So I was going to give it to him. All of it.
I took him, strained into his touch, arched into his strokes, gave him exactly what he wanted, taking everything he had to give in return.
He slid out, moved slightly away, rolled me to my back and then rolled over me. I spread my legs for him. He settled on me and glided right back in. My neck arched at the feel of having him back even though I only lost him for mere moments. I loved taking him inside, being connected, as close as we could get.
I felt his hands at my sides moving up and automatically lifted my arms. Creed liked to hold me down, he did it often and I had to say, I liked it too. It wasn’t the same as what I’d experienced before. He enjoyed lifting up, watching his c**k take me, our bodies moving together, joining. He liked taking control and allowing me to do nothing but accept all he gave.
To be honest, I wished we could do it with mirrors so I could see what he could see. So I could watch the strong, vital, massive power of his body moving over and thrusting into my petite one.
It was already hot. Watching him hold me down while he f**ked me, that would be smoking.
As expected, his c**k moved inside me as his hands trailed up my sides, over my pits, over my arms then his fingers curled around my wrists and he lifted up to gaze down at our linked bodies.
God, I loved it when he watched.
I bent my knees, feet in the bed, tipping up my h*ps and he slid in deeper.
Yeah, I loved that too.
His eyes came to my face as he transferred my wrists to one hand. Still holding me down, his other hand slid down my arm, over to my neck and down my chest, between my br**sts to my belly.
Nice. So f**king nice.
My breath escalated.
“Love you, baby,” I whispered.
I saw his eyes go soft, his strong and white teeth came out to bite his lower lip. I liked that look so much, I arched my back, pulled my knees back and pressed the insides of my thighs to his h*ps as he bent his head and took my mouth.
The second he did, he started powering in harder, deeper, faster.
Fantastic.
Beautiful.
Only Creed could give this to me.
Only Creed.
Creed stopped kissing me when our breathing grew heavy, we were panting, he was grunting and I was moaning. Our lips brushed, our breaths mingled, our h*ps collided and his lips slid down my cheek to my ear.
“I want you here. I want you in my home, my bed, my life,” he murmured, the smooth out of his voice, it was low and so rough with sex and emotion, it was abrasive, scoring through me.
“Baby –”
“I want your clothes in my closet. I wanna hear your voice in my house when you’re talkin’ on the phone. I want you sittin’ beside me when we’re watchin’ TV. I want shit you like in my fridge. I want your razors in my shower. I want my roof over your head. Your car in my garage. I want to give you what I should have been giving you for sixteen years. As good as you deserve. A showplace. A place where I can make you happy.”
God. He was killing me.
“Creed, let me –”
He didn’t let me finish. He pressed on, driving in, our bodies jolting with his thrusts, his voice harsh in my ear.
“Give me that, Sylvie. Give me that and, swear to God, I’ll give you everything.”
“I –”
His head came up, his c**k drove deep and stayed planted and his eyes burned into mine.