Broken Songbird (Vicious Games #2)

22. Chapter 22

I t takes me a solid hour to stitch up Heartbreaker’s shoulder. I didn’t have any anaesthetic, so he must have felt every pierce and tug of his skin, but he didn’t complain, and actually dozed for most of it.

After Hawk and Ink got him off the table, I check on Phantom who was now in a sling, assessed a couple broken ribs and stitched up a few more cuts before giving out painkillers like candy and telling everyone to go to bed.

I pack up the medical kit and turn to clean up the horror that now covers the dining table, but Ink is already in gloves piling up soiled linen.

“He just went to shower upstairs,” he tells me without pausing his task. He’s talking about Creed.

“I can—”

“Go,” Ink says. “You’ve done plenty.”

I sigh. “Thank you, Ink.”

He grunts a reply, and I retreat to Creed’s room. He’s still in the shower when I enter and close the door. I look down; I’m covered in Heartbreaker’s blood. I suddenly feel the blood, sweat and grime all over me, and have the intense need to be clean immediately, so I cross to the bathroom and slip in.

The room is steamy, smelling faintly of soap. I can see Creed’s naked silhouette through the fogged glass of the shower, standing under the spray with his hands on the tiled wall, his head hanging between his shoulders.

I peel out of my clothes, dropping them on Creed’s discarded pile, and open the shower door, entering the warm oasis. I once again admire the tattoos across Creed’s back and reach out to trace the lines of the artwork.

He’s tense under my touch, breathing in short, controlled motions. He doesn’t move as I continue exploring the smooth lines of the ink and the defined ridges of his muscles.

“Are you injured?” I ask softly.

“No,” he says, his tone hoarse. “How’s Heartbreaker?”

“Fine.” I slide my arms around his sides, pressing myself to his warm body and hugging him firmly, resting the side of my face on his back.

“Good,” he breathes, some of the tightness in his body loosening, his breathing deepening.

We stand like this until I’m completely soaked, but content listening to Creed’s steady heartbeat under my ear.

I finally lift my head and loosen my hold. I take a deep breath, and then… I leap.

“I want us,” I say softly.

Creed’s breathing stalls, and he straightens, turning in my arms. His honey-brown eyes are sharp with an exacting focus on me. “What?”

“My broken pieces are yours if you want them,” I whisper.

His eyes burn with so many things as he cups my face with both hands reverently, and then he kisses me with fervour, like he’s been waiting a lifetime.

He backs me up, one of his hands moving to cushion my head as he presses me to the cool tile wall, his mouth never leaving mine. His touch moves down my body, then he grabs under my thighs and lifts, hooking my legs around his waist with little effort.

He pulls his mouth back and rests his forehead on mine. “We do this now, it makes us real. You and me. The full deal.”

“That’s what I want,” I say.

“No more avoiding the inevitable.”

I smile. “The undeniable.”

“Destined,” he declares with a kiss.

I pull back, gazing into my favourite honey-brown eyes. “Are we going to do this here, or are you going to take me to bed?”

The dimples appear, and I melt a little more. “So demanding, princess.”

“I know what I want.” I wrap my arms around his neck, bringing our lips close together. “So be a good boy and give it to me.”

“Such an attitude.” He nips at my bottom lip. “Let’s see what we can do about it.”

He steps back from the wall, keeping me firmly against him as he reaches behind and shuts off the water, then walks us out of the shower.

He only stops briefly to get towels before moving out of the steamy room and into the bedroom. He mostly lays out a towel on the bed, before dropping me onto the dry fabric.

He stands before me in all his ripped, tattooed, naked glory, with water droplets sliding down his body, begging to be lapped up with my tongue.

Before I can do just that, Creed drops to his knees and grabs my thighs, pulling me down the bed until my ass is at the edge. He hooks each knee on his shoulders, then his head dips down and he tastes me with a firm swipe of his tongue.

“I’ve missed this,” he says, then laves over my clit languidly. “Missed you.”

My eyes roll closed as I relax into the bed as Creed’s tongue dips and swirls in a pattern that feels made for my body, pushing my arousal higher. He inserts two fingers into my dripping heat, curling in that way that hits all the right places, and my legs squeeze around his head.

He pumps his fingers in and out of me in a purposeful rhythm with the swirling of his tongue as his free hand slides up my body. His touch is warm and calloused, sending tingles and goosebumps across my skin as his hand cups my breast.

