Page 38 of Creep (Vulture Hollow MC #2)

“You trust me too much. I snapped before. I could snap again.” But he’s melting me. I don’t even say it with conviction, because while I whacked my aunt’s head with a candelabra until it was mush, I would never hurt Angel. I know it to the marrow in my bones. I’d sooner slit my own throat.

He rubs his face against mine, my stubble pulling on his soft skin, nose slotting with mine as he exhales, rubbing my calf with his bare foot. His scent is addictive, fresh yet somehow otherworldly, as if I can smell stardust still lingering on him since his last dream.

“No, you won’t. You will be good. For me.”

“I will.” I nod absentmindedly, because there’s nothing I want more.

I had no idea how much I’ve craved his closeness, his undivided attention, his freely given touch.

I’ve been so elated to get to grope him in all the filthy ways I’ve craved that I didn’t even consider he might want to give back.

He’s made attempts to touch me, he’s held my hand, stroked my arms once I felt comfortable about it, but maybe I needed him to cut through my barriers with force.

He’s taking what I was unable to give of my own will, and I love every second of it.

He sees parts of me the sun has never reached before, and doesn’t let me hide away.

I was so afraid the light would scorch me that I didn’t realize it could feel so warm on my skin.

“You will,” Angel repeats, combing his fingers through my hair. “Because deep down you’re good. You’re beautiful. Worthy of care, and attention, and love.” His breathy voice hangs in the tiny space between our lips, tickling my skin like a warm, agile tongue.

I’m too shocked to remember the exact moment the proximity turns into a kiss, but it’s electric, terrifying, so warm, and so very sweet a sob is growing in me too. When he kisses me like this, I believe him. At least in this moment, I do feel beautiful. And good. And loved.

I lose myself in the kiss and explore his warm mouth with my tongue, like I’ve seen people do.

Not when he’s limp and unresponsive, but while I face him, run my fingers up his back and let him touch me in return.

His mouth is so eager to dance with mine, and when he presses against my thigh, his hard-on is obvious.

When the voice at the back of my head returns to tell me I’m bad, and dirty, and wrong in every way, that I don’t deserve to be here, or in his bed, I push it back. Because we’re not up there. Angel has descended into my shadows and joined me in the realm of nightmares.

He might not be familiar with the dangers looming in the dark, but I’ll protect him even with my tongue between his teeth.

I have no idea what I’m doing, but that doesn’t make the soft slide of wet flesh against mine any less exciting.

My cock is hard. My thoughts are racing.

Blood’s thumping in my skull as my body twitches in a sudden jolt of excitement, because his touch has the power to overwhelm me despite me being so much stronger than him.

Thinking takes the back seat, and I find myself rocking against him, frantic like an animal in its very first rut.

But he? He is perfect as he strokes my body, tongue coaxing mine into a slow, languid rhythm that somehow takes me to new highs, until my cock feels so damn needy I can barely restrain myself from jerking off.

“That’s right. You’re good, because you care for me. And because you fought for me,” Angel rasps as I move my mouth to his neck, licking off fresh perspiration. His earring tickles my skin, and I suck it in my mouth along with the earlobe while he goes on, “You’re my protector, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I whisper. It’s like he’s giving me a new purpose in life. He tastes so fucking good. Will I always have a sleeping fetish? Probably. But this feels good too, turns me on too. Anything he does turns me on. He could probably tell me to kneel and bark, and I would.

“I feel so safe with you.”

His words have such power in them. They trickle into my heart like warm honey, and I shudder, unable to stop myself from rocking my hips against him.

“You are. Point out a target, and he’s dead. Someone bothering you? Sic me on them. I don’t think you understand how I feel about you. I’d put you in my rib cage just to keep you safe.”

His next kiss is brief but so intense my brain keeps fizzing even when he tucks his face into my neck, licking my Adam’s apple as if it were covered with cream. “I missed you so much…”

It’s so confusing to be lavished with physical attention that my breath hitches. My heart is pounding, and my dick is begging for the tight heat of his flesh. He has the most perfect body, but wastes his time on giving me pleasure as if it’s not my job to make sure he’s satisfied.

