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Creed’s fingers eventually moved to the side, and his other hand left my jaw and dropped to my other hip. He worked to get my panties off, sliding them to my knees and leaving them there as he got back to work. One hand rose to grip the back of my head, fingers weaving through my hair, and the other dropped between my thighs.
Now that no underwear sat between him and his destination, everything was amplified tenfold. The moment his fingers dipped low to my entrance, he must’ve felt my arousal, because he broke the kiss to say, “A real man makes sure his girl wants it just as badly as he does. He makes sure she feels better than she’s ever felt in her life.” As he said that, his dark gaze locked with mine, and I was unable to look away, even as his fingers returned to my clit, using my own wetness as a sort of lubrication.
Oh, God. That was all I could think, along with:holy shit. This feels so good.
He was a master of my body, my clit. He knew exactly how to touch me, how to stroke me, to get me to mewl for him, to get me to arch my back and wordlessly beg for more. I felt myself, with each passing second, inching closer and closer to a certain precipice I knew there was no going back from, but I couldn’t stop myself.
“A real man,” Creed spoke, his voice husky and ragged, “knows exactly how to make his girl come.” He twisted his hand somewhat, his palm putting pressure on my clit as a finger slipped inside of me.
I inhaled sharply, my dress suddenly feeling too stifling. My hips rocked with the rhythm set by his hand, grinding my clit against his hand as his finger began to pump in and out of me.
I must’ve been on the brink that whole time, because it didn’t take long for me to lose it. A pressure began to build in my lower half, and before I knew what was happening, pleasure exploded within me, a surge of carnal bliss I couldn’t fight. My muscles spasmed uncontrollably, a cry leaving my lips at the same time. The orgasm took hold of me, choked me, and took its time in leaving after it was done.
I didn’t think the wordfuckadequately described what I was thinking or how I felt in that moment. No word could.
Chapter Ten – Creed
This was bad. This was very, very, very bad, and yet I couldn’t stop myself. Something in me snapped when I came in and saw her on the couch, on top of some random boy.
A boy—because that’s what he was: nothing but a worthless boy who’d never give Taylor what she deserved. That girl deserved to be worshiped, to be treated like a goddess, which was precisely what she was.
I made my point. I was just going to kiss her, but then, after tasting her lips on mine, I knew I needed more. I couldn’t stop with a kiss. I needed to know what she sounded like when she unraveled for me.
And she was beautiful. The sounds she made were sexy as hell, and the way her hips rocked along with my hand made my cock twitch with a different kind of need. Oh, I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and bring her to my bedroom, shut the door and lock out the world while I got to know every inch of her body intimately.
She was mine. She didn’t know it yet, but she was mine. She had to be.
But… she shouldn’t be. Taylor shouldn’t belong to me; that much I knew. Not only were we stepsiblings, but I’d abandoned her ten years ago, left her with her abusive douchebag of a father; I didn’t deserve her. But that was something I could wrestle with on my own time. For now… I still had a captive audience.
I was slow to pull my finger out of her pussy, even slower to turn my head and glare at the boy on the couch. Just thinking of him being with Taylor, of his dick burying itself between her sweet thighs, made me unreasonably upset, to the point where I could hardly think straight. I supposed that was how we’d gotten into this position to begin with: Taylor straddling the armrest of the couch, her dressed bunched up to her waist, panties near her knees.
Every so often, while I was making my point, I’d tossed a glance to the boy. He’d watched. He’d been horrified, at first, thinking we were actually brother and sister, but eventually the horror he’d felt had been replaced by something else. Taylor had aroused him, made his cock hard, before I’d walked in.
Fuck. I didn’t know what the hell I would’ve done if I would’ve walked in and seen them fucking. The thought enraged me to no end. As much as I shouldn’t want to claim this girl, I did. I wanted to make her mine in every way possible. I think I’d known it from that first night she came back into my life.
I didn’t move away from Taylor. My hands curled around her hips, and I held onto her as I growled out, “Get the fuck out of here, boy.” Hatred swelled within me as I watched him get to his feet, his cock still hard. He wouldn’t be fucking Taylor tonight—or ever.
He was slow to move around the couch, never breaking eye contact with me. He did rub his chest where I’d punched him, as if it still hurt—which it probably did. I could throw a mean punch when I was pissed, and I was more pissed now than I’d ever been in my entire fucking life.
The boy picked up his pace once he was ten feet away on the other side of the couch, and he practically sprinted to the door to get out.
Once the door swung shut behind him and Taylor and I were alone, I moved my gaze back to her, finding those big, green eyes staring up at me. Her lips were swollen and redder than normal, parted as she panted.
“You…” Taylor was breathless, and the way she stared up at me told me exactly how much she’d enjoyed that, even if she wasn’t ready to admit it out loud. I… I didn’t think I was ready, either. She gathered her wits, set both hands on my chest, and pushed me back.
I let her do it, even if the last thing I wanted to do was let her go.
She got to her feet, pulling up her panties and fixing her dress, and the next time she looked at me, her expression had hardened into a glare. “What the hell is wrong with you? What—what’swrongwith you? I mean, what the hell?” She was having trouble speaking.
I cocked my head at her. “I could ask you the same thing, Taylor.”
She shook her head, her brown hair straightened. I had to admit, in that black dress, she looked downright gorgeous, sexier than she had any right to be. She said nothing to me, turning on her bare feet and hurrying down the hall, going to her room.
But we weren’t done with the conversation yet, so I followed her. She’d turned on the lights, and before she could shut her door and lock me out, I stopped it with a foot and an arm.
“No,” Taylor said, still trying to shut the door even though my body was in the way. She wasn’t strong enough to force me out; she knew that, and yet she still struggled in vain. “Get out of my room, Creed.”
“No,” I told her, responding to her still trying to shut the door by walking in. “Who the fuck was that guy? How do you know him?” Even now, even after making my point to them both, the mere thought of that boy touching her like that riled me up like nothing else ever had.
