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Happily.

Without feeling the need to remind me I belonged to him.

The simple hold, the feeling of being together was strange yet so satisfying.

As he rolled onto his side, he wrapped his leg around my hips, the subtle move telling me in no uncertain terms I was going nowhere.

Not that I wanted to.

I had no idea how long we did nothing but hold each other, staring into the shadowed light as if the peace was exactly what we both needed. Yet his cock continued to throb, becoming hard as a rock in no time. There was no doubt the man wasn’t finished with me yet.

I was proven right maybe five minutes later when his batteries recharged completely and he rose off the bed, immediately grabbing both wrists and as if I weighed nothing, pulling me off the bed completely and into his arms.

Laughing, I wasn’t certain when I’d felt this ecstatic or peaceful, which might have been the strangest thing of all.

Creed spun me around in a circle, finally dropping me in front of the massive window. His reflection was entirely different, the softness turning into total domination. As he took one of my arms then the other, planting them over my head, my palms against the glass, his crooked smile returned. One of knowing.

“Stay right there, my sweet dancer or I will spank that bottom red. I might do that anyway because you are one very bad girl. Aren’t you?”

“Yes. And I always will be.”

His laugh was intense, leaving a deep rumble sitting in my stomach. He moved slowly, turning on one of the lights by the bed, angling it so it perfectly captured my naked figure in the window.

“Now, maybe everyone can see our sinful acts, the filth that we will create together. Binoculars. Telescopes. There are ways to see every single thing we do together. Imagine.”

And I did.

He was teasing me.

Or was he?

Did he know something I didn’t know?

More important, why was it that I was excited at the thought of being seen, not only fucking like animals but with a man like Creed?

CHAPTER 22

Creed

Cause and effect.

Actions and consequences.

Enemies and friends.

They were buzz words my father had drilled into his three sons, reminders that no matter how we handled an event or a person in life, we’d need to be careful.

As a master manipulator, he had also drilled the fact into our minds at an early age that we couldn’t trust anyone. Even fucking cartoon characters. It had taken me years to fully comprehend the characters on television weren’t going to break free from their glass prison, becoming my worst nightmare, creatures who chomped down on human flesh in the middle of the night.

And as we grew older, his hatred and distrust of women was a powerful push against relationships. He’d painted my mother as a whoring, lying bitch who’d never cared for her children. Of course, as I’d grown older, my brothers as well, we’d realized so much of what our father had taught us was based on his madness.

However, it had taken me until my later twenties to fully embrace that I was just as disturbed, maybe more so. That hadn’t made everyday living any easier, just less jaded.

Or so Styx had told me a couple of times over the years.

The thought of making love to a woman, not just fucking her like some animal had never entered my mind.

Until Bella.

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