And then he pinches my nipple hard, and I yelp, jerking up.

He lifts his head with a dimpled grin.

“Payback,” he says, his breath skating over sensitive flesh as he pinches my nipple again, making my body clench around his fingers. His eyes glow at my body’s reaction. “Seems like you like a bit of pain, princess?”

“Yes,” I pant. “Some.”

He pulls his fingers out of me, and I make a protesting sound that turns into a gasp as Creed flips me onto my front.

He moves me around the way he likes, propping my knees on the bed, spreading them wide, making my chest press further into the mattress.

“Don’t move,” he says, then he moves away from the bed.

I fight the urge to move, staying exactly where I am, breathing heavily with anticipation of what will happen next.

He returns, his hips pressing into me. “Lift up. Remain kneeling.”

I do as instructed, pushing up from the bed but remain kneeling on the mattress, my back now flush against his front.

He moves my wet hair to one side and his lips trail the top of my shoulder. His teeth sink into the crook of my neck, and I groan, pressing my ass further into him.

The vibration of his laughter makes me shiver as he releases my skin and licks his mark.

“Marking my territory,” he comments roughly in my ear.

“Caveman,” I murmur.

“Get used to it, princess. I plan on owning every part of you.”

Jesus.

He chuckles again at my lack of words as he pulls back, and his fingers start combing through my hair. He gathers up the wet strands and ties it off in a high ponytail, then wraps the length around his fist three times.

My lungs freeze as Creed, using my hair, guides me forward, and my chest and face end up pressed into the mattress again.

“Hands behind you.”

I follow his instruction, folding them on top of each other on the small of my back.

One hand still wrapped in my hair, he uses his other to guide his cock through my arousal, coating himself.

He sinks into me to the hilt in one swift stroke and we both moan obscenely. I forgot about his girth and the stretch as he fills me. It’s painful, but it subsides quickly as Creed pumps in and then out in a controlled move that sends pleasure shooting through my body.

His hand moves around my hip until his fingers press into my clit as he shifts my knee further, spreading me wider, then snaps his hips back and forth quickly.

“Fuck,” I choke out.

“Forgot how fucking perfect you feel,” he grunts out through clenched teeth as he moves at a fevered pace, fucking me hard and fast.

Hip bones crash into me, the dull ache from the consistent impact mixes with the sting across my scalp from the grip on my hair, all feeding the decadent pleasure coursing through my body, as Creed moves in and out of me at a downward angle as he works my clit.

“Creed,” I beg.

His hand disappears from my clit, and he takes one of my hands, returning both our hands between my legs.

“Feel us,” he says. “Feel how fucking perfect we are.”

I spread my fingers over my core, around Creed’s cock, feeling him slide in and out of me.

“So fucking wet,” he groans. “Do you drip for anyone else like this?”

When I don’t answer straight away, he tugs on my hair.

“N-no,” I pant out. “Only you.”

“Good,” he growls, and pumps harder into me.

He moves our hands, so our fingers are both pressing into my clit. He controls the movement, circling our touch, and I buck forward at the sensations assaulting my senses.

He moves our hands quicker as he fucks me faster, pulls my hair harder and my body surrenders, tipping over into an explosive orgasm that has me gripping the sheets and shouting my pleasure into the fabric.

Creed fucks me through the high at a frenzied rhythm until he finds his own release, dropping his hand from between my legs to catch himself before he crushes me to the bed.

He untangles his hand from my hair as he pulls out, making me shudder and slide to my side as my muscles are now gelatinous, then he collapses on the bed next to me.

“Next time,” Creed pants, “we test more of that pain tolerance.”

I squeeze out a half-assed laugh. “Definitely.”

We stay like this for a short while before Creed returns to the bathroom and I hear the water running again. He scoops me up from the bed and takes me back to the shower where we both clean up properly this time and then dry off and dress for bed.

Once I’ve adjusted the light level, Creed pulls me against him under the covers, tangling our limbs together, and plants a kiss in my damp hair.

“Thank you for waiting,” I whisper with my eyes closed. My body and mind relaxed for what feels like the first time in a long time.

“For you? An eternity,” he slurs as we both drift off.

“Okay, now come to a stop,” Lucas instructs, his voice never wavering from calm. “Easy on the brake.”

I, however, am not calm.

I move my foot from the accelerator to the brake pedal and try to ‘ease’ to a stop but end up jolting both of us in our seats.

