9. Sianni McWashington-Maddox #2
My breath came out shaky as my body slowly loosened around him, and I opened my eyes to find him watching me. Reading me. Like he already knew this moment was hitting different for me.
“Breathe,” he said low, his hand tightening on my hip.
I did, and the second I did, I felt everything. Every inch. Every shift. The weight of him. The heat. The way he filled me completely.
And I realized how much I'd missed this. How much I needed this.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “You feel so good.”
I couldn't even respond. All I could do was hold onto him as he started moving, slow and controlled at first, like he was testing how much I could take.
Then, he picked up the pace.
His hand tightened on my hip, pulling me into him with every thrust. I felt the counter digging into my back, into my thighs, but I didn't care. All I cared about was him. The way he was looking at me. The way he was moving. The way my body responded to every single thing he did.
“Kyrie—” His name fell out of me again, and I heard him curse under his breath.
“Say it again.”
“Kyrie—”
His rhythm changed. Deeper. Harder. Like he was tryna put me through this damn counter with one arm, and honestly? He was damn near succeeding.
His hand locked on my hip so tight that I already knew I'd feel it tomorrow, holding me exactly where he wanted me while he drove into me faster, harder, like he was chasing something and wasn't stopping ’til he got there.
I couldn't hold it in anymore.
My breathing turned into gasps I couldn't control, then sounds I didn't even recognize coming out of me. My legs locked around him, pulling him closer, deeper, and I felt him shudder against me.
“That's it,” he said, voice rough. “Let me hear you.”
And I did.
I couldn't stop it even if I tried. Every thrust had me gasping, moaning, gripping onto him like he was the only thing keeping me grounded.
His hand slid between us, his thumb finding that spot, and my whole body jolted.
“Oh, my God—”
“Look at me,” he said again.
I forced my eyes open, met his, and the intensity in them almost undid me right there.
“Don't look away,” he said. “I wanna see you.”
I nodded, barely able to keep my eyes open as everything in me started tightening, building, climbing toward something I couldn't stop even if I wanted to.
His rhythm didn't let up. If anything, it got more intense. More focused. Like he knew exactly where I was and was determined to push me over.
“Kyrie, I—”
“I know,” he said. “Let go.”
And I did.
Everything in me shattered at once—my body, my breath, my grip on him. I cried out, his name falling from my lips over and over as waves of pleasure rolled through me so hard I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but feel.
He didn't stop. He kept moving, kept pushing me through it, his hand still gripping my hip, his body still pressed against mine.
Then I felt him tense, heard him groan low and deep, and he buried his face in my neck as his whole body shuddered against me.
For a long moment, neither of us moved.
Just breathing. Just holding onto each other.
Then he lifted his head, his eyes meeting mine again, and he kissed me. Soft this time. Slow.
Like we had all the time in the world.
“You good?” he asked quietly.
I nodded, still catching my breath. “Yeah. I'm good.”
He smiled, just a little, and kissed me again. And for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel the need to run.
A FEW DAYS LATER…
I stepped out of the shower, and the steam followed me. Water dripped down my back while I stood there, towel in hand, staring at nothing.
Kyrie had been in my head for three days straight. I knew it was coming. We both did. The tension had been sitting between us since we first met, but I’d been the one playing games, acting like I didn’t want it.
I pulled on a pair of leggings and an oversized tee, something comfortable. The kind of outfit that said I’m not trying, even though I checked myself twice in the mirror.
Kyrie had a check-up today. His arm needed to be looked at to make sure it was healing properly, no infections, none of that. And I was the one taking him.
I grabbed my keys off the dresser and let out a slow breath before heading downstairs.
Kyrie was already down there waiting on me, looking way too damn good for no reason.
Grey Amiri sweats hung low on his hips, a black fitted tee stretched across his chest, and his curls were down around his face instead of pulled back.
Yeah… that man was fine as hell.
“Aight, I’m ready,” I said, trying to walk past him like he wasn’t sitting there distracting the hell outta me.
The second I stepped by him, his hand came down hard against my ass. A squeal slipped out before I could stop it, making his mouth twitch like he’d just won something.
Damn.
I already knew I shouldn’t have made that noise either. Kyrie loved shit like that. Fed off it.
Ever since he fucked me stupid on that kitchen counter a few days ago, he’d been acting like he lost his damn mind.
Every chance he got, he was pulling me against him, grabbing on me, whispering slick shit in my ear.
And me? I’d been dodging him on purpose because I already knew if I gave in again, that man wasn’t gon’ let up.
Once we made it outside, I helped him over to the car. Soon as I reached for the passenger door, Kyrie cut his eyes at me.
“There yo’ ass go again,” he muttered.
I laughed under my breath and opened the door anyway. “Boy, get in the car.”
He shook his head but slid inside without arguing anymore. I walked around to the driver’s side, got in, and started backing out the driveway.
“What I told you about opening doors for me like I’m handicapped or some shit?” he asked, looking over at me.
I smirked, glancing his way for a second before turning back to the road. “I don’t know. What you tell me?”
Kyrie stared at me for a beat, then slowly nodded while biting his bottom lip. I could tell he wanted to say something slick so bad, but for once, he kept it to himself.
The ride to the doctor’s office got quiet after that. Not awkward quiet either. Just one of those heavy silences where you could hear the air running and both of us breathing.
When I pulled into the parking lot, Kyrie looked over at me before I could even put the car in park.
“Don’t open this damn door for me.”
The smirk spread across my lips before I could help it. I cut the engine off, climbed out, then walked right around to his side anyway.
When I opened the passenger door, Kyrie looked up at me with this expression on his face that I couldn’t fully read. Amused. Irritated. Turned on. Probably all three.
“Yo’ ass don’t listen, do you?” he asked, shaking his head while he got out.
“I do listen,” I replied sweetly.
“Nawl, the hell you don’t.” His eyes dragged slowly over me before he licked his lips. “But keep fuckin’ with me if you want to. I’m gon’ fuck yo’ lil’ ass up.”
The heat that rushed through me was instant, but I refused to let him see it.
“Oh, whatever,” I shot back, shutting the car door behind him. “You ain’t gon’ do shit.”
Kyrie looked down at me and grinned slow and dangerous.
“Keep thinkin’ that.”
I didn’t say anything else to him. I just flipped my hair over my shoulder and walked right past him like he wasn’t getting under my skin.
Behind me, Kyrie laughed low, and the sound alone made heat crawl up my neck.
Yeah, he was definitely enjoying himself.
I rolled my eyes and pushed the door open, then paused long enough for him to catch up so we could get this damn appointment over with and finally grab something to eat.