Creed's Expectations Read online

  My legs give out and I almost take Creed down with me. With a sharp spank to my ass, it brings me back alert.

  “Kitten, let go of my fingers. Your cunt doesn’t want to let them go.” I loosen my core and Creed removes his fingers, causing an emptiness to take its place. My legs are like Jell-O and I’m still trying to catch my breath. I’m sure I look like a complete mess in my position.

  Creed leans over me, offering another small smack to my ass. “Up on the bed. I want your shirt off. And I want you on all fours.”

  “I’m not sure I can move,” I mumble, my heart rate almost back to normal. I feel his entire body cover mine, his warm breath against my earlobe.

  “I’m not asking. I’m telling. You can climb onto the bed and remove your shirt, or I will rip it off you. In this position, I would just have to flip you. I bet you would look beautiful as I fuck your mouth.”

  My eyes widen in shock at his bold words. Strangely, my sex clenches. I begin to move slowly, rising from the ground and pulling myself all the way up onto the bed. Grabbing a quick glance at Creed, he is already standing, removing his suit coat and tie. It doesn’t go unnoticed that before I turn away, I get a quick view of the thick bulge in his pants.

  Turning back to the bed, I do as I’m told. With no one to catch me, a small smirk crosses my face. I can’t believe I’m doing this. And with someone like Creed Monroe. I climb on my knees, and with my back to him, I begin slowly unbuttoning my blouse. Just as they do it in the story books. Slow, seductive and—

  “Whoa!”

  And my blouse is ripped from behind. Creed’s move startles me as the silk material rips down the back. Dammit, Amy is going to kill me.

  “There isn’t anything slow about what we’re doing. I’m going to fuck you fast and hard. Turn around and let me see those fucking tits.”

  Okay, so that’s a no on the slow and seductive. Got it.

  I follow his instructions, hoping he isn’t too disappointed with my average C’s. The moment I turn though, my breath catches in my throat. He’s naked. And huge. In all areas. His body is toned, with muscle in all the right places. His manly part is a bit larger than what my vagina can handle, but I’m sure we’ll figure it out. They always fit. Per Amy.

  “You like what you see, Kitten?” he asks, a low rumble in his tone.

  “You’re… very… um, big.” And an F goes to the nerd who sounds disappointed in his dick size.

  He only smiles that smug grin, making my skin flush with goosebumps. “God, your lips tempt me. Full and wet. Tell me to behave or I’m going to fuck your mouth and come until my juices pour down your throat. Then I’m going to fuck those perfect tits of yours while I work your clit again. Would you like that?”

  My lips part, cheeks flushing with the image of him inside my mouth. My heart rate speeds up, along with the fire inside me. “You’re a pig.”

  He simply chuckles, using one hand to begin stroking his hard length. “More like the big bad wolf, ready to maul that pussy of yours.” I have no idea why, but I laugh. I throw my head back and a loud bellow escapes my lips.

  He’s on me instantly, taking a chunk of my hair and wrapping it around his fist. Pulling gently on my hair, he brings my head back to look me in the eye. “Deny it. Deny that you aren’t curious how my cock would taste in your mouth.”

  “I’m not,” I return, but my voice doesn’t sound convincing. I’ll admit I’ve only done oral a few times, but it hadn’t been anything enjoyable. My first time was before I was married and I botched it, and any other time after that wasn’t the smoothest. I’m tempted to respond, letting him know he doesn’t want his dick in my mouth.

  “I want you on your ass. Slide up the bed, and sit Indian-style.” He doesn’t give me time to debate this one, as he starts climbing on the bed as well. I scoot up and sit, him taking his place directly in front of me. His dick right in front of my face.

  “Open your mouth.”

  “Um, I’m not really sure you want me to do this. It might not end well for you.” He gives me a curious look and I simply shrug. Just being honest.

  “Anything to go slow, I see. How about I just tease those lips and if I feel like you won’t bite my cock off, we’ll continue.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and I’m almost caught off guard by his playfulness. But then he wraps his hand around his dick and brings it to my lips.

  “Open up, Kitten.”

