Kristen Ashley - Creed

“Right,” he muttered and I braced again when his eyes went back to intent. “That visit to Serena, baby, before we came home, she wants out. The girls want out, you should help them and so should Knight.”

“We do,” I told him and continued. “And I will. So will Knight. He’ll pay to make her physically healthy again, the girls will work with her to help her get over what happened or learn to live with it then he’ll work to pave her way in another life. She’ll be okay.”

His eyes got more intent and his arm tightened so I kept braced when he carried on.

“Just throwin’ this out there but, the new ones come in, you should counsel them to different ways of goin’ about life.”

“I thought you accepted I had reasons for making the decisions I make?” I asked.

“I do. I also told you, we had issues along the way, we discuss them. And a woman finds herself in the position to approach Knight in order to have protection so she can sell her body, Sylvie, he or you should do what you can to show her another way before you take her on. It’s the right thing to do.”

“Okay, I get you,” I told him. “And, you may not know this but he does that already. I cannot say that he expends a lot of effort and there is no doubt he could make more of one but he doesn’t just set them up. Sometimes they feel there are no other ways.”

He shook his head and his arm came up, fingers sifting in my hair so he could pull my head closer to his.

“I had all access, Sylvie, demand that shit when I take a client and Serena was hookin’ to pay for art school. Can you tell me there’s no other way?”

“She’s twenty-five, Creed. She can also make life choices.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Fuck.

“Okay,” I gave in. “That was whacked.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“All the girls don’t have reasons like that, Creed.”

“Maybe not but sometimes shit in life can make you blind to choices you don’t know that you have. You and Sebring really wanna look after those girls, you help them open their eyes before they sell their bodies. Talk to him about making more of an effort.”

“You know, you annoy me when you make sense,” I shared and his face lost its intensity when he grinned.

“Not much I can do about that, baby.” His fingers twisted gently in my hair. “You gonna talk to him?”

“Yeah,” I muttered.

“Be convincing,” he ordered.

I rolled my eyes.

He kept being bossy.

“Now kiss me.”

“No.”

His brows went up. “No?”

“I’m not in the mood to kiss.”

“What are you in the mood for?”

“I’m in the mood to suck you off.”

His face got lazy and I got even more in the mood to suck him off.

“Want my mouth in your cunt while you do that,” he growled.

“This would not be a hardship,” I muttered.

“Top or bottom?” he asked.

“Top,” I answered.

His hand slid down my back and lightly smacked my ass. “Bathroom. Want you clean when I eat you. Then come back, climb on and give me that pussy.”

It was then I suspected my face got lazy.

Then I dropped my head and kissed his throat. Down, I kissed his chest.

Then I dashed to the bathroom, cleaned up, dashed back, climbed on, gave him my pussy and took his cock.

Again, it was fabulous.

A warm summer day in Kentucky, seventeen years earlier, Creed is twenty-two, Sylvie is seventeen …

I was pacing the pier, my tanned, bare feet pounding against the wooden planks. I was dashing my fingers across my wet cheeks when I felt him and I whirled.

He was jogging through the grass wearing his usual old faded Levi’s and a tee. I could see his beat up pickup through the trees parked up on the lane.

I took off running down the pier, through the grass and I didn’t stop even as I felt his blue eyes move over me, his face harsh with worry. His arms started to swing wide and he stopped jogging just in time to brace when I hit him going full-tilt.

Those arms closed tight around me.

“Sylvie, baby, what the fuck?” he muttered in the top of my hair.

“Kah… Kah… Kah… Creed,” I blubbered, pressing deep into him, my arms also wrapped around him tight.

When I didn’t go on, he demanded, “Talk to me. I got your message. Got here as soon as I could. What happened?”

“Bah… Bah… Bootsie,” I wailed and my body shook with my sobs.

“Oh fuck,” he murmured.

“She dah… dah… died!” I bawled.

His arms got tighter and I felt his lips pressed into the top of my hair as he whispered, “Oh baby.”

I cried in his arms, mine holding as tight as his held me, my body shaking uncontrollably and I did this for a while.

