Page 153 of Quiet Obsession
Am I still dreaming?
I swear Creed wrapped himself around me as soon as he wiped a washcloth between my legs. He put the lights out and fell asleep before my head hit the pillow.
My skin goosebumps as I look between them, their attention laser-focused, but no words leave their mouths. Noah pulls from his bottle and Creed cocks an eyebrow.
“What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, draping one arm over the back of the couch. “You’re flushed. Bad dream?”
I swallow hard, shaking my head softly, still not entirely sure if this is real. We were just here, and now we’re here again. All three of us.
A bit dazed, I scramble out of bed, my bare feet hitting the cool hardwood. I shudder. Every inch of my skin is on fire as I pad toward the couch, pinching my lips, eyes jumping between Creed and Noah.
The former grasps a fistful of the white tee I’m wearing—his tee—and pulls me onto his lap as soon as I’m within reach. The latter stares as he always does, face hewn in stone, unwavering control on display.
“Fuck, you’re burning up,” Creed rasps when I straddle him, His hand lands on my thigh and squeezes as he drags me closer. “What were you dreaming about, Millie?”
He sinks his fingers into my flesh, then drags themhigher to palm my ass. I gasp softly, my cheeks burning hot, eyes darting toward Noah.
He’s still watching.
Creed yanks me further into him, my damp panties resting over his groin, his cock hardening beneath me. He moves his hand between us, stroking one finger over my clit, a low groan spilling out of his mouth.
“What are you—” I start, but he does it again and my hips buckle into him, a soft moan tearing from my lips.
“You better tell me you were dreaming about me, Millie Baby,” he grits out, stroking me slowly.
I tremble over him, lips parting, eyes swinging to Noah, my skin flushing hotter when I find his pupils blown wide, the soft fabric of his sweats tented.
“Don’t look at him,” Creed warns.
So he knows Noah’s here...
“What’s happening?” I whisper.
This can’t be real.
I’m dreaming for sure.
“You’re worked up,” he says, pushing my panties aside, two fingers swiping my pussy. “Fuck, that must’ve been one hell of a dream.”
He’s said that to me before. When I woke up in Noah’s bed and found him there. I close my eyes, breathing in deeply, and when I open them again, nothing’s changed.
They’re both still in the room.
As if his friend isn’t sitting right there, as if we’re alone, Creed pushes one finger inside me. My hips jerk, and I gasp,my forehead hitting his shoulder.
Reality blurs with the dream.
But this... thismustbe a dream.
How else do I explain Creed’s finger moving inside me while Noah watches? I turn to look at him, my eyes hooded, his too, and... he’s palming his cock through his sweats.
“Creed...?” I ask, unable to tear my gaze from his friend.
“Shh, I’m here. I’ve got you. I’ll make it better, baby. You were close, weren’t you?”
I nod and Creed adds another finger.
“Oh God,” I wail, arching back, my spine bowing away, hips jutting me further into his hand, chasing the pleasure that’s oh so close. He finger-fucks me slowly, his lips parted, dark eyes roving my face, down my chest, my nipples peaked beneath the tee, and my eyes go to Noah again.
