Page 47 of Creep (Vulture Hollow MC #2)

Creed

When did this cabin become a safe space?

Angel has only been in Vulture Hollow two weeks, but as I watch him light scented candles arranged in every single room, it dawns on me that I don’t feel out of place anymore.

He wants me here, and as I follow him, contemplating each new flame while he whispers to them, I know we’re both equal parts of this ritual.

I can’t say I understand the intention behind it, because I don’t really believe in curses or charms, but where Angel goes—I will follow, and by the time the bathroom comes to life with the trembling glow of candlelight, I’m able to think clearly again.

I hate Domino with the strength of a thousand suns when I think my Angel was so frightened of the bastard he wouldn’t even tell me about him, but I see the merit of Angel’s request. Disappearing a prominent member of the Hell’s Butchers would be a difficult job to carry out without leaving a trace, even for me.

The other Butchers would be looking for a culprit.

If Angel thinks Domino will now back off, I have to trust his judgement.

I hope the patches on Angel’s back will deter him altogether.

My heart rattles every time I see them. I’ve never felt more accepted in my life.

Angel has plucked out all of my secrets, and they didn’t make him recoil.

He took my kinks on-board and found pleasure in them.

If I could bring him a star from the sky, I would.

I try to accept that he wants me, but I will forever strive to be worthy of him.

Angel inhales the herby aroma floating through the air and leans down to pull off both his socks. The rug under his feet is fresh, soft, and I can’t help but pause, watching my boy wiggle his toes against the threads. So fucking cute.

“Join me?” he asks and opens the button at the waistband of his jeans.

I nod, already pulling off my vest. “You know… I’ve had those issues with the shower for years, and you helped me get over them so quickly, because now when I think about being here, hearing the banging of water against tiles, and feeling the steam in the air, all I imagine is your naked body.

It’s where I first let you touch me, see me.

” Talking like this to someone, so openly and with no walls, is a revelation.

He smiles, and so does my heart.

Even now, I have doubts. Even now, I worry that maybe one day he’ll realize I’m a waste of his time, but when he places his hands on my chest, I want to give my soul into his care and believe each word from his mouth.

If he thinks I’m worthy, then it must be so.

“Does that mean you no longer worry about me dragging you under the water?” he quips, grinning at me as he takes off the vest, then hangs it on the towel rack. Because he’s thoughtful like that, aware it would hurt my feelings if he just threw it on the floor.

I take off my T-shirt even though I’m still self-conscious about the scars on my back. He’s seen them, touched them, and even kissed them a few times in the shower. “You can take me under and I’ll just ask how long to hold my breath for. If you say ‘forever’, so be it.”

He pauses, blue eyes wide, pink lips open as he reaches for me and gets to his toes so our mouths can meet.

He’s still wearing most of his clothes, so there’s way too much fabric separating our skin, but there’s something new about this kiss.

In the past, he gave me ones that were playful, innocent, or even lusty.

This one? It’s pure sweetness. Care and affection distilled into a syrup nothing could compare to.

We kiss until he’s breathless and hides his face in my chest, as if he finds the candlelight blinding.

“Will you wash my hair?” I ask even though it’s needy.

I love when he takes care of me like that.

I wrap my arms around him, even though we’re not in my safe space under the bed.

Maybe the demons in my head are being exorcized by those scented candles, because I can do this with him without feeling that it’s wrong, that I don’t deserve to be touched and should be punished for the attempt.

“Your hair, your face, and back, and chest,” Angel tells me and pulls his T-shirt off, revealing his lithe form. I love how smooth his skin is and lean in to kiss his shoulder, watching his jeans fall to the floor.

All of him being mine, accepting my property vest is a dream I never want to wake up from. I never thought such heaven was meant for me, but here I am, with my own personal angel.

“You look so beautiful in the candlelight.” I’m already unbuttoning my jeans too, eager to be naked with him, no shame between us.

Angel chuckles, kicking away his clothes, so he’s laid bare to me, his half-hard cock beckoning my gaze as he stretches against the wall.

He’s so different from me. So damn cute, eyes shining with an impish mischievousness I’ve never before seen in anyone. He is the one person who will never kick me away like an unwanted dog. He accepts me and finds me worthwhile.

