Chapter 15-Rico
She says the words— we’re a family now, and we’re going to do this together —and it’s like something inside me detonates.
I’ve been begging, bleeding, clawing for her to see me, to trust me, and now she does.
My Songbird.
My wife.
My baby’s mother.
And I’m not wasting another goddamn second using words to prove what I feel for her.
Nah. Now I’m gonna use my body to show her.
I crush my mouth to hers, kissing her hard enough to bruise, my tongue thrusting deep, tasting every tear, every breath, every bit of her I’ve been starving for.
She gasps, and I swallow the sound, my hand already sliding down her back to grab a fistful of that perfect ass.
“Mine,” I growl against her lips, squeezing, grinding my cock against her thigh. “Say it, Maya. Say you’re mine.”
Her nails rake down my shoulders, her body arching into me like she can’t get close enough.
And I love it.
I love her.
“I’m yours, Rico. Always.”
That’s all I need.
I rip the tank top over her head, fling it somewhere behind me, and drag my mouth down her throat, biting, licking, leaving my mark everywhere I go.
Her tits spill into my hands, heavier now, fuller, and fuck if that doesn’t make me groan like a starving man.
“You’re so goddamn perfect, Mami,” I rasp, pinching her nipples until she cries out, then soothing with my tongue.
“These tits. Fuck, they’re gonna feed our baby, and I’m so goddamn proud of you. So amazed by what you can do.”
She whimpers, clutching at my hair as I suck one hard peak into my mouth, rolling my tongue over it while my other hand drifts down, yanking those shorts off her hips in one impatient tug.
Fuck. These outfits she wears around the house.
Tiny cotton shorts, and tight little tops that cling to her breasts and outline her baby bump. They’re so fucking hot. I don’t even let Chuy in the condo no more.
Don’t want anyone to see her like this except me. But I’m not a monster.
I don’t tell my woman what to wear. I won’t ever do that. But I will keep everyone else the fuck out.
Maya’s like sex on legs.
And no, I don’t give a fuck what the tabloids plaster across their glossy covers about what’s supposed to be sexy.
Making women think they’ve gotta starve themselves into skin and bones?
That’s not desire. That’s a scam. And fake tits, silicone asses, manufactured bodies?
Nah, that’s not for me.
I want the real thing.
Flesh. Blood. Heat.
Real curves made for a real man’s hands.
Maya.
I want Maya.
She’s one hundred percent real, and she’s everything I never knew I needed.
The way her body fits against mine, all soft and warm, drives me insane. I swear to God, it’s a fucking miracle I’m not walking around doubled over from the constant ache she puts in me.
When she’s around? My dick is hard. Painfully so.
Has been since the second I laid eyes on her again, since the moment she stepped back into my life with those big amber eyes and that sass I can’t live without.
I want her so badly I can taste it. The hunger runs deeper than my skin, deeper than my cock— it’s in my bones, my blood, my soul.
Because it’s not just about fucking her.
It’s about knowing her, being with her, possessing her, taking up permanent residence inside her heart.
Spiritually. Physically. Every damn way a man can own a woman, I need it.
“Rico,” she gasps, her voice breaking on my name, and fuck if it doesn’t light me up from the inside.
I get it. I’m right there with her. Teetering on the edge, and I’ve barely touched her.
That’s the power she has over me. Always has. Always will.
“I’ve got you,” I pant, my voice rough as I drag the thick head of my cock against her soaked slit. Teasing her. Smearing her wetness all over me like a brand.
Because that’s what this is.
A claim. A mark.
“You’re dripping for me, aren’t you, Songbird?” I growl against her ear. “Missed this dick so much, didn’t you? Tell me.”
“Yes,” she gasps, lifting her hips, shameless and needy. “God, yes.”
“Damn fucking right. Your pussy remembers who it belongs to. Your body knows its mine, doesn’t it? Now tell me whose pussy this is,” I demand, and I know I sound fucking nuts. But I can’t help it. And she must like it cause her heart is pounding and her pupils are blown wide.
“Yours, Rico. I’m yours, please.”
Her answer shreds what’s left of my restraint.
Because this isn’t just sex.
It’s a fucking religion.
And Maya?
She’s the altar I’ll worship at until the day I die.
She reaches for me. Her small hands run up my body, clutching at my shoulders, my neck, and then she’s got her fingers threaded in my short hair, sending lightning bolts of awareness zipping through me, and fuck me, that’s about all the restraint I have left.
I lose it.
I slam inside her in one brutal thrust, burying myself to the hilt.
Her scream rips through me, making my chest burn, and I curse against her mouth, fucking into her deep, hard, relentless.
Her walls clutch me, hot and wet, milking me already, and I nearly black out.
“So wet and tight. Always so fucking wet. You were made for me, Maya. For me. Nobody else.”
She sobs my name, clawing at my back, and I pound harder, driving her into the mattress, every stroke a claim, a promise, a fucking prayer.
“I’ll never let you go again. You hear me?” I bite out between thrusts. “I’ll chain you to this bed if I have to. You’re my wife, my love, my life. You and this baby—we’re forever.”
“Rico—oh God—” She shatters, trembling around me, her pussy clamping down so hard I roar, nearly undone.
I fuck her through it, kissing her, cursing her, worshiping her with every inch of me.
And when I come, it’s with a snarl against her throat, spilling deep inside her, filling her until my body shakes with the force of it.
I collapse over her, panting, drenched in sweat, but I don’t let her go.
I wrap my arms tight around her, pinning her under me, my cock still buried deep.
“Together,” I whisper against her skin, softer now, desperate in a different way. “Always together, Maya.”
And when she whispers it back, stroking my hair, I know there’s no turning back.
She’s mine.
Forever.
And it’s about fucking time.