Page 43 of Fatal Vengeance

Creed locks one arm around me, keeping me close. Looking right into my eyes and holding me hostage with his gaze, he lifts the knife in his other hand, grazing the point of the blade down my cheek. “You promised to give me scars, baby. I’m cashing in on that tonight. I want to be surrounded by red; your vibrant hair and the deep crimson of blood. I want your mark on me for eternity, so even at my lowest, I’ll know where I belong.”

Be still my heart.

Despite the tendril of fear that lick down my spine at the thought of hurting this beautiful man, I find myself nodding easily. How could I not? If Creed needs me to write my love into his skin as an anchor for him, then who am I to turn him down?

“Okay,” I breathe softly, reaching for the hilt of the knife. A nervous little smile curls up my lips, which Creed swiftly smothers with a sweet, passionate kiss that sets a forest fire ablaze in my stomach. With his lips and tongue devouring mine, Creed releases the knife into my hand and then grips my hips with a fierceness that makes me think he’s struggling not to toss me over his shoulder and take me to bed.

There goes my stomach, swooping low with liquid heat. I'm just an inferno for this man, and I’m in danger of burning up.

“Where do you want it?” I breathe against his lips between savage kisses.

Creed chuckles, this dark and deeply depraved sound that does ungodly things to me, and then he pulls back and puts a few inches of space between us. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip like he’s savoring the last of my taste, his molten gaze locked on me and somehow making this moment feel equally intimate and vulnerable all at once. Creed pushes the hem of his boxers and black sweatpants down, stopping just before his dick can spring free, even though I can tell it wants to. Even in the middle of the night, I can see the bulge behind his pants, and I’m glad I’m not the only one affected by this tension bouncing between us.

“How about right here?” he rasps, skimming his finger along his hip, just a few inches to the right from his delicious—

Okay, Prudence, you damn perv. That’s quite enough.

“Here?” I confirm, gliding the tip of the blade over the smooth patch of skin he pointed out. Creed sucks in a ragged breath as the cool sting of metal dances over his skin, and the wicked smile he gives me a second later is almost enough to send me running into the woods from the big bad wolf before me.

Of course, then he’d take chase and we’d end up naked and dirty within seconds... Honestly, that’s not a half-bad idea.

“Mm-hmm,” he hums, leaning into the knife just enough to draw a single bead of crimson blood to the surface.

I watch, mesmerized, as it rolls down his pale skin and soaks into the hem of his boxers. What a waste. Licking my lips, I slowly sink to my knees at Creed’s feet, grinning to myself when he releases a breathy groan.

“Ember, baby.”

I peer up at him while brushing the pad of my thumb over the small wound he gave himself, collecting the small drop of blood there. “Yes, Creed?” I ask innocently before dipping my bloodied thumb into my mouth.

He sucks in a breath, tangling a hand in my hair and wrenching my head back. Leaning over me, our mouths close but not quite touching, Creed growls, "Do that again, and you’re going to give me some truly morbid ideas. If you don’t want to fuck in a pool of blood anytime soon, then—"

He cuts off with a curse when I grip him through his sweatpants, squeezing enough to get his attention. His hold in my hair loosens, and I smirk. “Don’t go assuming I don’t want that,” I purr, and he arches a surprised brow at me. “I think you forget how fucked up I am, Creed, so let me show you.” I nudge him back with a gentle hand until he’s standing upright again, with me kneeling at his feet in the grass, the two of us surrounded by dark sky and shadow, which feels perfect at this moment.

“Hands behind your head,” I order. There’s a challenge in his gaze, but he does as I asked, lacing his fingers together behind his head. “Such a good boy,” I tease, biting my lip to control my giggle when Creed’s nostrils flare and a muscle ticks in his jaw.

“And now, my vicious little queen? You have me at your mercy. Whatever will you do with me?”

Heat pools low in my belly at that question. Oh, he’s in for quite a treat, and he doesn’t even know it. “You’ll just have to be patient, Creed,” I tell him, and then I get to work.

With a deep breath and a steady hand, I hold down the hem of his boxers and sweats with my left hand and then position the blade against his smooth skin with my right, ready to write my claim and know that it’s forever. The first cut has Creed’s stomach tensing, but he doesn’t say a word even though I know it must hurt. Trust me, I have more than enough scars from a blade. I know it stings like a goddamn bitch. And yet, here Creed is, taking it with ease. There’s a little whisper in the back of my head that’s telling me he’s doing it for me. He knows what I went through at Mark’s hands during Fright Night, and this is Creed’s way of suffering with me.

“Tell me what you’re feeling,” I murmur as I continue carving into Creed’s skin.

He tips his head back and stares at the endless night sky and twinkling stars above us. “I feel… like I’ve been caged. Trapped. Stuck in a glass box all my life,” he begins in a rough tone. My hand stalls and I frown up at him, but before I can comment on how sad that is, Creed smiles softly down at me. “But you’re setting me free, Ember. Chipping away at the cuffs keeping me still. And now, with you branded into me for the rest of my life, it’s like the final slam of the hammer, shattering everything that’s held me back.” He pauses, drawing my attention back up to his face. After a deep sigh and a deeper furrow between his brows, he says, “I won’t lose myself like this again, Prudence. I mean it… I’m sorry if I scared you, but I-I just woke up and… nothing made sense. It was dark, and I didn’t see you in bed, and my mind just imploded. All I knew was that I had to keep us safe, keep you close… Keep you as mine.”

My cheeks heat under the intense meaning in that statement, and I couldn’t keep the soft smile from my face if I tried. “Creed,” I sigh contentedly, glad to see him coming back to himself. I thought he’d be lost in that spiral for much longer than he was. “I love all the pieces that create the man you are. Even the sharp, broken, and dull ones. And believe it or not, I could never be scared of you. For you, yes. But never of you… I just want to keep you safe, close, and mine too.”

“Prudence, baby,” Creed whispers, his voice breaking like he’s overwhelmed with emotion. I finish my design on his hip and sit back on my heels, staring up at him like he’s my god and I’m a willing slave. Or one of my gods, anyway. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

Creed simply gazes at me, giving a slight shake of his head like he can’t put it into words, but is imploring me with his eyes to understand anyway.

And I think I do.

With a smile, I set the knife aside on the ground and sweep my thumb over Creed’s new mark — one that will scar and leave a lasting brand. I’ll be your colors, it says. It’s small, but perfect. I hope he’ll appreciate the sentiment behind it, the vow of my words.

Creed drops his hands from behind his head, gently cupping my cheek with one of his warm palms. “Are you cold? We can head back inside. I think… I might be able to get some more sleep.”

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