“Since when are you a romantic?”

I have to scoot down to unfasten my boots, but I never take my eyes off him, which makes it take longer than I’d like. “I’m trying. You deserve to be adored. Even if half my mind is already busy fucking you.”

His breath catches, and I can see the rosy bloom on his face spreading down his neck, all the way to his chest. “Not mutually exclusive.”

As soon as my boots are off, the jeans and underwear follow, and I join him in the shower stall with my breath hitching from excitement.

Even though we’re just washing off the sweat and dirt of the day, the closeness, the nakedness, the tension between us makes my blood pump faster.

“You’re my dream come true,” I whisper and kiss him.

I even put my hand on his waist despite the worry that he might sense the tremble in my fingers.

He usually touches me here, and that’s just because he’s washing my hair or soaping up my body.

I’ve learned to relish every second, and maybe I want to give that to him too.

He gasps against my lips, body leaning into mine as I close the stall behind us. He fits so perfectly in my arms I don’t let go even when he reaches for soap and laughs, lathering it up behind my back. “When we’re together, usually I’m the one dreaming,” he chuckles.

I shiver. “I love that so much, when you’re so peaceful, your whole body available to me.”

But then he shrieks when I start the shower and some of the cool water reaches his back.

“I’m so sorry!” I say, tugging him into my arms and turning so the water hits me instead. The instinct to protect him is stronger than fear. I hold him close and smell his hair as the water warms up.

He strokes my back with soapy hands, which then move to my sides, spreading the slick lather to my armpits. It might be about cleanliness, but when his fingers swirl through my body hair and dip into flesh, heat blooms over my skin, as if I was about to take him.

“My body is always available," he tells me, fingers pulling on my nape until he can reach my temple with his lips.

I press my hard dick against him, unable to help myself. “You’ve got no idea what you’re doing to me, Angel.” I slide my hands to his ass and squeeze, already imagining my cock inside him, his tight body squeezing me until I come.

He hugs me. His knee trails up my leg, ever closer to my groin, until every inch feels like sweet torture. “No,” he admits, though we both know it’s a lie. He’s teasing me. Baiting me, playful and fearless, as if he wasn’t dealing with a monster. “Tell me.”

There’s a fire in his voice this time, a smoky note I’ve not yet heard from him, its sound so touchable I sense phantom fingers around my cock.

I run my fingertips up his spine, against the flow of warm water, while I let my other hand slide into the crack between his ass cheeks. I love how he shivers at my touch, rising to his toes and pushing his hips back ever so slightly.

“I turn into a greedy monster when I see you naked. You know the kind. The one that visits you at night and takes, takes, takes, then leaves you filthy and used.” I can only hope he doesn’t take offense at that.

I’m trying to express my arousal. But when his eyes darken to a grayish-blue, I know I’ve not misstepped.

Angel bites his lip and steps away from me, his hands rolling against flesh as if he were painting a ritual circle in soap.

His nipples are the most perfect shade of pink, but I’m soon distracted when he gives his cock a slow pump.

“Impossible. I’m always very clean,” he adds and reaches back, holding my gaze.

My skull feels like a hot oven when Angel’s eyes close, because I know he’s rubbing soap between his ass cheeks and wants me to see it.

I don’t know what to do. My lips tremble with every heavy exhale I make, and my skin is warmed by the water and steam.

I put my hands on the tiles to the sides of his head, caging him in and watching his every move.

I imagine myself to be an invisible monster, preying on the fact that he doesn’t know I’m here.

It’s ridiculous, because he looks down at my painfully hard dick as he touches himself.

But it still turns me on. I’m a pervert and he knows it.

He allows it, so is it even wrong at this point if we both enjoy it?

“Slide a finger in,” I whisper, so excited my cheeks burn and my cock twitches.

A soft whine leaves Angel’s lips, but he opens his eyes and stares straight at me, so beautiful. So vulnerable. So very innocent despite all the hurt in his past.

Even someone like me can’t take that away from him.

He sucks in his lower lip and rolls his head against the tiles while his cock bobs, abandoned in favor of Angel rubbing his chest.

“Being watched by you… it makes my whole body vibrate.”