Chapter 16
1 1:54
Sunny stared at the mirror, smiling at her own reflection, her heart fluttering. She hadn’t felt this alive in years.
She’d decided to wear a swim coverup, knowing good and well it wasn’t covering anything; she was panty and braless again, figuring they had no time to waste. She checked, then double-checked all angles to make sure the light didn’t expose her through the thin fabric.
Perfect.
Her hands trembled slightly as she spritzed perfume on her collarbone—gourmand, because she wanted to look and smell like a snack. She took a slow, steadying breath, then padded barefoot toward the door.
Before she could reach the knob, the door burst open with a bang, sending Sunny a foot in the air.
“What the hell are you doing?” she whisper-yelled at Orion.
He stepped inside like he owned the joint and had the nerve to be wearing a silk robe.
“We need to talk,” he slurred.
“No we don’t.” Her voice was soft, but firm. “Go to bed, Ry. Sleep it off.”
“I ain’t leavin’. Not ‘til we talk.”
She crossed her arms, planting her feet firmly on the rug. “Fine. Say what you have to say.”
And make it quick , she thought. She had penis waiting for her in the casita.
“I miss you.” He sat at the foot of the bed, swaying a little as he straightened his robe. “I know I fucked up, but I miss the hell outta you, Sunny.”
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
“Our family could be…a family again.”
“You’re drunk,” she said.
“I ain’t that drunk.” His voice lowered. “I think I might end things with Fallon.”
She recoiled like he’d just slapped her across the face. The first six months after they split were spent wishing she could hear those words, preceded by a genuine apology. But Orion never bothered. He didn’t think he had anything to apologize for. At a certain point, Sunny realized there was no going back, and she put all of her energy into healing and moving the hell on.
So these words coming out of his mouth at this moment sounded more like a fuck you than a declaration of love.
“It’s true,” he said, watching her carefully. “I don’t know if I’m ready to give up on us.”
She scoffed at the audacity.
Sunny wanted to leave it alone. She was already late to her dick appointment. But her anger continued to bloom, driving her to push back.
“Bullshit,” she said. “The only reason you’re saying this is because your son handed you your ass a few hours ago.”
“Whatever, Sunny.”
“Admit it! You don’t want me back. You want your image back. The family man. The loving husband, the proud and doting father. You want the Instagram life without doing the fucking work, but that’s not how it goes.” She stopped to catch her breath, her eyes filling with tears. “I’m done smiling for the Gram so you can look like you have a happy family.”
Because that’s what she’d done, even after she found out about Fallon. They even took Christmas pictures in matching pajamas. Looked perfect. Hundreds of comments about their beautiful family. Meanwhile, Sunny was depressed and miserable, and her husband didn’t give a single fuck.
“That ship has sailed,” she said as she walked away from him toward the door. “And you sank it.”
Orion flinched like she’d dealt him a physical blow.
She opened the door and pointed to the hallway. “I’m going to bed. You need to do the same.”
His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.
“You fuckin’ around with somebody?”
She didn’t answer. She no longer had to answer those questions. She simply stared at him until he muttered a curse and staggered out into the hallway.
Now, she was late.
She waited a few minutes before she tiptoed out of her room, her body buzzing with adrenaline and lust as she moved through the quiet villa and out toward the path behind the main house.
The casita was cloaked in shadow, which was fitting given the fact that they were meeting in secret. Moonlight spilled across her path, illuminating tendrils of smoke from the dying bonfire down on the beach.
Mark was already inside when she slipped through the door, shirtless and fine and laying in the bed.
“I see you didn’t waste any time,” she teased as she slipped her sandals off.
“Time is a finite resource." He watched her slide the strap of her coverup down her shoulder. “But you can slow that down for me.”
He propped an arm under his head, his lips curving into a slow, sneaky smile as she slowed her movements.
She played the coquette beautifully, gliding the fabric over her thighs, revealing inch after inch of deep brown skin. His mouth went dry at the sight. His heart thudded dangerously. The thin blue duvet rose inconspicuously, his erection forming a tent that made her smile wickedly.
When she finally pulled her coverup over her head, unveiling her nakedness, he devoured her with his gaze, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.
“Damn.”
It was all he could manage to say, yet it was exactly what she wanted to hear.
“Bring all that over here,” he rasped, his voice rough with want.
She glided toward the bed effortlessly, gracefully, fluidly. Like a gazelle , he thought. Perfection.