  With an it’s your dick’s funeral look on my face, I part my lips. I keep my eyes locked on his as he takes the tip of his dick and glides it along my lower lip. Bringing it to my top lip, I take the opportunity to stick my tongue out and lick him. The grunt that runs up his throat is arousing, and it gives me the boldness I need to do more.

  “You do that again, and I’m going to jam my cock down your throat. I can’t hold back when you turn me on like that.”

  My expression says I want to play this game. Kinda. I’m probably going to end up gagging on his gigantic monster and choke to death. But he just admitted I’m turning him on, and that’s sorta like a point for me, so I do it again.

  “Fuck, open wider,” he growls and this time, he pushes the tip inside my mouth. I have a second of panic because this is where I always mess up. Lips, no teeth, Kasey. I take a deep breath, allowing my jaw to relax. I’ve seen Amy demonstrate this a billion times on a banana after sharing my horror stories, so I grab those small tips from the back of my brain and use them to my benefit. Making a round O with my lips, I work my mouth around him. I can’t tell if I’m doing it right or wrong, but the small grunts are hopefully a good sign. Using my tongue, I wet the tip of his dick and wrap my lips around him.

  “Yeah, just like that,” he groans and pushes further into my mouth. He doesn’t go all the way because he’s pretty big and he knows I’m not ready for it. With his hand, he strokes the base of his shaft while I work on his tip.

  “Fuck, your hot little mouth feels good.” I’m sucking faster, bobbing my head up and down, causing my own throbbing sensation down below. If I wasn’t concentrating so hard on not biting him, I would use my hand to rub at my clit. I, too, begin to moan. His free hand lodges into my scalp, and with his grip, begins pushing my head further onto his cock. With each thrust, I take him deeper, each one making me feel more powerful. His tongue is loose with filthy talk, and every word he uses to describe how my mouth feels is a boost to my confidence.

  With my hands needing something to do, I lift them, one wraps around his thick muscled thigh, the other cups his balls.

  “Fuck…” he grunts, tightening the hold on my hair. “You’re enjoying this, Kitten, aren’t you? I can smell your sweet cunt from here.”

  I’m pretty darn turned on, feeling unstoppable. My clit is throbbing and I’m in need of something. Another release? I’m not sure. I’ve never been in this position before. Literally. I try and answer, but it only causes Creed to groan louder. “Shit, you’re humming on my dick.” He then quickly pulls out of my mouth. “Enough, I need inside you. But first, I need your mouth.” He bends down and kisses me hard. There is definitely nothing slow about this. He’s rough and demanding. Parting me and slamming his tongue against mine.

  He devours my mouth for what seems like hours, using his hands to pinch and tug at my nipples. He wasn’t lying when he said he wouldn’t be gentle with me. Each assault has me at the brink of both pleasure and pain.

  He bites down on my lower lip, moving lower to nip at my chin, my neck, and his full mouth around my breast. I wrap my hands into his hair as he brutally sucks on my nipple. When I can’t take anymore, I squeeze a chunk of his hair, but he only works me harder. Faster. Finally, he releases my abused breast and with one hand, pushes me back onto the mattress.

  I lift my vision to meet his. If our eyes spoke, they would scream lust. Need. Desire. His are dark. He leans over me, taking my mouth once more, until breathing becomes an issue and he releases my lips, moving down my body. Past my breast, down my stomach and with another swoop of his masterfu
l tongue, he takes a quick lick to my slick center. I want to grab for his thick hair, but he’s already sliding off the bed and grabs for my legs. Pulling me so my ass is almost hanging off, he lifts my legs up so they’re straight in the air.

  “Your cunt is glistening. Fucking beautiful. Hang on tight baby, this isn’t going to be your typical fairy tale fuck.” And with that, he thrusts his cock into me. I groan instantly on contact. The angle and the size of him brings him deeper than I’ve ever felt. Pulling out and slamming back into me, I reach for the sheets to hold me in place.

  “So tight. Fuck.” In and out, he pounds into me. His balls slap at the back of my ass and with each grunt, I feel as if he grows even bigger inside me.

  “Creed, it’s too much… it’s… ahhhh.” I lose my fight when a spasm takes over me, my sex beginning to squeeze around him. He instantly pulls out, flipping me onto my stomach.

