Page 60 of Creeping Lily

LILY

T he mask is the first thing that undoes me.

He doesn’t take it off. Not fully. Just tips it up enough that I can see his mouth, the sharp cut of his jaw, the scars that live where the silicone ends.

It should feel like a wall between us, but it doesn’t—it feels like a dare.

Like he’s giving me just enough to tease me, and if I want more, I’ll have to earn it.

My pulse hammers as his mouth finds my throat. Heat pours through me, liquid fire where his lips drag over skin. I arch back, hands fisting in his shirt, dragging him closer because I can’t bear the space between us.

“Titan…” My voice cracks on his name.

He groans into my neck, low and feral, and then he’s everywhere at once—his weight pinning me to the mattress, his hands rough on my hips, thumbs digging in hard enough to bruise. Every movement screams possession. Like he’s stamping me into the earth with his body, branding me as his.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he rasps against my ear, but his hips grind down, betraying the lie .

“Yes,” I gasp, nails clawing at his shoulders through the fabric. “I do. I want all of it. All of you.”

His laugh is dark, dangerous, and it vibrates through my bones. “Careful what you beg for, little flower.”

Then he kisses me. Though it’s not really a kiss.

It’s a war. His mouth crashes onto mine, teeth clashing, tongues tangling, his breath hot and ragged as if he’s drowning and I’m the only air left in the world.

I open for him, let him take, let him ruin, because I’ve never wanted anything like this—like him.

The cool air licks over my skin, but then his hands are there, everywhere, mapping me with greedy strokes. His palms drag up my thighs, over my stomach, cupping my breasts with a hunger that makes me whimper into his mouth.

“Look at you,” he growls, pulling back just enough to watch my chest rise and fall. His masked face tilts, eyes blazing. “Spread out for me. Mine.”

The word detonates in me. I spread my legs wider, desperate, shameless, because he makes me that way.

He slides a hand down, fingers brushing where I ache most, and I cry out, hips jerking. He doesn’t rush. He circles slowly, deliberately, watching me unravel beneath him.

“Please,” I gasp, the word ripped out of me.

“Beg prettier.” His voice is a razor, slicing me open. “Tell me what you want.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, too raw, too undone. He grips my jaw, forcing my gaze to meet his through the slits of the mask. His stare pins me in place, molten and merciless.

“Tell me,” he orders.

My body trembles, heat flooding me. “I want you inside me. I want you to ruin me.”

A sound tears out of him—half growl, half groan—and then he’s pushing into me, hard, deep, filling me to breaking. The stretch is brutal, exquisite, every nerve sparking like I’ve been struck by lightning.

I scream his name.

He moves slow at first, grinding deep, making sure I feel every inch.

Then faster, harder, his rhythm punishing and perfect, his breath hot against my throat.

The bed rattles under us, the world narrowing to nothing but his body driving into mine, the slick heat, the way his hands cage my wrists above my head like I’m a prisoner he’s finally claimed.

“You’re mine,” he snarls, each thrust harder than the last. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” I sob, back arching, stars exploding behind my eyes. “God, I’m yours, Titan.”

His hand slides down, pressing against me where we’re joined, and I shatter. The orgasm rips through me like fire, tearing a scream from my throat as my body convulses around him.

He follows me over the edge with a guttural roar, slamming deep one last time, his body shaking, his hands gripping me like he’ll never let go.

For a moment, everything stops. Just the sound of our ragged breathing, the wild thunder of my heart, the weight of him heavy and perfect over me.

I touch his mask again, tracing the line where it meets his scarred skin. “I don’t care what you hide,” I whisper. “I want all of you. Even the shadows.”

His head bows, forehead pressing to mine, his voice low and broken. “Then the shadows are yours.”

And in that dark, trembling silence, I know he means it.

The room feels different .

The air is heavier, charged, like it’s still vibrating with everything we just did. My body is boneless against the mattress, skin slick with sweat, chest rising and falling too fast as if I’ve just outrun death itself. Maybe I have. Maybe being with Titan is its own kind of beautiful annihilation.

He’s still over me, braced on his arms, breath rough against my face. The mask shadows most of him, but I can see his mouth—bruised, wet from mine, shaped in a line so hard it could cut glass.

And that’s when it hits me.

We didn’t use anything.

The thought crashes into me, sharp and breath-stealing. For one brutal heartbeat, panic seizes my chest. What if… what if this changes everything? What if my body, traitorous and aching, carries a piece of him forward that neither of us asked for?

The fear is there, echoing in my ribs. But then—just as quickly—it flips.

Because the truth is… I don’t care.

If anyone, if anything is going to be left inside me, I want it to be him. Not as a claim, not as a consequence, but as a piece of this night—our night—that no one can ever take.

I exhale slowly, the panic sliding away as quickly as it came. My hand drifts up, skimming the curve of his shoulder, the heat of his skin. He looks down at me like he’s waiting for the fallout—for me to recoil, to push him away, to shatter the fragile thing we’ve built with regret.

Instead, I move closer.

I shift beneath him, wrapping myself into his chest, pressing my face into the line of his throat where his pulse hammers, steady and strong. The smell of him—smoke, leather, the faint metallic tang that never leaves—wraps around me, anchoring me deeper than I’ve ever been anchored before .

His arms come around me almost reluctantly at first, then tighter, like instinct takes over and he can’t not hold me. One hand slides up my spine, firm, grounding. The other cradles the back of my head, as if he’s shielding me from a world he knows better than I ever will.

And God, I’ve never felt safer.

I close my eyes. My lips brush the warm skin of his chest as I whisper to myself, let me have this. Let me have this moment, this breath, this cocoon of safety before the world claws it away.

Maybe tomorrow there will be consequences. Maybe tomorrow the panic will stick. But right now, wrapped in Titan’s arms, all I feel is peace.

Peace, in the arms of the most dangerous man I’ve ever known.

I snuggle deeper, my body melting into his, and he makes a sound—a low rumble that vibrates through me. Not words. Just presence. Just him.

And I realize then: whatever comes next, I’m already his.

Completely. Irrevocably.

And maybe, in some dangerous, reckless corner of my heart, I want every piece of him inside me—not just tonight, not just now. Forever.