Chapter 16 #3
“This is just for me,” I shrugged, kicking off my sneakers. “I keep this part of my life to myself. Not too many can say they’ve seen this side of me.”
She kept moving, trailing her fingers along the back of the couch, brushing against a glass console table like she was trying to feel the space as much as see it.
Watching her move around stirred something inside me. I wondered what it’d feel like to have her here all the time.
I pushed the thought down and tipped my chin toward the kitchen. “Let me show you around.”
We strolled through the house with Jasmine tossing out little comments here and there. I could tell she was impressed by the details and care I put into everything. When we got to the backyard, I showed her the pool and grill set up on the patio.
“This isn’t what I expected at all,” she said, turning to me.
“What were you expecting?” I asked.
She faced the pool, wrapping her arms around herself. “I knew you were wealthy, but this…” She waved a hand around. “I thought you’d have a flashy penthouse downtown or something, but this is some grown-man shit.”
I smiled, stepping closer. “I’m thirty-eight, Jas. I better be on some grown-man shit.”
I held out my hand. “I know I’m a little hot-headed—”
“A little?” she cut in, sliding her soft hand into mine.
“Okay, very hot-headed,” I admitted, leading her back inside. “But there’s more to me than just the nigga you’ve seen.” I gave her hand a squeeze.
“Come on, let me show you the rest.”
We headed upstairs, where more art hung on the walls, including framed photos of places I had traveled to.
“Y’all are some mama boys, huh?” she said, stopping in front of a photo of Ma and Jelani on a beach on the Amalfi Coast.
“She means everything to us,” I nodded. “If anyone deserves the world, it’s her.”
“Mhm,” she hummed. I led her further down the hall, stopping at the double doors at the end.
“This right here,” I said, pushing one open, “this is my sanctuary for real.”
Jasmine’s eyes widened as she entered the master suite.
The room was spacious, centered around a huge California king bed.
My walk-in closet and en-suite bathroom were tucked off to the side, but I knew what had caught her attention—the floor-to-ceiling windows and the balcony overlooking the backyard.
“Wow,” she murmured, stepping toward the glass.
I sat on the bench at the foot of my bed. “You know, you never answered my question earlier.”
“Which one?” she asked, turning back to me.
“Do you want to get back with Marcus?”
Jasmine sighed and leaned against my dresser. “No. I didn’t even want to go out with him forreal. I just said yes because he helped me. I know he’s down here on some bullshit, and I’m not trying to be caught up in whatever he‘s got going on.”
“But I’m also in this street shit,” I reminded her.
“Touché,” she said with a half-smile.
“So, what—you saying you like this street nigga better?”
She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Oh my God! Why are you like this?”
I stood, smirking as I closed the distance between us. My fingers hooked in the hem of her top, gently pulling her toward me. “I mean… do you?”
“Nope,” she said, popping the p with a smirk.
I bent down, placing soft kisses along her neck, trailing up to her ear. “Really?”
My hands slid over her ass, giving it a firm squeeze.
“Nuh-uh,” she breathed, gasping when I slipped my hand between her legs and started stroking her through her shorts.
"You're a terrible liar, baby girl," I murmured, grinning as she started grinding against my hand.
“Shut up,” she muttered, yanking me down by my shirt, crashing her lips into mine.
The kiss turned sloppy real fast—like we were trying to make up for every second we were away from each other. Her hands wrapped around my neck as I traced my hands up her sides, memorizing every dip and curve of her body.
A groan rumbled low in my chest as she sucked my bottom lip.
I was bricked up, my dick straining hard against my shorts.
The moment her body shifted against me, something in me snapped.
I grabbed her and backed her into the dresser hard, sending cologne bottles crashing to the floor. I didn’t give a fuck, I needed her.
I yanked her bottoms down, dragging two fingers through her wet folds.
“You already ready for me,” I murmured against her mouth.
“Cash…” she panted, pulling my shorts down and wrapping her hand around my dick.
“Fuck, baby.” My knees almost buckled, nearly giving out as she started stroking me slowly.
I lifted her onto the edge of the dresser. The wood creaked beneath her as she parted her thighs for me. More bottles tumbled to the floor as I pushed inside her slowly, inch by inch.
“Oh my God,” she gasped as her head fell back, eyes fluttering closed.
“Goddamn,” I growled as I began to thrust into her. She felt unreal—she was so tight and warm in a way that made my pulse jump. Like she was made for me.
I gripped her fleshy hips and started stroking her slowly, letting her adjust to my size. Her soft moans filled the room as she trembled around me.
“Look at me, Jas,” I said, my voice rough in her ear. “You feel what you doing to me?”
Her nails raked down my back, sending sparks up my spine. “Shit, Money. Don’t stop… please…”
The way she said that name—Money—hit different coming from her, somehow turning me on even more.
“Yeah?” I hooked one arm under her knee and drove in deeper. “You taking this dick like a champ, mama. Like you know this shit yours.”
Each stroke was a declaration—if that nigga Marcus thought he was touching her again, I’d put a bullet in his head.
“‘Cause it is,” she hissed as she wrapped her arms around my neck.
I gripped her jaw and spat in her mouth, then dragged my tongue along her throat and bit down on her neck hard enough to make her gasp.
“And this shit mine. Ain’t that right?”
“F-fuck! Yes!” she cried, locking her legs around my waist.
Her cries grew desperate as I circled her clit with my thumb. Her walls tightened around me until she shattered—damn near levitating off the dresser, back arching, legs shaking as her climax rolled through her.
“Fuuuck….” I rasped, using every ounce of willpower I had not to nut.
Jasmine sagged against me, chest rising and falling fast. I slipped my arms under her legs and lifted her off the dresser.
“Where we going?” she asked, voice hoarse, her head resting her on my shoulder.
“I’m not done with you,” I said as I carried her to my bed.
I set her down on the mattress and stepped back to take her in. Her hair was wild, lips swollen, and her skin glistened with sweat. But she was still so fucking beautiful.
“Turn around for me, baby,” I said, licking my lips. “I wanna see that ass bounce.”
She turned around and arched her back slowly. I slapped it, watching it jiggle as her pussy leaked, tempting me to lose control.
“Ain’t no other nigga ever gonna have you like this,” I murmured as I slid back in. “I’ll kill behind you.”
She met every thrust, throwing that shit back on me. “Ooh, you fucking me so good, Money…”
“That nigga wasn’t fucking you like this, was he?” I grunted, pounding her harder.
“No! Shit—right there—fuck!”
I grabbed her shoulder, pulled out, and slammed back in. “Whose pussy is this?”
“Shit,” she choked out.
I slapped her ass again. “Say it, Jas.”
“Yours, Money! It’s yours!” she screamed, voice raw.
That was it. My vision blurred as my balls tightened.
“Fuck! Fuck!” I roared as I coated her walls. I pulled out, watching our mess drip down her thighs.
Jasmine collapsed onto her back, breathing heavily.
I dipped my fingers between her legs and brought them to her lips. She licked them clean without hesitation.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her—my beautiful, nasty girl.
“You know you fucked up, right?” I grinned, pulling my fingers away to kiss her. I groaned into her mouth, tasting both of us.
She propped up on her elbows, still breathless. “How?”
“I’m never coming up off you,” I said, kissing her forehead. “We locked all the way in now, sweetheart.”