.
“This guy just needs to be cremated, but I thought that you might want to practice on him.”
“Hell yes.” I squeal, making Creed laugh. He helps me get into an apron and gives me a pair of gloves. Once we’re ready, I step up to the dead body and Creed steps in behind me.
“I usually start with the skull, because there's nothing better than sawing a man's head open and removing their brain. But, since this is your first time, we'll start you off slow with the Y incision.”
He hands me a scalpel from the tray next to the metal table. His hand comes down on top of mine, guiding me where to go. He starts at the man's left shoulder and presses down a lot harder than I expected. I watch as the skin slices open easily, like a hot knife through butter. I gag at the sight, but he continues down to his sternum and lifts my hand. My mind drifts to the way he feels pressed against my skin and the sound of his voice as he explains what he's doing.
We repeat the first step on the other side and down to where the ends meet. He angles our hands slightly and slices right down the middle until he reaches the top of the pubic bone. Once the incision is done, he lets go of my hand and takes the scalpel, placing it back on the tray. I turn in his arms and forget about the dead body.
“Creed,” I pant breathily. “We need to go upstairs.”
Recognition hits, his pupils dilating until his beautiful forest green colour is nowhere to be found. He removes his gloves, tossing them over his shoulder, and I do the same. He presses in closer to me, his hands coming to my face and pulling me to his lips. Once his tongue enters my mouth, there’s a fevered rush to remove our clothes. My nipples harden in the cold air, and throb painfully wanting some attention. His lips leave mine with a groan as he steps back.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs, when I’m standing naked before him. I could say the same, Creed naked is a work of art.
His gaze darts around me, then he stalks over to the table, determination etched all over his face. In one swift movement, he tips the dead man to the floor and he splats down face first, the thud of the body landing echoes around the enclosed space. My mouth falls open and Creed just laughs. “He's lucky he even gets a cremation. The man was a traitor to the organisation.” I nod and watch as he stalks back over to me, then his hands come to my waist and he lifts me with ease. I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his torso as he walks us backwards, then plants my ass on the freezing cold table. My body trembles as his hand pushes against my breasts, forcing me to lay back. My back slightly arches to avoid the ice cold bench beneath me.
“I don’t know if I'll be able to have another body on this table again without picturing you laid before me.”
Creed moves around the table until he’s near my feet and wraps his hands around my ankles. He pulls my body down closer to him until my butt is hanging off the end and drops to his knees, tossing my legs over his shoulders. He doesn’t waste time with teasing and dives right in, wrapping his lips around my clit. I cry out when he slips a finger into my pussy and sucks hard on my throbbing bundle of nerves. The man is definitely skilled with his mouth, and before I know it, an orgasm crashes through me. He doesn’t let me come down from my high; he just keeps pushing me higher and higher till I scream out his name as I cum again.
“Creed,” I pant. “I need you inside of me, now.”
He drops my legs from his shoulders as he stands up, and wraps them around his waist, then leans over and crashes his lips to mine. I can taste myself on his lips, and frantically wrap my arms around his neck, refusing to allow him to pull away. I clutch to him tighter when he stands up and he grabs my ass with his hands as he walks across the room.
My back slams into the wall of the morgue as he kisses my jaw and down my neck to the sensitive area where it meets my shoulder. I whimper as he bites down hard, obviously wanting to mark his territory.
His hand disappears from my butt as he pulls back slightly, then wraps it around his dick and bumps my clit with his head. He guides himself as it slips through my wet folds, and nudges my entrance.
Not wanting to be apart for another minute, he thrusts his hard cock inside of me, all the way to the hilt. His Jacob's ladder rubs against my inner walls causing me to squirm. My legs tighten around his waist as I rock myself against him. He groans as he licks up the sweat beading on my neck, until his lips are against my ear. “The first time, I'll go easy on you, but once I've made you cum all over my cock, don’t think there will be any time to rest. I plan to take you up to my room and by the time the sun comes up, your body will be battered and bruised, and your knees will go weak everytime you see me.”
He punctuates his statement by pulling out and thrusting back deep inside of me. I cry out his name as my freshly painted nails dig into his shoulders, causing him to growl and thrust into me deeper, grinding his pelvis into my clit.
A loud bang startles me, making me jump, and causes Creed to still. “What was that?” I whisper, looking over his shoulder. It came from one of the smaller fridges on the opposite wall where they keep individual dead bodies.
Bang bang. It happens again. “Creed, do you have a live person in there?”