“Today?” I rasp as my brain melts, because he slides his hand up the back of my T-shirt. Fuck. I’m probably sweaty from excitement, even though I did wash before coming here. I can only hope it doesn’t put him off, because the glide of his fingertips up my spine forces a moan from my lips.

“Yes. You’re my protector now. Why weren’t you here?

Why didn’t you reply to my message?” he asks impatiently and rubs his face against my chest, his smooth hands moving across my scarred back and touching all the ugly lines, as if they were something worth paying attention to.

The scar tissue is so sensitive it tickles in the best of ways.

As if he’s dipping his fingers somewhere… deeper.

"I… I thought you texted out of guilt or pity, so I… yeah.”

“Next time don’t ignore me, or I'll worry and look for you in the caves,” he says, blowing hot air over my chest as he kisses my torso through the T-shirt over and over, arms wrapped around my midsection, as if we weren’t already pressed tightly together in the gap under the bed.

“No! Don’t go into the caves on your own. Ever. It’s dangerous. I’ll answer. If I don’t, it will be only because I’m physically incapable.”

I stroke his soft hair, both angry that there’s fabric between us, and glad of it, because otherwise I might self-combust from overstimulation. At least that’s what I’m certain of until his fingers glide down my stomach, to settle against the hard tent at the front of my joggers.

My mind blacks out for a moment. He’s reaching for me out of his own free will, petting me, and oh, I definitely want to wag my tail as he lifts my T-shirt with his nose and licks my stomach.

Thoughts of whether I deserve that drift away behind the mountains of lust. My cock twitches, my balls tighten, and I don’t even know what I want.

I guess I want to come would be the singular clear thought.

Angel’s scent is somehow more intense here when we’re in the confined space.

I keep my hand on the back of his head to protect it in case he forgets where we are and tries to lift it.

“Do… Do you want to… sleep?” I ask, because that’s the only way I know how to do things. Fuck. Is that pathetic? I’m not sure if I want him to see me, but it’s so dark down here maybe it won’t be an issue?

He kisses my stomach, and the hand that was still learning the lines of my back slides from under my clothes to find my hand.

His touch is warm, slightly damp from my sweat, and the deep-seated need inside me is so confusing, because there’s just one way I learned to deal with it.

I’ve only barely scratched the surface of being with another person.

“I want to taste your cock,” he whispers in a tone that sets me on fire as if my skin was dry bark, and my hair—hay.

“You’re… sure?” Because I very much fucking want that.

I’m embarrassed when I remember sliding it into his mouth when he was ‘sleeping’, but it turns me on all the same.

Angel wanting it, not just accepting it.

I shouldn’t be surprised, but I still am.

I squeeze his fingers, so happy to have him.

He has no idea, because words can’t express my joy, love, and adoration.

A soft sigh, then his tongue paints a little heart on my stomach. “Yes… come in my mouth. I want to give you pleasure. You deserve it.”

My eyelids are heavy as if this is a dream. All I can do is nod when he pulls down my sweatpants to reveal my painfully hard cock. It’s a struggle to not shy away from his gaze, but if he says he wants this, then how can I deny him?

I shiver when he smells me, pushing his face against my dick and shifting my hips, until we’re both on our sides, in the safety of shadows.

His hand, the first ever hand other than mine to palm my shaft is unbearably hot, and with little jolts dancing all over my body, I can’t keep myself from twitching as he cups me with both hands, thumbs gliding up my cockhead until they’re on either side of the slit at the top, and pull its mouth apart.

Such a strange sensation, yet it has me gasping, rolling my hips, and pressing on his head without thought. He laughs, and it’s probably the sweetest sound I’ve heard to date.

“You smell good…”

He couldn’t have said anything sweeter to me. I’m always self-conscious about it because of my upbringing.

“I… might not last long,” I warn him. “Just the sight of your face close to my cock is getting me close.” My cheeks are flushed, and I’m so self-conscious of how I look, but the darkness eases my nerves and lets me focus on the way his tongue hovers over my cockhead.

I can just about see the way he peeks at me, mouth open.

“Oh no, I will get to drink your hot spunk even sooner? How terrible,” he jokes, then spits on one of his hands, and, damn, that alone might be perfect masturbation fodder, because he rubs the hot saliva into my shaft, giving me a slow, very deliberate pump that puts me on edge.