Claiming The Rancher's Heir (Gold Valley Vineyards #2) - Maisey Yates Page 0,22

agony.

And she could see all that she was feeling mirrored in his face as he looked at her.

She hadn’t known. Hadn’t known that having him, this man—this man who didn’t even like her—look at her like she was... Like she was a wonder. Like she was perhaps the most beautiful thing he had ever seen...

Like she was seen.

Her.

Wren Maxfield.

This new version of herself that she was finding, inventing and creating as she went along...

He was captivated by her.

He wanted her.

It was a revelation.

Because she wasn’t insecure about her body, but she felt new and fragile in her skin. In all that she was, in all that she was going to be.

Didn’t even know what that might be in the end.

But when Creed looked at her, she thought she might be closer to finding it.

And it didn’t make sense, how it was somehow more affirming to have it be him who made her feel that way, but it was.

Maybe because her sister Emerson would be supportive of her no matter what. Her mother would say that she loved Wren regardless of what she did.

Creed wouldn’t. Creed found her intolerable.

He would never tell her anything just for the hell of it. He wouldn’t pretend that he wanted to touch her, kiss her, be inside her. He would only do what he wanted to do.

It was freeing.

And with all the freedom it gave her, she reached behind her back and undid her bra, throwing it to the ground, glorying in the look of absolute need on his face.

She wiggled out of her panties, leaving herself standing there in nothing but her high heels. And then, she leaned backward on the bed, arching her breasts upward, letting her thighs fall slightly apart. She knew she looked like a wanton. And she had never been one, not particularly.

But she wanted to be.

Here. Now. For him.

She wanted to take this thing between them and test it to the breaking point. Wanted to test herself to the breaking point.

And whatever dark emotion was rolling beneath the surface of his skin... She wanted to unleash it.

Because she wanted to go as far as she could. She wanted to take them both to the edge.

This felt safe, with him, because it wouldn’t be forever.

Because they didn’t have a relationship, and they wouldn’t. Because it was only this. Only her trying to figure out who she was, and only him trying to contend with whatever demons were clawing at him right now.

She could take it. For now.

And he could take her. Imperfect and new and unsteady.

They could both please themselves.

It was a miracle.

And she badly needed a miracle.

Creed didn’t disappoint.

Because then he dropped to his knees, a position of submission she had never expected from him. He was beautiful from this angle, too. The planes of muscle on his shoulders and chest intoxicating. His strength, bowed before her...

Oh, she shivered with it.

Of course, immediately following that submissive posture he revealed that it was not submissive at all. Because he grabbed hold of her ass and pulled her forward, burying his face between her legs and licking her until she screamed.

Until she couldn’t breathe.

He had all the control. There was no restraint. No quarter given.

He tortured her with pleasure, and if that wasn’t the most Creed Cooper thing on the planet, she didn’t know what was.

That he sank to his knees and yet managed to still have all the control.

And she didn’t want to fight it. Didn’t want to stop it. No. She surrendered to it. To just taking. Everything that he wanted to give. To the slow glide of his fingers inside her, and the wicked friction of his tongue against her. She surrendered to all of it. To the absolute glory of knowing this man needed to taste her.

Because that’s what this was.

He needed to taste her.

He had no control. His movements didn’t have finesse. It was a devouring. He had fallen upon her like a beast, like a man possessed.

Because of her.

Tension coiled inside her, and she just let go. When her orgasm broke over her like a wave, she cried out with her pleasure, completely unembarrassed by the sound that came from her body.

She felt remade, and she wanted him to feel the same. She scooted herself back farther on the bed, her thighs open even wider, an invitation.

“Take what you need,” she said.

A shudder wracked his big frame, and he undid his belt buckle, sliding it slowly through the loops and letting the belt fall to