And he would know. He created perfection every day with a scalpel in his hands. But he was just a man with a skill, not a god. Looking at Cici, he appreciated the work God had done on her. Yes indeed, He took his time when he sculpted those curves, when he fashioned every delicate line. The tempting swell of her breasts. The dip at her waist. The thickness of her thighs. God made a masterpiece, and Mark felt like a sinner gazing upon such sacred work. His fingers itched to touch her. To claim her. To ruin the pristine beauty in front of him.
Yes, ruin .
Not a word he would have chosen in his right mind, but that was the thing about Cici. She could drive a man mad.
Her ex-husband proved that earlier this evening.
She climbed onto the bed, sliding into the space Mark created for her with a lift of his hand on the covers. Snuggling up against him felt so natural, she almost forgot how dangerous it was. His hand slid down the curve of her hip, slow and possessive, making her shiver. His bare chest was warm against her breasts, his breath hot against her neck. She could feel his hard length pressing insistently against her hip, making promises with his body that his mouth hadn't spoken yet.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. His hand went to her cheek. They shared a loving gaze, but just for a moment.
“I need to ask you something,” he said quietly.
Sunny didn’t mean to, but she did. She dropped her gaze to his dick.
He laughed, a good sport about it. “It’ll still be there when we’re done talking. I’m older, but I ain’t that old.”
“No, I—“ she burst out laughing. “Aging is a bitch, ain’t it? Nobody told us.”
“You’re only as old as you feel inside,” he said. “But yeah, it’s a bitch.” His eyes shifted up. “Do you color your grays?”
“Of course.”
“Why of course?”
“Vanity,” Sunny said. “I’m pretty sure you’re familiar with the concept, Dr. Bennett.”
He chuckled. “These bodies of ours, they’re just outer shells.”
“But you’ve made a living altering outer shells.”
He shrugged. “I give the people what they want.”
“There’s nothing wrong with it. I’m just surprised a plastic surgeon has such conservative views on aging.”
“Probably because I know how superficial it all is. I’m part of the problem, yeah, but I still get philosophical every now and then.”
She smiled. “I like when you get philosophical.” She kissed his lips, soft and sweet. “Oh. What did you wanna ask me?”
His face relaxed into a serious expression. “Are you still involved with him?”
Her breath caught. “Him?”
“Your ex-husband.” His gaze sharpened. “He’s been in your face all night. At one point, he had his hands on you. He acts like you still belong to him. So I’m asking this now, before I get in too deep.”
She opened her mouth, but he cut her off, his voice quieter now.
“Are you still getting over him?”
Sunny hesitated a bit too long.
“It’s cool,” he said, forcing a smile. “Y’all were together a long time. Feelings don’t just evaporate.”
“I’m over him, Kez.”
He studied her face. “You still sleeping with him?”
Something about that question pricked Sunny. She could tell him the truth—that she’d had a moment of weakness the other night. And many nights prior—but what good would it do? It meant nothing.
Besides…she didn’t owe Kez anything. Not yet.
“No,” she said softly, steadying her voice. “I’m not sleeping with him.”
He blew out a breath, his lips curving into a slight smile. “You make me feel things I thought I outgrew.”
“Such as?”
His hands gripped her waist. “Jealousy. Possessiveness. All that ugly shit that used to get me in trouble.”
That.
That’s what pricked Sunny.
“You mean like the time you punched that guy out in the quad for asking for my phone number?”
He chuckled, low and rough. “He put his hands on you. It was instinct.”
“He grabbed my wrist, Kez. Let’s have some perspective here. You almost broke the boy’s nose.”
“I should have. Jaw, too.”
Sunny laughed, the sound soft and melodic. “That might have been cute back then, but it’s not at our age. At all.”
“I agree,” he said quickly. “But like I said…you make me feel things.”
She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “You’re still a caveman.”
“And my dick is still hard,” he retorted. “Whatchu gon’ do with it, Cici?”
She smiled, moving a hand under the covers to see for herself. “So we’re done talking?”
“We can still talk. You know me.”
She certainly did.
Sunny swung her leg over him as she thought back to the few times they’d made love. Kez whispering filth in her ear. Reassuring her. Comforting her.
The man didn’t mince words.
His eyes followed the sway of her breasts as she got into position, her thighs straddling his hips, her skin warm and silky against his. For a moment, she hovered, staring at his face while her fingertips trailed lightly down his chest. His muscles tensed under her soft touch, while his hands instinctively settled on her hips.
