Page 112 of Creeping Lily
That truth pulses through my blood, drowning out the flicker of guilt that tries to surface. Whatever rules I thought I had, whatever lines I swore I wouldn’t cross—they dissolve under the weight of this moment. I can’t ignore what’s between us. Not when her eyes tell me she feels it too.
I’m on the edge of the bed before I realize I’ve moved, my hands sliding to her waist. I pull her in until she’s standing between my knees, so close I can breathe her in. Jasmine. Clean skin. The kind of scent that hits somewhere deeper than my lungs, stirring up images of spring mornings and warm rain, of light breaking through the dark. She smells like everything good I’ve never deserved.
I bend forward, my mouth finding the smooth line of her stomach. I trail slow, deliberate kisses up over her ribs, circlingher belly button, tasting the salt of her skin. She tastes like she smells—sweet, alive, dangerous to a man like me.
I’ve fought this. God knows I’ve fought it. But even the strongest dam cracks eventually.
I take her breast into my mouth, my lips closing over a tight peak. Her gasp turns into a soft moan, vibrating through me. I let go only to tease her, my tongue drawing lazy circles that make her arch toward me before I give her other breast the same attention. She’s warm, soft, and trembling under my mouth, and I’m struck dumb all over again that she’s here—with me, of all people.
She could have had anyone. Guys who lined up for a chance she never gave. But she’s here. Choosing me.
I don’t give her a chance to rethink it. My hands grip her thighs, and in one swift movement, I lift her. She lets out a startled yelp, her fingers clutching at my shoulders. I lay her back on the bed, her hair spilling across the pillow like a dark halo. The sight of her like this—laid out, waiting—hits me so hard my chest aches.
I crawl over her, my thigh sliding between hers, pressing up until she gasps. “You are so damn beautiful,” I mutter, my gaze locked on her mouth as she catches her lip between her teeth, teasing me without saying a word.
She arches, closing the distance, and then she’s kissing me—hungry, desperate. Her tongue tangles with mine, and I press my body fully against hers. She can’t miss the hard line of me against her stomach, even through the fabric. I break away just long enough to strip my pants and boxers, the need clawing at me now.
The foil packet tears in my hands, the latex snapping into place with a finality that makes my pulse quicken. I don’t take my time. I can’t.
She drags me down, craving more of me—more skin, moreheat. My cock presses into her thigh hard enough that I know she’ll carry the mark tomorrow. Her hand slips between us, curling around me, stroking, and I nearly lose it right there like some starved teenager.
I pull back just in time, catch her mouth again, kissing her rough and deep, my teeth catching on her bottom lip. Her moans turn ragged, her nails scraping down my back. Then she bites my shoulder—sharp enough to send a bolt of pain shooting through me. I rear back, our eyes locking, both of us breathing hard. She’s fire.
I line myself up, pausing just long enough to read her gaze—daring me.
I push into her slowly, the heat of her wrapping around me, pulling me deeper. “Damn,” I groan. “So damn wet, Lily.”
She hooks her legs around my waist, drawing me in until there’s nothing left between us but the pounding of our hearts. I start slow, savoring the glide, the way her body molds perfectly to mine. But soon the rhythm builds, our moans tangling in the air.
This is more than I imagined. And still, it’s not enough. I want to claim every inch of her, to taste her skin after she’s spent, to etch myself into her so she’ll never forget me.
Her voice comes in short, breathless bursts. “Oh… fuck…” The sound of her falling apart around me drags me under with her. I thrust harder, faster, chasing that last peak until my release crashes over me in shattering waves.
I collapse against her, catching my weight on one arm, my other hand pulling her close. My face buries in her hair, and I breathe her in—like I could keep this moment alive just by refusing to let it go.
She’s so damn beautiful.
And now she’s mine.
Lily lies across my chest,her hair spilling over me like silk, her fingers dragging idle shapes into my skin. Circles. Lines. Something careless, something innocent. She doesn’t realize every lazy stroke feels like a brand. I’ve lived years without touch, years where my skin was nothing but armor, and now… now it feels like she’s sketching me back to life.
I keep still. I always keep still. But inside, my bones are restless.
Then her hand moves higher, toward my jaw, toward the edge of the mask.
The mask.
Her fingers glide over it, soft, reverent, like she can touch through it. She doesn’t understand. She shouldn’t.
“Why do you wear it?” she whispers.
I inhale, slow and sharp, forcing my chest to stay steady under hers. “You already know why.”
Her eyes flick up to mine, searching, bright even in the half-dark. “I know what you want me to think. That it’s anonymity. Protection. Fear.” Her thumb strokes across the false cheekbone. My jaw tightens beneath it. “But that’s not all of it, is it?”
The way she says it makes something ugly claw up my throat.Could she know?I grip her hip tighter, grounding myself in her softness. “Lily…” My voice comes out low, rough. A warning.
But she doesn’t back down. She never does. “I want to know you. Not just the mask. Not just Titan. You. Inside and out.”
