Waking up with soft strokes of Creed’s tongue along my slit may have been a wishful, recurring dream. However, the tingle of pleasure, the cocoon of contentment around me, and Creed’s heady scent confirm this isn’t a dream.
It’s my reality and one I want for the rest of my life.
I mean, who wouldn’t want to wake up with the man you love, who is hot and sexy as sin with all that muscle and ink, burying his face between your thighs each morning? The only thing better would be for me to have woken him up, taking him deep into my mouth and throat, and hearing his groan and feeling him fist my hair and his hips thrust to get deeper.
Creed hums against my pussy, eliciting a moan from me. He drags the flat part of his tongue up my seam, then over my clit. He latches onto the nub and suckles gently. When I open my eyes, he’s looking at me, and my breath seizes my chest.
It isn’t that he’s so gorgeous, because he’s most definitely that, and it isn’t because his piercing icy-blue eyes are locked on mine and can see into my soul and who I truly am. Nor is it my inability to breathe due to an impending orgasm.
It’s because I love him so much that it scares me. I love him so much that I’m willing to choose him at the risk of losing my family.
My eyes well with tears. Creed stops immediately and moves up my body.
“Angel.” He looks pained and panicked when a soft sob catches in my throat. “You’re having second thoughts about us.”
“No.” I vehemently shake my head. He braces his weight on his elbows, staring intently at me as I see my future reflected in his eyes. “I choose you, Creed. I choose us.”
His panic eases, but the pain is still there. Pain because I’m in pain. Because we’re two halves of one whole.
“I need you,” I whisper. “Please, Creed.”
He interlinks our hands, his eyes not leaving mine, and slowly pushes into me. Both of our breaths stutter at that first pleasure-filled entry that happens every time—like he’s coming home, and I’m welcoming him home—like our souls are reinforcing the bonds around us.
“I love you.” I choke on the emotion overwhelming me.
“I know, angel. I can see it. I can feel it.” He kisses me softly. “You’re my world. My everything, Sophie.”
He moves in me, slowly and tenderly, making love to me rather than the wild sex we usually have. And as explosive, toe-curling, and scream-inducing as that sex always is, this is just as powerful.
With his eyes on mine the entire time, I’m his sole focus, which is as potent as it is powerful. When I come for him, it’s like I reveal a new version of myself. With all my layers and shields gone, I’m the truest version of myself. Creed has always seen me and helped me find out who I truly am, and he wants only to lift me so the world can see.
After my release, he thickens and starts to pulse into me, his eyes searing into my soul and my name on his lips. I whisper what I want, without any doubt that this is too soon or that I’m too young, “I want your baby in my belly, Creed.”
“Oh fuck, angel.” He jerks, and my confession seems to prolong him coming deep inside me. When he finishes, he kisses me deeply and starts to move again, rehardening almost instantly.
The next round isn’t exactly what you’d call lovemaking but more animalistic, raw, primal sex, complete with snarling—both him and me—nails raking over skin, teeth biting, hair pulling, and my screams echoing as I explode for him twice more, and he fills me to the brim with his cum.
When we collapse onto the bed, lying on our sides facing each other, we’re a sweaty, sticky mess.
He pushes my damp hair out of my face and cups my cheek. “Did you really mean what you said?”
“Yes.”
“Like in the future or…” His eyes search mine.
I lay my hand over his big, inked one, cupping my cheek. “As soon as possible.”
“Then we need to do two things. Get you off your birth control—”
“Done. I forgot it in my dorm when I ran.”
He grins and shifts closer. “Then the next thing, we need to get married.”
“That’s a bit old-fashioned. Come on, it’s not 1971.” I laugh.
His eyes darken. “We will be getting married.”
I shiver at his dominant tone. “Will you carry me, kicking and screaming, over your shoulder to the altar?”
He pinches my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Maybe I will.”
“Will you keep me captive, locked in your room, until you do?”
“Careful, angel. I might even keep you chained to the bed and use you as my personal fuck toy.”
The air rips out of my lungs, and my core seizes. “You’re… you’re not really making a strong argument for me to behave,” I force out breathlessly.
His eyes dilate, and his smile is dark. He pushes up, and I roll onto my back, staring at my dark god, who looms over his fallen angel. Visions of naughty, filthy things make me pant.
“Is your messy little pussy not satisfied yet?”
“Never. I’ll always want more of you.”
He lowers his head and bites my nipple, not hard but not softly either, and my back arches. “Does your needy little cunt want more of my cum?”
“Oh god,” I moan at his vulgar, dirty words.
“Tell me what you want,” he hisses against my nipple before he bites it harder.
I lace my fingers through his hair, holding him to me. “I want to taste us.”
He groans, and his hand dives between my thighs and scoops out our combined releases. He watches as I suck his fingers into my mouth, licking our cum from them. The noise he makes is pure animal.
“You’re going to be the death of me.” Then he attacks.