She lowered herself onto him in one slow, agonizingly pleasurable slide. They both gasped at the connection. His hands gripped her tighter. Hers flattened against his chest. She felt the powerful thud of his heart against her palms, a beat that seemed to match the thumping in her clit.
Slow and sensual was the pace she set, rolling her hips in a way that forced whispered curses from Mark’s lips. She’d learned a lot in the years since they’d seen each other. She wasn’t just bolder, she was sexier. More confident. More knowledgeable in the art of pleasure. More womanly. Just… more .
He blinked slowly, his eyes locked on hers. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he rasped as his hands slid up to cup her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples until she shuddered. “I need this. Every day.”
“Mmmmm….” She moaned. “Need what?” He grimaced as she arched into his touch, her head tipping back as pleasure consumed her.
“I need this pussy,” he said. “Every day.”
He thrust into her from below, matching her cadence, creating a delicious push and pull between them.
“I’d be a happy man if I could come home to this,” he groaned. “Your pretty pussy waiting on me at the door.”
Their bodies moved in a perfect, sinful rhythm, skin against skin, breathless gasps filling the small room. His hands moved to her ass, guiding her to undulate harder against him, needing the friction. Craving it. Overdosing on it.
“So fucking wet,” he murmured, escalating to a moan when she tightened around him in response. “You gripping the hell outta my dick, you know that?”
Her head was back. Eyes closed. Lips parted. When she didn’t respond, Mark squeezed the flesh at her hips.
“Nah. You gotta look at me while you ride this dick.”
Still no response.
Mark tightened his grip on her hips and flipped them over as she gasped for breath and held onto his back for dear life.
“Open your eyes.”
She listened this time, but he almost wished she hadn’t. As soon as those eyes locked on his, heat simmered through his veins, his dick pulsing deep inside her as he fought to maintain control.
“I wanna hear my name when you cum.”
She smiled, breathless as she said, “Bold of you to assume I’m gonna cum.”
He slowed his strokes, settling into a leisurely pace. Her teasing didn’t bother him, but he did feel like he had something to prove. He, too, had evolved. Learned. Improved.
He, too, was more .
“You’re ‘bout to cum right now,” he said. “You think I can’t feel that?”
Her eyes rolled back, but she forced herself to stay focused on his face.
“Good girl.”
“Feel what?” she asked, panting.
“The tremors in your walls.” He kissed the tip of her nose, thrusting harder. “That grip got tighter. Pussy got wetter. The way you keep holding your breath.”
She gasped as he pounded deeper.
“I’ll show you,” he murmured. “Gimme your tongue.”
She didn’t stand a chance against his kisses. They’d always been her weakness. Her undoing. All the begging Kez did to get her to give herself to him junior year wound up being completely useless. It was the kisses that swayed her.
She stuck out her tongue. He sucked it into his mouth. He kissed her hard. He kissed her deep. He lifted her leg, hooked it over his arm, and plunged nut deep into her pussy. After just a few soft strokes of his tongue and rough strokes of his dick, she exploded, wailing into his mouth, her body shaking relentlessly.
Mark broke the kiss, eager to see her face, needing to know what she looked like cumming on his dick.
“Kez…oh my God. Yessss…”
Another momentous occasion.
And she looked, well, fucking delicious. She felt even better. And with his job done, for now, he released her leg, kissing down her jaw as she came back down to earth.
“I’m gonna pull out,” he murmured. “Tell me where you want it.”
“Where do you want it?”
On your gorgeous face. On your perfect nipples. Between your pretty toes. In your fat ass. On that cute little birthmark on your back that’s shaped like a butterfly. Is that still there? I’ll find out soon enough.
But all he said was, “I got you.”
He luxuriated inside of her for a few more minutes, relishing his slow, slippery slides in and out, her quiet purrs, the way his nut was rising to an exquisite peak. Everything about this moment with her was mind-blowing. If this was what his subconscious had in mind when it whispered the word ruin in his ear, then he was willing to let it be so. Destruction had never felt so good or tasted so sweet. He’d burn it all down for her. For this.
“Fuck…” his strokes stuttered. “I’m cumming, baby. I’m—“
There it was.
He pulled out just in time, shooting his hot, sticky release onto her stomach, the safest place he could think of in his altered state. She reached down between them, replacing his hand with hers, milking his dick in her direction as if to force more cum out and onto her body, prolonging his release in a way that pleased and surprised him.
Is my little Cici a cum slut?
He collapsed onto his back beside her, promising himself he’d make time to find that out before the weekend was over.