Page 45 of Pretend You're Mine

His teeth grazed my jaw, sending a shiver down my spine. “You have no idea what you do to me.” His hands tightened on my waist, pulling me flush against him, letting me feel just how much he meant those words. The heat of his body, the hardness of his dick pressed against my thigh—it sent a jolt of electricity straight through me, setting my skin on fire.

My breaths came faster, my hands gripping his shoulders for balance as the water continued to cascade over us, turning everything hot and slick. I wanted him, wanted this, more than I’d ever wanted anything before, and that terrified me. But the fear melted away when I met his eyes, saw the hunger and the tenderness that burned there, all for me.

“I don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready for,” he murmured, his thumb tracing circles against my hip. “You say the word, and we’ll stop.”

A lump rose in my throat, and I had to swallow hard before I could speak. “I— I want this. I wantyou.” My voice cracked, but I pushed through, letting the truth spill out. “I’m scared, but not of you.”

Something softened in his expression, his hand cradling my face, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone in a gesture so gentle it almost broke me. He kissed me again, and this time, it was like a promise, a reassurance that he’d be there, that he wouldn’t let me fall.

We stepped out of the shower and moved to the bed, still dripping wet, leaving a trail of water across the carpet, but I didn’t care. All I could focus on was the heat in Avery’s gaze as he pushed me gently back onto the mattress, his hands roamingover my skin like he was mapping out every inch of me. He kissed a line down my throat, along my collarbone, each touch sending sparks dancing across my skin, until I was arching up into him, desperate for more.

I’d never felt anything like this before—this slow burn that built between us, the way every touch seemed to light me up from the inside. My hands clenched in the sheets as he worked his way lower, his mouth tracing a path down my chest, his breath hot. He whispered things against my skin, words that made my heart trip over itself, made me believe I was worth wanting.

“You’re gorgeous like this,” he breathed, his voice low and husky, vibrating against my stomach. “All spread out for me, hungry for me.”

Heat crawled up my neck, and I forced myself to meet his gaze, even though the intensity there made me want to look away. But he held my stare, his eyes dark with desire, and there was something almost tender in the way he smiled at me, like I was some rare, precious thing he couldn’t believe he’d found.

The world outside slipped away as he took his time, exploring every inch of me with hands that knew when to be firm and when to be gentle. His touch sent shivers racing across my skin, making me feel exposed but safe. He trailed kisses down my neck, pausing to whisper against my ear, “You okay, Creed?” His voice was tender, but there was a rough edge to it—possessive, like he wanted me to know that this was real, that he wouldn’t rush.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I whispered back, my voice cracking on the last word. Avery’s breath hitched in response, and I could feel the tension between us, the way it coiled tighter with each careful caress.

He reached in the top drawer of the bedside table for the lube, warming it between his hands before slipping one fingerinside my hole, working me open with slow, careful movements. The sensation was strange and intense, but he kept me grounded with kisses, pressing his lips to my temple, my jawline, anywhere he could reach. “I’ve got you, I promise,” he murmured, his voice a soothing rumble. I believed him—wanted to believe him.

I arched into his touch, needing more but not knowing how to ask for it. Avery chuckled softly, reading the unspoken plea in my movements. “You’re doing so well, Creed,” he said, adding another finger and stretching me with gentle insistence. “Let me hear you.”

A moan slipped past my lips, raw and unguarded. His free hand cupped my face, his thumb brushing across my cheek as he watched my reactions closely, waiting for any sign that I needed him to slow down. “You’re safe with me. You know that, right? I’ve got you.”

I nodded, my body trembling with need and nerves, even while he added the third finger. “Yeah, I do,” I breathed, leaning into his touch. The way he looked at me—like I was something precious, something he couldn’t bear to hurt—made my chest tighten in a way I wasn’t sure how to unpack.

When he finally moved over me, his body covering mine, he paused, pressing our foreheads together. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispered. I met his gaze, reveling in the warmth of his body against mine, and nodded.

And then he pushed inside, slow and careful, giving me time to adjust. The stretch burned at first, but he stayed close, pressing kisses to my temple, my lips, breathing my name as if it were a sacred vow. I clung to him, the sensations overwhelming, but the sound of his voice, the weight of his body over mine, kept me grounded.

“You’re doing so good, Creed,” he murmured, his voice rough with restraint. “You feel so damn good, baby.”

I clung to him, my fingers digging into his shoulders as the pleasure and pain twisted together, melting into something that made my breath hitch, made my whole body tighten around him. He moved slowly at first, his hips rolling in a rhythm that sent waves of heat crashing through me, each thrust pushing me closer to the edge.

And then something broke inside me, something I didn’t even know I’d been holding back, and I let myself go. I let the fear and the shame fall away, let myself feel everything—every touch, every breath, every broken sound that fell from my lips. Avery kissed me through it, his mouth hot and urgent against mine, swallowing my gasps, my moans, until there was nothing left but the two of us, tangled together in the heat and the darkness.

When I finally came apart, it was like a dam breaking, my whole body shuddering as the pleasure washed over me, leaving me gasping and raw. Avery followed, his arms wrapping around me, holding me tight as he buried his face in my neck, his breath hot against my skin.

For a long time, we just lay there, our bodies tangled together, our breaths mingling in the moonlight. The room was quiet, the only sound the steady thud of our heartbeats, and I felt a strange, aching warmth bloom in my chest. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I felt whole, like all the broken pieces inside me had finally settled into place.

I didn’t say it—couldn’t bring myself to speak the words that hung heavy in the air between us. But as Avery’s fingers traced lazy circles against my back, as he pressed a kiss to my temple and whispered my name like a promise, I thought maybe he understood. And maybe that was enough.

CHAPTER 27

AVERY

Creed stirred beside me, his hair a mess, his breaths slow and even. I watched him for a moment longer than I probably should have, memorizing the way his face looked in the early light, peaceful and at ease. Warmth bloomed in my chest, and I felt like I was holding something rare and fragile, afraid to let it go.

One more day, I reminded myself. One more day here in this quiet bubble before we had to head back to Chicago, before reality came crashing back in. But the thought of leaving like this, without knowing what came next, twisted something inside me. I couldn’t imagine not having Creed with me. Not after everything we’d shared, everything we’d found together. Despite our differences, I was sure we could make it work. I had to find the words to tell him that tonight, after dinner.

Creed’s eyes fluttered open, and he gave me a sleepy smile that made something warm unfurl in my chest. “Morning,” he mumbled, voice rough with sleep, and I couldn’t help but grin back at him.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” I nudged him with my shoulder, enjoying the way he squirmed under the blankets, trying to hold onto those last few moments of warmth. But soon enough,we were up, showering then pulling on sweaters and jeans and heading downstairs.

The snow outside was untouched, a blanket of white stretching out beneath the winter sun, and we didn’t waste any time sinking our boots into it, leaving tracks behind us as we walked the grounds. The air was crisp, biting against my skin, but with Creed’s hand in mine, it didn’t feel so bad. We talked about nothing in particular—places he wanted to visit, the best coffee shops in Chicago, even the way the snow crunched under our feet. It felt easy, natural, like we’d known each other for much longer than a few weeks.

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