  My chest hits the mattress, feeling the heat of his body as he hovers above me. “Not so fast, Kitten. We’re not done playing yet,” he growls, spreading my legs with his knee. With a rough grip, he lifts my hips, with the ease of my slick pussy, he pushes back inside of me from behind. Another raspy moan erupts from my lips. It’s just as deep, but goddamn, with each thrust, he pounds me further into the mattress, the soft sheets rubbing against my breasts, as Creed fucks me from behind.

  I’m panting, moaning, most likely making those damn cat noises while I work to hold on to my orgasm, but my body is seconds away from giving out. I lost count on how many times I’ve moaned yes and more, but with each plea, he gives it to me. Works me harder, faster, and just when I feel my body cease, a hand reaches over and grabs for my breast. Taking my whole tit into his hand and squeezing, I know I’m done. My orgasm ripples through me, causing my voice to break, the scream of pure ecstasy lodging in my throat.

  With my sex pulsating around him, Creed loses any control he still held and starts pounding into me so aggressively it causes me to cry out again. His hand digs into my scalp, pulling my head back and with one more thrust, he pulls out, and I feel the warmth of his release on my back.

  A BEEPING SOUND RADIATES IN the back of my head, but I account for it being a part of my dream. A dream where I just got tossed around and royally fucked. I sigh in my sleep, flipping to my other side and snuggle the pillow against my chest.

  The beeping noise continues to get louder, and with no signs of stopping, I open one eye to see the clock blaring six in the morning.

  Six in the…

  “Oh shit!” I sit up quickly, enough to rush too much blood to my brain and flop me back down onto the mattress. I instantly feel the soreness in my chest, my hips, and in between my legs. Oh, my God, it wasn’t a dream. I turn to my right, embarrassed to see him. But the other side of the bed is empty.

  He left.

  One night and I’m gone.

  I rest my head on the pillow, allowing my night to play back in my head. I blush just thinking of all the ways he touched me. How far he pushed my body, my pleasure, to such a brink. I cover my face with my hands, hiding my huge smile. I can’t believe I did that. I flop once again onto my stomach. I take the pillow and bring it to my nose. I can still smell the masculine scent of him on the pillowcase.

  Creed Monroe.

  My ex-husband’s brother.

  I just had the most amazing sex with my ex’s brother!

  I begin to laugh hysterically until my fits of laughter turn on me and I begin to sob.

  What in the world have I done?

  I cover my mouth and cry, feeling regret for making such a horrible mistake. I should not have done that. No matter how mad I am at Steven. He was the one who suggested it. And I should have been the adult. His wild ways should not have won me over, convincing me that betraying Steven, no matter how bad he hurt me, was the right decision.

  I get up and shower, the guilt continuing to weigh heavy in my chest. I know I can’t take back what I did. Nor can I wipe away the most amazing night I have ever had. I scrub my body, hoping if I rub hard enough at the marks and scent of him on my skin, it will relieve the guilt. My raw nipples perk under the warm water and the soreness in-between my legs still pulsates as I wash away the suds.

  Getting out of the shower, I wipe away the fog and gasp at the visible marks. The marks he left. My hand brushes over the cherry marks on my breasts, remembering the pain and pleasure of him sucking, pinching, biting. I squeeze my legs tightly together at the memory, feeling myself getting wet at the mere thought of his mouth.

  “Huge mistake, Kasey,” I remind myself, ashamed at how much I enjoyed it. How free I felt at each dirty assault. Feeling uneasy in the stomach, I blow dry my hair and dress for the day in a gray suit Amy lent me, with a lower set of heels, making sure I would last the whole day in them.

  While applying my makeup, I wonder what Creed was even doing here at the hotel. Was he here for the job fair? Did he live nearby? Was he leaving another woman’s hotel room when I bumped into him?

  A strange sense of anger washes over me at the thought. We didn’t exchange numbers or any other personal information. He gave me exactly what he promised, then he was gone. I wonder at what point during the night he left. Considering how sated I was, he could have walked out and left me a sticky mess and I wouldn’t even have noticed.

