Creed (Unfinished Hero #2)(93)

His h*ps slid off then my panties were yanked down and I went completely still so my body could enjoy being rocked by a mammothly pleasant vagina spasm.

“Give?” Creed asked again.

“No.” This time it came out on a breathy breath.

His hand shot between my legs, finger honing in on my clit.

Fuck, that felt good.

My h*ps jerked.

“Give?” he asked, now his voice was all rough, no smooth, totally hot.

Oh yeah. I gave.

“Yeah,” I gasped.

“Please, God, tell me you’re off your period.”

I’d had my period the last few days, an unfun circumstance normally, a really unfun one when I wasn’t big on ha**ng s*x during it, which meant I didn’t get to have sex with Creed. He got me off with his fingers, I got him off with my hand and mouth but it wasn’t the same.

Now I was back.

“Yep,” I gasped again, his finger moved back and plunged deep.

Nice.

I moaned into the floor.

I was ready for him, now. It had been four days. I needed him inside.

“Now, please, God, tell me you got a stash of condoms in the kitchen,” Creed went on.

Alas, I did not but after he f**ked me, I was stashing them everywhere around the house. Under seat cushions. Taped to the bottoms of tables. There would not be an inch of space in my house where a condom would be out of reach.

“No,” I answered.

“Fuck,” he clipped and I felt his finger start to move out.

I whipped my head around and looked at him over my shoulder. “Don’t. I can’t wait, Creed. Fuck me now and pull out. It’ll be cool.”

His finger did lazy strokes as his face dipped close to mine and he replied, “Baby, pulling out does not work.”

“Our luck has changed. It’ll work for us.”

“Sylvie, you just finished your period but pulling out does not work. Even a day after your period, let’s not take chances.”

I saw his mouth moving but I wasn’t sure he was speaking and this was because I was focused on all I was feeling.

God, God, even lazy stroking, not having his c**k but having his face that close to me, his finger inside me was doing a number on me.

I needed him. So much, I couldn’t focus on this shit.

I needed to move us on, immediately.

In order to do that, I announced, “Okay, so it doesn’t work and you get me pregnant. It isn’t like we both don’t want kids. It happens, I won’t be sorry.”

His finger stilled.

No!

“Creed,” I whispered and it came out sounding like what it was. A plea.

I started to lift up but his voice, a rough, low, vibrating growl I’d never heard before stopped me.

“You wanna get pregnant now?”

His words, the tone they were uttered in, performed a miracle. It took me out of what was happening to my body and into the conversation and I realized what I said.

When I did, I realized I meant every word.

“Absolutely.”

Creed stared into my eyes.

I stared back.

Then his finger disappeared and I whimpered. The feeling of loss was cut short when he yanked my panties back up, shifted, rolled me and then lifted me in his arms. When we were up, he started moving, carrying me like a groom carries his bride over a threshold, his strides long and swift, his destination clearly the bedroom.

I slid my arms around his shoulders and asked, “Creed, where are you going?”

“I’m taking you to your bed. We make a baby, Sylvie, we do it making love. Not f**king on the kitchen floor.”

Of its own accord, my hand slid up his neck into his hair, cupping the back of his head spasmodically as goosebumps rose on my skin.

When we made a baby, we did it making love.

Making love.

Making a baby.

What I wanted. What he wanted. What we’d planned.

Sixteen years late.

But, thank God, not too late.

I felt my lip start to tremble and I bit it so the feeling welling up inside me didn’t overwhelm me. I didn’t want to cry. I wanted Creed to plant our baby in me while he made love to me.

How a Nerf fight ended up like this, I didn’t know.

Just that, as with everything, as always, while experiencing something wonderful, only Creed could make it more wonderful.

He set me in the bed and immediately covered me with his body.

Creed’s hands started moving on me, mine on him and his head was descending so he could kiss me when Gun pranced in, stopped and stood by the bed.

“Meow.”

Creed’s lips were brushing mine when I whispered, “She wants breakfast.”

“She can have breakfast after we try to make a baby,” he replied, not whispering.

I grinned.

I was down with that.

Creed did not grin.

He slanted his head and kissed me.

Then he made love to me.

* * * * *

“What?” Charlene hissed.

We were sitting on her couch in her living room. Creed was outside mowing her lawn.

After Creed made love to me, we took a long shower where Creed paid more attention to me, giving me a slow, sweet orgasm and taking his time doing it. We then got dressed and went over to Charlene’s to help her with breakfast and, after, Creed went out to mow her lawn.