Creed(108)

And he tasted as beautiful as he… just… was.

Suddenly, I was on my back in the grass, Creed’s torso pressing me there, his tongue demanding something I wasn’t sure how to give. I’d necked with guys but not like this. Not like Creed was kissing me but I just let him take what he wanted. As far as I was concerned, he could have anything from me. His big hands moved fast and warm at my sides, every inch of skin on my body started tingling and I pressed up automatically, seeking more, of what I didn’t know.

Just Creed.

I just wanted more of Creed.

He tore his mouth from mine abruptly on a harsh, clipped, “Fuck,” and my arms tightened quickly when it felt like he was going to pull away. His eyes locked on mine. “Let go, Sylvie.”

“Don’t,” I breathed.

“Sylvie, let go.”

“Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.”

One of his hands cupped the side of my face. “Baby, you gotta let go. This is not right.”

I lifted my head an inch from the turf and whispered fiercely, “This is the most right thing in the world.”

My words were true. I knew it. I knew it.

“You’re beautiful,” he told me. “You’re beautiful, Sylvie. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen but you’re too young, baby. This is not right. You gotta let go.”

“I’m never letting go.”

“You gotta let go.”

My arms tightened hard around his neck. “Creed, I’m never letting go.”

I watched him close his eyes tight, his head dropped, mine went back to the grass and he rested his forehead against mine.

Then he bit out, “Goddamn it,” and jerked up but not away from me. He pulled me up with him until he was sitting again, back against the tree, me in his lap and his arms, facing him.

His arms left me, his hands shoved my hair back away from my face and he held me there, one hand on each side.

“This was not supposed to happen now,” he told me.

“It happened,” I shot back.

“Fuck,” he hissed, banging his head back against the tree and looking skyward. “What the f**k do I do now?” he asked the branches of the tree.

I lifted a hand to his face and brushed away the thick hank of hair that fell over his eye and his head righted so he could look at me.

Then he said the five most precious words I ever heard in my whole life.

“I wanna make you mine.”

I closed my eyes as joy and relief swept through me.

Finally!

Then I opened them, looked at him and lifted my hand to touch the peridot resting at the base of my neck.

“Too late. I already am.”

His arms closed around me, one hand coming up to the back of my head again and shoving my face in his neck.

“Shit,” he muttered before he pulled me back and looked down at me. “You sure?”