  Satisfied with my makeup and attire, I grab for my giant stack of resumes and realize the folder is open. Looking closer, the pile is no longer neatly stacked as I had left it. Someone was looking at my resume. It could only have been Creed. Great. He probably took one look at my pathetic job history and laughed. What job history, Kasey? Exactly. Amy referred me to an old colleague of hers who specialized in resume building. We struggled in work history, since technically I hadn’t held a job before, so we had to get clever and find other ways to spruce up my resume. Internships, volunteer work, all my “other” experience. Yeah. A sad one-page resume that screams “don’t bother hiring me.”

  I take a seat on the bed, wondering if I should even bother with this fair. Everyone is going to want experience and I don’t have any. What am I supposed to say? That my ex-husband kept me home and swore I didn’t need to work because he was going to support me, but in fact, he was busy supporting his mistress’s ass against the hospital wall while he banged her into next week?

  My stomach turns again and I shake off the thought. I need to stop. Nothing I do will change the past. And if I can’t get over it, then Steven will always win.

  I get back up and stuff my resumes into my tote bag. I grab for my purse and search for my room key which is nowhere to be found. Great, now I’ll have to stop at the front desk and replace it before the fair.

  I head down, hoping to make it for the free breakfast, not that I can eat anything. My stomach is suddenly in knots. I equate the nauseous feeling to nerves and hope that getting a little bit of caffeine in me will help because today is an important day. I need to have my head in the game.

  When I first saw the pamphlet for the National Job Fair Association event, I knew this was my golden ticket. But then I saw the cost just to attend and all those hopes and dreams crashed into a huge pile of not gonna happen. I mean, who in God’s name could afford to pay such a high cost to attend a job fair? Um, hello? They clearly have no jobs!

  Thankfully, Amy loves me to the moon and back—her words—and lent me the rest of the money I needed. She said when I got my big bad CEO job, I could pay her back. Of course, my goal was anything administrative. As in, praying to be someone’s coffee bitch at this point would be just fine.

  I make it down to the lobby when the shooting pains start in my stomach.

  “No, no, no,” I chant. I don’t need this right now. A few deep breaths and I decide to steer clear of the breakfast buffet and head straight into the fair.

  “Hello, I’m checking in for the job fair,” I announce to the nice lady at the registration table and hand her my ID and form. My stomach rumbles once again, and I smile apologetically at the woman, who
clearly heard.

  “Looks like you signed up for early access. Smart. It’s going to be a crazy day. Head right in, the map indicates the company and job field. Good luck!” I take the information and head inside.

  Wow, she wasn’t kidding. The room, which doesn’t open for the general admission for another hour, is already packed. I see lines of people in business attire waiting to speak to recruiters, some at tables conducting actual interviews already, and tons of people wandering around aimlessly trying to pick a booth. I look at my sheet, trying to figure out where to start.

  I notice the first company is a marketing firm looking for all types of experience. Bingo. I head up to the booth, thankful no one is in line. But the second I make it up front, my stomach clenches, and I double over in pain.

  “Oh wow, you okay there?”

  Not now!

  I take in a deep breath and pull myself up, ignoring the battle in my stomach. “Yes, sorry. Hi, my name is Kasey Bishop, I would love to…”

  Dammit!

  Down I go again.

  My hands are becoming clammy and I can’t decide whether we’re looking at a mouth or bottom issue. Whichever it is, I have to work through this.

  Deep breaths.

  “Sorry, must be nerves.” I grab for a resume and notice my hands are shaking. The gentleman notices as well and awkwardly accepts my resume. “I would be honored to hear more about your…”

  This is not happening to me.

  “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.” Covering my mouth, I run out of the banquet hall and straight to the bathroom. I barely make it into a stall before I throw up. I hear a few people in the bathroom gag and complain that someone is yacking their brains out. “Sorry!” I try and say over the gagging and flushing. But before I can speak again, I go right into round two.

  “Why?” I moan after my third round, wiping my mouth of vomit. I stand straight, realizing that I’ve sweat through my blouse and I accidentally got barf in my hair. My stomach is still on a rampage and, even after three rounds, I feel no better. It’s then I feel the urge for another bout, but this time from the other end. “Oh no.” I can’t do this here. I need to get back to my room.