Then I arched back, looked in the direction of his face and cried, “She’s the only one in that house I like! Now she’s gone and I’m all alone!” after which I collapsed against him and started bawling again.

He bent and picked me up. I circled his neck with my arms, shoved my face in his neck and kept right on crying. We both went down and he settled me in his lap, his back against a tree and he stroked mine as I pressed close and kept sobbing. I did this for a while and Creed let me, stroking my back, sometimes my hair, sometimes shifting my hair away from my face but not saying a word and holding me close the whole time.

My tears subsided to sniffles and whimpers but I didn’t raise my head when I said, “I loved her.”

“I know you did, Sylvie,” he whispered. “She was a great dog.”

“I have a whole year before I’m out of that house and I have to spend it all alone.”

“Hey,” he called gently and I sucked in a trembling breath.

Then I asked, “What?”

“Look at me.”

I straightened a bit in his lap and tilted my head back.

His hands came to either side of my face, fingers moving, shifting damp tendrils of hair away, wiping away wet, his eyes watching them move before he framed my face and looked deep in my eyes.

“When has my Sylvie ever been alone?” he asked softly.

I closed my eyes and my head dropped forward, my forehead hitting his chin.

He kissed me there then his lips moved against my skin, “You always got me.”

I nodded, my forehead moving against his chin. “Yeah,” I whispered.

“Where is she?” he asked.

I sucked in a shaky breath and pulled back an inch, tipping my head to catch his eyes.

“I wrapped her in a blanket. She’s at home.”

“Your Dad and the stepmonster?”

“He’s golfing then having dinner with his cronies. She’s shopping then drinks with her girls. He said he’d call the vet but they said they couldn’t come until tomorrow.”

He looked over my shoulder and muttered, “Priceless. Pure Bissenette, his daughter’s dog dies and he’s fuckin’ golfing.”

“Creed,” I called and he looked back at me.

“I’ll take you home. Get her. Take you both to my place. You say good-bye and I’ll take care of her.”

I stared at him.

God! He was so wonderful. Everything. Everything. He was everything to me.

“Thank you, Creed,” I whispered.

“Gotta take care of my girl’s Bootsie,” he whispered back.

I looked deep into his beautiful, beautiful blue eyes.

Then I whispered again, “Thank you,” leaned forward and touched my mouth to his.

On the way back, his hand suddenly slid up into my hair, moving fast, his fingers curved in and my head stopped its retreat.

His gaze bored into mine. Something about it was hot. So hot, I felt it burning me.

Mine bored back.

Then I moved forward and it was only a couple of inches but Creed met me halfway.

Then his mouth was on mine, mine was on his, his opened, mine followed suit and his tongue slid inside.

Oh my God.

Oh my God!

Creed was kissing me!

And he tasted as beautiful as he… just… was.

Suddenly, I was on my back in the grass, Creed’s torso pressing me there, his tongue demanding something I wasn’t sure how to give. I’d necked with guys but not like this. Not like Creed was kissing me but I just let him take what he wanted. As far as I was concerned, he could have anything from me. His big hands moved fast and warm at my sides, every inch of skin on my body started tingling and I pressed up automatically, seeking more, of what I didn’t know.

Just Creed.

I just wanted more of Creed.

He tore his mouth from mine abruptly on a harsh, clipped, “Fuck,” and my arms tightened quickly when it felt like he was going to pull away. His eyes locked on mine. “Let go, Sylvie.”

“Don’t,” I breathed.

“Sylvie, let go.”

“Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.”

One of his hands cupped the side of my face. “Baby, you gotta let go. This is not right.”

I lifted my head an inch from the turf and whispered fiercely, “This is the most right thing in the world.”

My words were true. I knew it. I knew it.

“You’re beautiful,” he told me. “You’re beautiful, Sylvie. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen but you’re too young, baby. This is not right. You gotta let go.”

“I’m never letting go.”

“You gotta let go.”

My arms tightened hard around his neck. “Creed, I’m never letting go.”

I watched him close his eyes tight, his head dropped, mine went back to the grass and he rested his forehead against mine.