I let out a frustrated sigh as I put the car in park and pull the handbrake. Lucas brought me to a shipping yard for our first driving lesson. I didn’t ask questions about the nefarious ways people like Lucas have access to places like this, but I’m grateful because I would have totalled Lucas’ fancy car multiple times by now.

“Why can’t I get this?” I ask, dropping my head back on the headrest and closing my eyes.

“You have it,” Lucas says, “but you’re in your head about it.”

I open my eyes and look at Lucas. “Did your kid have this much trouble?”

That signature ghost smile is back. “Henri was possibly worse.”

“I thought you had a daughter.”

He nods. “Henriette. But only her mother can call her by her full name.”

I smile. “Are you married to her mother?”

His eyes pinch the slightest at the edges. “Widowed.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

He gives me a slight nod in thanks, then his expression changes back to focused. “Let’s go again. This time easy on the brake.”

After another hour of careful instruction and gruff praise, I’m finally driving smoother and with more confidence.

“Now, you’re going to drive yourself home,” Lucas announces.

I would have slammed my foot on the brake if we weren’t already idle. I whip my head to him. “Lucas—”

“Nope,” he says, cutting off my protests immediately. “Let’s go. I’ve had multiple messages from Creed about hoarding your time.”

My cheeks warm, my stomach aflutter with anticipation and nerves as I huff my annoyance and drive us toward the shipping yard’s exit.

Some sort of miracle happens, and I get us to my apartment parking lot without incident.

I even feel good about it.

Lucas instructs me to park the car into an empty bay and we both get out. I throw my arms around Lucas without warning and hug him tight. “You’re a miracle worker!”

He’s rigid in my embrace as he pats between my shoulders softly in a very ‘dad’ way.

“All you need is practice,” he says simply. “I’ll come by tomorrow.”

I pull away from Lucas and beam at him. “My classes start at nine.”

He nods once, and then his eyes flick behind me. I turn to see Creed climbing out of his car, his bike strapped the back.

Lucas pulls out my bag from the back seat and places it on the curb, then approaches the driver’s side.

“See you in the morning,” he says as he gets in his car and turns on the engine.

I move to the curb, giving Lucas a little wave as he pulls out of the park. Creed bounds up and collects me into a bear hug, lifting me off the ground.

“I missed you,” he breathes, his face buried in the crook of my neck.

“I was gone for like three hours,” I say, even though I’m wrapped around him like I was gone for a lot longer.

“Too long,” he grumbles and then finally pulls back. He gifts me a dimpled smile before kissing me hard and then setting me down but doesn’t let go. “You sure you don’t want to stay at Savage Wings longer?”

With the Navarros cleared out for now, Creed lifted the lockdown but has everyone on a strict check-in regime with him. The only people left at the Savage Wings warehouse is Rita and Bull since they don’t have anywhere to live seeing as how their apartment burned down with the bar.

“Yes,” I say for the fifth time today, circling my arms around his neck. “If you didn’t notice, I don’t drive, and getting a rideshare in that area is the worst. So, I’m either trapped at the warehouse or burdening someone to take me places.”

“You’re never a burden,” he says immediately.

I smile. “I would be at some point. Plus, everyone left today, and Rita and Bull need breathing space. Plus, the club has business which I don’t want to disrupt.”

He’s about to argue my points, but I rise onto my toes and kiss him. He accepts the distraction, pressing me into his hardness, revealing how much he appreciates this type of distraction.

Before we tear each other’s clothes off in the parking lot, I pull back, trying to catch my breath. “Let’s go inside. I have bags to unpack, and you wanted to train together before I study.”

He nods, but his eyes are glued to my mouth. I know this look: all-consuming and devoted focus.

A fixation.

Since the night of the raid, it’s like Creed removed the sheer veil he used to somewhat dampen this side of him. I’m realising now that it’s always been there, from the moment we met, but it wasn’t wholly consuming until now.

He waited for me.

Warmth fills my chest, a smile easing across my face.

Destined.

“You better bring me inside before I drag you down to this pavement,” I drawl, drunk on thoughts of inevitability and warmth.

He lets out a tortured sound that shoots pleasure straight to my clit, then he kisses me hard again, stealing more of my resolve, before he pulls back completely and gathers all my bags, heading for the door.

I stare at his retreating form for several moments, trying to remember anything before I was a throbbing mess.

“You coming, princess?” he says over his shoulder with a dimpled smirk.

I rush after him, key fob already in hand, heart racing. “Soon, I hope.”