“It seems like a lot to do lunch with my parents tomorrow considering everything that is happening right now,” she murmured, giving him an out.
“Bullshit,” Creed said with the ghost of a grin. “I’ve always wanted to eat a luncheon at a country club right off a golf course.” His accent had gone proper at the end.
She laughed and bit his side gently. “That’s a typical power-play done by Graham and Judy Cromwell, a-k-a the kind and sensitive grandparents to your child. It’s a signature move to take parties they want to belittle to their country club instead of their home. It says they don’t respect us enough to invite us into their territory. They’ll probably have an I Hate Shifters banner across the grand entrance to greet us.” She giggled at the image. Mom and Dad really weren’t as nice as Creed was thinking he could convince them to be. It was very sweet of him to try, though.
“If I can handle Easton for two years without killing him, I can handle a lunch with your parents.”
She looked up at his strong jaw and chiseled cheek bones when he stopped talking. He hadn’t shaved this morning, and the scruff on his face made him look rugged and sexy. And those silver eyes he’d been donning most of the day gave him an edge of danger. Perhaps he could handle her ball-busting parents.
“Do you think the boys fought on the landing without you and Matt there to break them up?”
Creed laughed and stroked a strand of her long hair out of her face. “That’s a hell yes. They probably didn’t get any work done. I don’t know why I even sent them up to work today. We’ll have to make up the numbers when we get back. I might be scarce for a few days trying to catch us up.”
“Hmm, that sounds not fun,” she murmured as she rolled up and straddled his hips.
Shimmying down him, she pulled the elastic waist of his gray cotton sweats down his legs, unsheathing his cock.
“Frisky mate, you gonna make me forget all my problems?”
“Keep calling me your mate, and I’ll try.”
A satisfied rumble vibrated through Creed’s chest, and she pressed her palm against his top two abs to feel the sexy growl. He pulled her hand to his mouth and bit down gently on the flesh between her thumb and forefinger.
A shiver rattled up her spine and landed in her shoulders as he released her. Oh, she knew what his bite would do to her, and he’d never Turn her—not while she was pregnant. He sure did like to tease her with the claiming mark she’d read all about, though.
With a wicked grin, she blew softly against the head of his cock. Creed was long and thick, swollen with need, and already there was a tiny drop of moisture at the tip. She tasted it, and the second her tongue touched his skin, he rolled his hips and groaned as if he couldn’t help himself.
Her mate. Big, powerful, carefully-controlled, ever-loyal, ever-caring, dragon-blooded mate. Pride surged that he’d picked her. Not just because she’d come to him pregnant or pleaded with him. She’d been patient, and he’d chosen her because he wanted her. Because she was enough. When Gia slid her mouth over his dick, Creed hissed and gripped her hair.
“Teeth, woman.” His voice was low and gravelly—toeing the edge between human and snarling bear.
Mine, mine, mine. Creed was ruining her fun with his rules, though, so she clamped down gently around his swollen head and released him, then took him as far as her mouth would allow.
“Fuck,” he drawled in a shuddering voice. His knees drew up on either side of her, and his spine curved forward as he rolled his hips. She took him again and again until both of his hands slid into her hair.
“Don’t stop,” he said, voice strained.
Stop? Never. Gia was no quitter, and she wanted the salty taste of him to coat her throat.
His hips bucked rhythmically with each deep suck now, his ab muscles twitching and jerking as his breath came in short pants. His fingers tightened in her hair, and he pushed her down harder.
A snarl rattled his throat, louder, and he yanked her off him. Her stomach dropped as he pushed her backward. Her shoulder blades hit the cold door, and she marveled at the distance he’d just taken her in the span of a moment. He was much more powerful than he’d ever let on. Creed was on her, body pressed against her, arm locked around her waist, knee jamming her legs apart.
“Don’t want to come in that sexy mouth of yours, mate.”
His voice was gritty and edgy, and the feral tenor made her wrap her leg around his waist in desperation to be closer to him. He slid into her until their hips crashed together. The burning sensation of his thick size disappeared on his second thrust. His teeth grazed her neck, and she threw her head backward to give him better access. God, how could anything feel this good?