Andro dropped off a bag of clothes and toiletries that Creed had ordered, then Creed and I showered.
As we make our way through the enormous, beautiful mansion, its size and richness are overwhelming, yet I’m struck by the feeling of… comfort. This is a home, and it’s filled with love.
I can’t help but smile as we approach the dining room, and the noise gets louder. It’s like in the movie Christmas Vacation when Clark approaches, and the din rises to a loud chaotic noise. When Creed and I stand on the room’s threshold, I hide my surprised grin behind my hand.
Vito and Raf toss buns at each other while Gina clips Vito’s ear, making him yell, “Mamma, it’s Raf who’s instigating this!”
Massimo walks quietly behind Vito and swipes a full pancake, dripping with syrup, off his brother’s plate. He stuffs it into his mouth with a grin and dodges Vito’s knife aimed at his thigh.
Gabriele has just arrived and kisses Gina on each cheek, and she orders him to eat.
Andro tosses berries and howls when one lands in Tommaso’s coffee. Tommaso just shakes his head, lifting his mug to sip it.
“It’s a bit much, isn’t it?” Creed smiles down at me.
“It’s actually like a meal at home with my family; only our house is much smaller. And not with, you know…”
“Mobsters?” He raises a brow.
Tommaso saves me from answering by motioning to the seat beside him.
Creed takes my hand and leads me to his father while Vito, Raf, and Gabriele greet us, and Massimo smiles at me. Creed pulls out the chair and pushes it in when I sit.
“Minne.” Andro grins. “Looking well rested.”
My cheeks warm, and I hope no one could hear my screams last night or this morning.
“Morning, Mamma.” Creed kisses Gina’s cheek.
She squeezes my hand, her brown eyes glowing as she gazes down at me. “What can I get you to drink, mia dolce ragazza?”
I’m taken aback that the Don’s wife would ask me that. Glancing around the room, I don’t see any staff waiting to serve, like I expected in a wealthy household.
“Umm… Just a coffee with a splash of milk.”
“I can get it, Mamma,” Creed says.
“No, no, you sit, sweetheart.” Gina bustles to the sideboard and brings us our coffees, then leans down to give Tommaso a soft kiss on his cheek. “Need anything?”
“I’m fine, il mio sole.”
My heart clenches at Tommaso’s pet name for Gina—my sun—then fills with sadness as I remember Creed telling me his father’s condition won’t improve. As if Creed can read my thoughts, his hand finds mine under the table and interlinks our fingers.
“Mia dolce ragazza.” Tommaso’s voice sounds hoarse this morning. “I hope you slept well.”
I try not to blush. “Thank you, I did.”
“I worried your ordeal may have upset you.” He leans forward to rest his elbows on the table as he regards me.
“Because I’m not of this life?” I ask, and the room quiets.
Tommaso nods and leans back in his chair again. “Your father—”
“Papá,” Creed warns.
“It’s okay, Creed.” I glance at him. “I know what my father is, and that he doesn’t have my interests in mind.” I turn back to Tommaso and lift my chin as he continues to regard me.
He smiles. “You’re a gentle soul—that I can see with my old eyes, Sophie—but you’re no delicate flower, si?” He lifts his hand to Massimo for a platter of food that’s in front of him, and Massimo passes it to Gabriele to pass it along the line. “I would like to sit and talk with you more about your project idea. I think this project is filled with hope and will have a long-lasting meaningful impact.”
I’m still in disbelief that they are even considering this idea.
When the platter arrives at our end of the table, I’m surprised to see it is molletes—a Mexican open sandwich with refried beans, jalapenos, and melted cheese.
“I hope this is okay.” Gina looks nervous. “I asked Fransesco to make something that might be like something your abuela and abuelo would make you.”
Tears burn my eyes. “It’s wonderful. Thank you.”
Turning to Creed, I open my mouth to say that I need to contact my family today, but he shakes his head before I can say the words.
“I’m sorry, angel. You can’t call anyone right now.”
“What?”
“Not even Ollie.”
“But—”
“Their phones may be monitored,” Massimo explains and steeples his fingers under his chin. “If you call them, and Morales or your father are monitoring their lines, they could get a trace of where you are.”
My heart pounds, and my pulse roars. “Are my family… or friends…” I turn to Creed with wide eyes. “Are they in danger?”
“We don’t know Morales or your father’s intent or resources, so we can’t rule it out. However, we have people watching over your grandparents just in case.”
I appreciate that Creed isn’t hiding this from me, but I panic. He leans into me and rubs my shoulder. “Just breathe, angel.”
I shudder a deep breath.
“Triple S, we got you covered.” Vito pops a chunk of molletes into his mouth.
I worry my bottom lip. “People were around when I was running. They saw… Word could get back to Ollie, and she’s going to be freaking out. I have to get in contact with her. And my grandparents—”
“We can’t risk it, Soph,” Creed says softly. “Not until we know more.”
