Page 59 of Quiet Obsession
Dash leans in, lowering his voice now we’re surrounded by other people. “I’d love to be a fly on the wall once Hyde realizes that not one buttwoof his best friends are thinking about bending his little sister over the closest flat surface.”
“Unless you want to get on my shit list, mind your words,” I clip. “I love you, but my temper’s fragile today, so I’ll knock you the fuck out.”
“Riling you up is the only way to get you to spill your guts, Creed.” He grasps my shoulder hard enough that his fingers bite into the muscle. “Try not to kill Noah, alright? Or Jasper.”
“I make no promises.”
19
Creed
Millie’s already at the gym when I enter. She waits on the bench by the boxing bags, looking up at the sound of my footsteps.
Say it, baby. Say my name.
She doesn’t, but those incredible, hazel-blue eyes latch onto mine and the softest little blush colors her cheekbones. I’ve never met another girl who blushes as adorably as Millie.
Everything about her is cuter than cute and it drives the monster inside me crazy. It makes the things I imagined doing to her last night, with my fingers tightly wrapped around my hard cock, absolutely criminal.
Millie looks delicate. More than a foot shorter than me, all soft lines and softer curves, full cheeks, full lips, gorgeous eyes. She looks like she’d shatter if I pushed too hard... andyet I can’t stop my filthy fantasies.
I can’t stop picturing her lying on her back, head just off the edge of my bed while I feed my cock deep into her throat, watching it bulge every time I bottom out. I can’t stop picturing her eyes fill with tears while she gags, or her tied wrists and ankles, body sprawled over my thighs, ass up, writhing while I wring out every ounce of pleasure from her with my fingers.
Fuck, there are so many things I want to do to her. So many ways to ruin this girl and wreck that sweet innocent aura.
Cracking my neck left and right, I pull my head out of the gutter before every ounce of blood in my body travels south and drop my bag by the bench.
“Started without me?” I ask, jutting my chin at the heaviest boxing bag swinging back and forth.
She doesn’t reply and the calmness she induced withEliyesterday is annihilated in a flash.
What the fuck changed again? Why the silent treatment? I fucking hate silence and she uses it against me like a sharpened blade. It’s one of the reasons I imagined punishing her last night.
The way she dismantles me piece by piece without even trying is another. I want to break her for it. I want to regain a shred of control by making her beg for me, for release, for five minutes to catch her breath.
I crouch beside her, rummaging through my bag for knuckle wraps. She sits very still, her skin-tight leggingshitting high up her waist, a matching training bra cutting off below her boobs.
They’re not big and that’s its own torture.
I was never into large breasts. Small enough to fit comfortably in my hands are perfect, and Millie’s tits look to be an exact match for my palms.
She shifts, pulling one hand out from under her. Slowly, she lifts it higher, ghosting her warm fingers over my forearm. I look up, catching her pouty mouth curling into an uncertain smile.
When I don’t stop her, she moves higher, lightly tracing her knuckles up the side of my neck.
Fuck, she’s not making this easier. After years of associating touch with control, pain, and coercion, I don’t know what to do with this softness she offers, but... the ever-present riot of contradicting thoughts buzzing inside my head dies down.
Goosebumps dot my nape while her eyes follow her fingers as they skim along my jaw before pulling back slowly.
“Was thathi?” I ask.
She pinches her lips, that adorable blush darkening a touch as she nods. I angle my body her way, placing both hands on her ankles. Just like yesterday, I drag up slowly, loving the way her breath hitches. It always does when I’m close.
She doesn’t move, watching my calloused fingers and split knuckles discover more of her. Calves, knees, thighs.
I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. Or why. But Ineeded to touch her so... here we are.
My eyes devour every inch of skin she can’t hide. The dip of her neck, collarbones, the column of her throat. My brain short-circuits, filling with enticing images I’ve been trying so damn hard to bottle up. The corks start flying, my body humming with everything I pushed down since the moment I first saw her.
