Wicked Love - Michelle Dare Page 0,86

the factor that will give you a new life. Spend time with Creed. Give him a chance.”

“And if I don’t love him even after that?”

Dad pushes up from where he’d been seated. He nears us, closing the distance, stopping just in front of me. His large hands engulf my face, my cheeks scorched by his warmth.

“I love you, Princess,” Dad tells me. And even though I don’t want to believe him, I do. Because as much of an asshole as my father is being right now, I know he does actually love me.

I can’t respond, though, not right this minute; if I do, I’ll only break my father’s heart because as much as I do love my dad, I hate him right now. So instead of answering, I nod.

He leaves. His footsteps echo in my ears before they dissipate into the night. The click of the kitchen door is the only evidence someone was here. Creed’s arms slowly release me, and I turn to regard him.

“I had to make it seem real.” His voice is low when he admits it. “I had to make sure Devon believed I was going to give you up.” Something flickers in Creed’s eyes, guilt perhaps, I’m not sure, but it’s gone the next second, and whatever it was, I know I’ll not see it again.

“I can’t love someone like you.”

“A monster? A killer?” The pain in his voice knocks the breath from my lungs. “That’s okay, little mouse,” Creed tells me. “I never expected love from anyone in my life. Not even the men I call brothers.”

“Why? Surely, they love you.”

“Love and loyalty are two very different things, Micaela,” he tells me, and I can’t argue the fact. The men who work for my father may not love him, but they are fiercely loyal.

“You want this?”

Dark eyes bore right to my soul. It’s as if Creed can see me, see inside me. All those secrets I’ve hidden for so long seem to be showing themselves to the man I’m supposed to marry. I don’t know how long I have before my father wants me to walk down the aisle, but forcing my heart to do one thing while my mind is fighting it, will be a challenge.

“Why wouldn’t I?” A smirk curls Creed’s lips. “You’re beautiful, you’re feisty, and you’re . . .” His eyes track my curves from my chest all the way down to my hips and then my legs. “Perfect.”

“Nobody is perfect,” I tell him. Honesty scraping my throat raw.

This time, he shrugs. “Perhaps.” Creed takes a step closer to me, his body looming over mine. “But when I see something I want, I take it.”

“I’m not yours.”

“Yet.”

We’re at an impasse. “I don’t date men who cheat on me.”

“I don’t cheat on anyone. If I’m with a woman, I bury my dick in her and only her.” His voice lowers to a husky growl. “And I’m sure I’m going to enjoy sinking my cock inside you.”

“Do you even have a filter?” I bite out, my cheeks heating in embarrassment, which doesn’t make sense; it’s not like I’m some frigid virgin. But there’s a filthiness about Creed that makes me feel like this is my first time. It’s ridiculous and stupid, but I can’t stop myself from burning up from his words.

“I don’t spread my legs for just anyone,” I tell him. “And even if I were to agree to this, there is no way we would ever be physical.”

“Are you sure about that?” He steps closer. “Because, I won the bet,” he tells me. “Which means you owe me a kiss.”

“You’ve got to be joking.”

“Oh, little mouse, I never joke when it comes to kissing, or sex, or anything physical I would like to do with you for that matter.” There’s a sinful grin on his face, which has heat coursing through me, right down to the spot between my thighs. Arrogance is his cologne, and he wears it like a fucking professional.

“I am not now nor will I ever kiss you.” My tone is biting. His hand trails over my bare arm, the skin dotting with goosebumps in the wake of his touch. Hot and cold, that’s what Creed is, and my hormones are working overtime the moment his fingers tangle in my hair.

“Did you not hear me earlier?” he asks. “I love to take.”

“Try it.” My challenge is clear. My hand traces a path down to his dick, and I grip him hard. My fingers digging into the rigid