I want to argue, but these people helped and are letting me stay here. If my father or Morales can trace my call to Ollie or my grandparents, then I’d lead them right back here to them. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.
“Crispin and Daniele reported in this morning,” Massimo adds. “They hacked into the CCTVs in the area and the university’s security system to view the recordings from the time you ran, Sophie. There was no sign of Bane on any of the recordings.”
“You’re surprised?” Raf arches a dark brow.
“The Havoc Guardians have Digits,” Vito grunts, interlocking his finger behind his head. “Along with his hacking skills and the programs he plants in the systems to block and delete the MC council’s images, which the bastard still won’t share with us.”
I remember Army saying that about their images caught on the CCTV cameras.
“Yes, but what was also missing on the university’s footage was anything of what happened—Sophie running or the men chasing her.” Massimo grabs an apple from a bowl on the table and bites into it.
“So, Morales and Ortez, or someone working with them, have capabilities to hack into the university’s system and replace the feed,” Creed surmises. “Or placed it on a loop to prevent it from being recorded.”
“But there were eyewitnesses who saw me running,” I press. “Even if they didn’t know me, it would still be odd.”
“But you weren’t yelling or calling for help,” Creed reasons, pushing a tendril of hair behind my ear. “You might have just been a girl out running. The big bike roaring down the pathway would be something people noticed, but they might’ve assumed a dramatic pick-up was happening and may not even have noticed the other men behind you.”
“Okay, that makes sense, but Bane pulled a gun.”
Gabriele drums his fingers on the table. “Were there any people close to you when that happened, Sophie?”
I furrow my brow, trying to remember. “Not close, I don’t think. Just the two men.”
“It’s very possible no one saw that, then,” he reasons.
“What about the university’s security?” Tommaso asks.
“Gabe and I checked into that,” Andro says. “The only thing their security teams responded to was a frat house where some students were freaking out after snorting copious amounts of cocaine. No calls were made to the police, either.”
Vito stretches his arms and cracks his back. “If I got you some pictures, could you identify the men chasing you, Triple S?”
I swallow against the lump in my throat. “I really only got a good look at the one. I recognized him from when I met my father after my mom died.”
“You said you thought maybe Ortez had designs to offer you to one of Garcia’s lieutenants?”
My skin starts to crawl, and I swallow hard again. “Yes.”
Vito leans his elbows on the table and glances at Creed, who has pulled me tight into his side under his arm. “I’m sorry if I’m upsetting you, Triple S. That’s not my intent.” He continues when I nod, “I have a contact in the Garcia Cartel, and if we know who we’re dealing with, that might help us identify your father and Morales’s end goal.”
I look around the table again at this group of ‘made men,’ mobsters. They’re dangerous, I know that. And I don’t think they’ll give my father, Morales, or anyone else involved a stern talking to and tell them to leave me alone. No, that’s not how these men operate.
I glance at Gina, who looks worried but smiles reassuringly. Looking at Creed, his jaw is clenched; he hates that this part of his world is touching me.
But I’d be on my own without Creed or his family, their support and resources.
I can’t fool myself; Geraldo Ortez, my father, is coming for me, even if I don’t know the reason yet. Maybe it’s because of my connection to Creed, or maybe not. The whispered warnings in my head are telling me it isn’t because of Creed, or at least, not only because of him.
That doesn’t matter, though, not really. Because, regardless of the why or what the purpose is, the fact remains that I’m in danger. And if I’m in danger, those I care about could be used as pawns to get to me.
Creed is stiff with tension beside me, but he isn’t trying to convince me how to cooperate with this and their efforts. Working with his family will help protect me, but I’ll be accepting help from criminals and using their criminal resources and connections.
“Sophie.” Massimo pauses until I look at him. “I have a relationship with some federal authorities.” He smiles lightly at my shock. “I can notify them that we have firm intel that Geraldo Ortez is in the area. However, there are processes they have to go through before they can act, which means delays.”
Massimo would do that? Call in another favor for me and use another criminal bargaining chip to help me?
“We’re going to do everything and anything to protect you, angel,” Creed finally weighs in.
My eyes dart to his. Creed will step back onto this side of the line of the world he’s steered clear of for me.
Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply before slowly releasing it. Looking at Creed but speaking to the group, I say, “I’ll look at the pictures, Vito. And yes, Massimo, please also let your contacts know my father is in the States.”
Creed drags his thumb down my chin, promising me without words that he’ll keep me safe however he needs to.
Anxiety and dread birth in me. Creed has made a conscious decision not to play an active part in the criminal parts of his family’s world. And now, he’s willing to jump in with both feet to save me.
I know he is doing it because he loves me, and I love him all the more for it. I can only pray that it doesn’t destroy the foundation of our future.
Like many other times, he can read my mind and see into my soul. He cups my cheek and leans his forehead against mine. “Do you trust me, angel?”
Staring into his piercing blue eyes, I give the only answer I can, “Always.”
