“Want my mouth in your cunt while you do that,” he growled.
“This would not be a hardship,” I muttered.
“Top or bottom?” he asked.
“Top,” I answered.
His hand slid down my back and lightly smacked my ass. “Bathroom. Want you clean when I eat you. Then come back, climb on and give me that pu**y.”
It was then I suspected my face got lazy.
Then I dropped my head and kissed his throat. Down, I kissed his chest.
Then I dashed to the bathroom, cleaned up, dashed back, climbed on, gave him my pu**y and took his cock.
Again, it was fabulous.
Chapter Fourteen
Finally
A warm summer day in Kentucky, seventeen years earlier, Creed is twenty-two, Sylvie is seventeen …
I was pacing the pier, my tanned, bare feet pounding against the wooden planks. I was dashing my fingers across my wet cheeks when I felt him and I whirled.
He was jogging through the grass wearing his usual old faded Levi’s and a tee. I could see his beat up pickup through the trees parked up on the lane.
I took off running down the pier, through the grass and I didn’t stop even as I felt his blue eyes move over me, his face harsh with worry. His arms started to swing wide and he stopped jogging just in time to brace when I hit him going full-tilt.
Those arms closed tight around me.
“Sylvie, baby, what the f**k?” he muttered in the top of my hair.
“Kah… Kah… Kah… Creed,” I blubbered, pressing deep into him, my arms also wrapped around him tight.
When I didn’t go on, he demanded, “Talk to me. I got your message. Got here as soon as I could. What happened?”
“Bah… Bah… Bootsie,” I wailed and my body shook with my sobs.
“Oh f**k,” he murmured.
“She dah… dah… died!” I bawled.
His arms got tighter and I felt his lips pressed into the top of my hair as he whispered, “Oh baby.”
I cried in his arms, mine holding as tight as his held me, my body shaking uncontrollably and I did this for a while.
Then I arched back, looked in the direction of his face and cried, “She’s the only one in that house I like! Now she’s gone and I’m all alone!” after which I collapsed against him and started bawling again.
He bent and picked me up. I circled his neck with my arms, shoved my face in his neck and kept right on crying. We both went down and he settled me in his lap, his back against a tree and he stroked mine as I pressed close and kept sobbing. I did this for a while and Creed let me, stroking my back, sometimes my hair, sometimes shifting my hair away from my face but not saying a word and holding me close the whole time.
My tears subsided to sniffles and whimpers but I didn’t raise my head when I said, “I loved her.”
“I know you did, Sylvie,” he whispered. “She was a great dog.”
“I have a whole year before I’m out of that house and I have to spend it all alone.”
“Hey,” he called gently and I sucked in a trembling breath.