Chapter 8 #2
I felt my face heat as I smiled. “Okay, but I’m picking the movie.”
“Bet. What you tryna watch?”
“How Stella Got Her Groove Back.” Bishop broke out laughing. “What the hell is so funny?” I asked, already smiling.
“You.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, aight.” He smacked my ass and kept walking. “Put the damn movie on, Stella.”
I grabbed the bottle of tequila and the two shot glasses from the counter, and I followed him into the living room.
He set the bottle and glasses on the coffee table and grabbed the remote.
I sat down next to him and pulled my robe tighter around me even though I knew it wasn’t going to stay on for long.
Finding the movie on Prime Time TV, I pressed play as he poured us both another shot.
“You sure you can hang?” he asked, holding up his glass.
“I can hang,” I said, knowing damn well I was already way past my limit. I clinked my glass against his, and we both threw the shots back. The burn was familiar now, and I barely made a face.
“Aight then,” he said, setting his glass down. He stretched his arm across the back of the couch, and I leaned into him. His scent was invigorating, and his body was warm and solid. I felt myself melting into him.
The movie started, and I hadn’t watched it in years, but I still remembered every scene. Angela Bassett looked absolutely stunning, and Winston was smooth as hell. Bishop kept making comments under his breath about the scenes, and I laughed every time.
“That’s what the fuck I’m talkin’ ‘bout,” he said when Winston was on screen. “Young nigga knew what to do wit’ a grown woman.”
I slowly turned my head and looked at him. “Oh yeah?”
He caught my stare and grinned before pecking my lips. “You already know.” I rolled my eyes, but the heat creeping into my face gave me away. “Exactly,” he said with a low chuckle.
We kept watching, but I wasn’t really paying attention to the movie anymore.
I was too aware of his hand on my shoulder and the way his thumb was rubbing slow circles on my skin.
I shifted closer to him, and his hand moved down to my waist. I felt his fingers slip under the edge of my robe and touch the bare skin of my hip.
“You ain’t payin’ attention to the movie,” he whispered in my ear.
“Neither are you.”
“I’m watchin’ somethin’ better,” he said, and when I looked up at him, he was staring at me with those dark eyes that made my stomach flip.
He leaned down and kissed me, his hand tightening on my waist as he pulled me closer.
I turned toward him and straddled his lap without breaking the kiss.
I felt his already hard dick beneath me, and I rolled my hips against him.
He groaned into my mouth, and his hands slid up under my robe to grip my ass.
“You a lil’ addictive, you know that?” he murmured against my lips.
“No, your dick is,” I laughed and kissed him again. His hands were everywhere now, sliding up my back and down my sides and gripping my thighs.
His hands slid up to untie my robe and push it off my shoulders.
I wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and the cool air hit my skin.
He pulled back to look at me, and I saw the way his eyes darkened.
I felt my face get hot, but I didn’t look away.
He leaned down and kissed my neck, then my collarbone, then lower.
His mouth was on my breast and his tongue circling my nipples.
I gasped and arched into him. He sucked hard, and I felt it all the way down to my pussy.
“Bishop, please,” I pleaded for more, my hands gripping his shoulders.
“I gotchu,” he groaned, knowing exactly what I was begging for and sounding sexier than ever.
Bishop’s hands slid down to my thighs, and he lifted me off his lap.
He laid me back on the couch and knelt between my legs.
He looked up at me and grinned as he licked his lips.
He pushed my legs apart, and I braced myself, feeling his breath on my inner thigh.
His tongue licked a slow stripe up my pussy, and I moaned.
He did it again, slower this time, and I felt my toes curl as he savored every second.
“I love this pussy,” he said, his voice muffled against me.
I couldn’t respond because his tongue was doing things that made it impossible to think. He licked, sucked, and teased until I was squirming against the couch. His hands gripped my thighs and held me in place. I felt the pressure building, and I knew I was close.
“Bishop, I’m… I’m…” I panted.
“Let me have it,” he said, and his mouth closed around my clit.
I came hard, my back arching off the couch and my hands gripping the cushions. He kept licking and sucking until I was shaking and gasping for air. When he finally pulled back, his mouth and beard were wet, and he was grinning as if he had just won something.
“You good?” he asked.
“You’re way too fucking good at that shit,” I said, my voice breathless. He stood up and pulled his shirt over his head. I watched him undo his jeans and push them down along with his boxer briefs. His dick was hard as hell, veins popping, and I felt my pussy clench just looking at it.
“Put yo’ legs up,” he demanded, and I did. He lifted my legs and put them over his shoulders so he could line himself up. Plunging inside me, I gasped at the stretch and the fullness. “You aight, beautiful?” he asked, his hands gripping my thighs.
“Yesss, just fuck me.”
He started moving, and every stroke hit something deep inside me that made me see stars. I could hear how wet I was, the sound of him sliding in and out of me filling the room. It was filthy. “Mmm. You hear how wet this pussy is for me?”
“Yessss,” I moaned.
“Fuckin’ love this shit. Goddamn…” His hips slammed into me with every thrust, and my legs were shaking on his shoulders like never before.
When he reached down and rubbed my clit with his thumb, I cried out, losing my mind.
Why the fuck did this have to feel so damn good?
“That’s it,” he coached. “You know what the fuck to do.”
I came again, and I felt myself gush around him.
He groaned and kept fucking me through it.
The couch was creaking beneath us like we might break it.
I didn’t give two shits. The owners could charge me for it.
I wouldn’t care. That’s how good this dick was.
I was too far gone to care about anything except the way Bishop was making me feel.
“Fuuuccckkk… pleaseee!!!” I begged, my nails digging into his skin as I felt another orgasm hitting me. The pressure was so damn intense I couldn’t keep my eyes open.
He tapped my nipple hard with his fingers, and I gasped. He did it again, harder this time, and the sting mixed with the pleasure made my whole body jerk. “Keep them fuckin’ eyes on me,” he said, his voice rough and commanding.
I tried, but I couldn’t do it. My eyes kept rolling back. He tapped my nipple again, sharper this time, and I cried out. “Ohhh… ohhhh… shitttt!”
“I said look at me,” he growled, his hips never stopping.
I forced my eyes open and locked onto his.
He was staring down at me with so much intensity it made my pussy clench around him.
His jaw was tight, and his chest was heaving, and he looked like he was barely holding on.
“That’s it. Squeeze my dick. Let me feel it. ” His strokes got harder and deeper.
“Fuck, fuck, fuuuccckkk!!!” I screamed, my nails scratching down his arms. “Bishoppp!” I kept my eyes on his and kept clenching my pussy on his dick through my orgasm, and I watched his face change.
His mouth fell open. “Shit…” He was pounding into me so hard the sectional was sliding across the floor.
I was literally crying, moaning, and holding onto him for dear life.
He buried himself deep inside me and held me still, and his whole body started twitching.
I felt him drain inside me, hot and pulsing, and I screamed with pleasure.
My pussy was clenching around him and milking every drop, and it felt so fucking good I thought I might pass out.