CHAPTER 10
Terra’s POV:
The morning sun didn’t just peek through my blinds; it came through like a straight-up home invasion, hitting my eyes with a bright, blinding heat that made my head throb.
I rolled over on my side, my body aching in places I didn’t even know could ache, the sheets twisted all up between my thighs.
The first thing that hit me wasn't the light, though—it was the smell.
My bedroom still smelled like burnt vanilla candles, sweet moscato, and that unmistakable, raw, heavy scent of pure, unadulterated female juice.
My juice.
The second my brain fully locked into reality, my hand instinctively slid down my stomach, my fingers disappearing under the elastic band of my shorts to press right against my underwear.
I was already dripping. Just the memory of last night—of Miley’s fingers buried three-deep inside my pussy, pinning me to the mattress while she literally tongue-fucked my clit until I sprayed the whole damn headboard—had my heart hammering against my ribs.
I had never, in my whole entire life, experienced an orgasm like that.
Dudes had been trying to make me squirt since I was nineteen years old, throwing all types of weak-ass rhythmic motions at me, and not a single one of them could ever unlock the floodgates.
But Miley? Miley handled me like she owned the trademark on my body.
I laid there for a good five minutes, my breathing getting shallow as I ran my middle finger up and down my swollen labia.
My clit was still pulsing, engorged and hyper-sensitive from the hours we spent in the shower afterward.
I wanted another taste of her. Deadass, it wasn't even a want—it was a straight-up physical dependency at this point.
I needed to feel her mouth on me, needed to taste that thick, fat, cock-like clit of hers against my lips until my jaw ached.
"Fuck it," I muttered to myself, tearing the sheets off my legs.
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, my knees still feeling a little wobbly, reminding me of how she literally dismantled my nervous system less than twelve hours ago.
I stood up, walked into the bathroom, and stared at myself in the mirror.
My lips were a little swollen, my braids were a wild, beautiful mess around my shoulders, and my skin had this crazy, post-sex glow that no amount of high-end highlighter could ever replicate.
I grabbed my toothbrush, scrubbed my mouth out real quick, and splashed some cold water on my face just to wake my senses up.
I didn't even bother putting on clothes.
I grabbed my favorite cherry-red silk robe from the back of the door, threw it over my naked shoulders, and left it completely untied.
The fabric parted down the middle, showcasing my bare breasts, my flat stomach, and the dark, curling hair of my exposed pussy.
If Miley was out there, she was gonna get this view whether she was ready for it or not.
I unlocked my bedroom door and stepped out into the hallway, the hardwood floor cool against my bare feet.
The apartment was quiet except for a faint, rhythmic thudding sound coming from the living room area.
I walked past the kitchen counter, my nose catching the scent of fresh-brewed coffee, and then I saw her.
Miley was right there in the middle of the living room, a neon-pink yoga mat rolled out right in front of the glass balcony doors.
The morning light was washing all over her dark skin, making the thin layer of sweat covering her body glisten like oil.
She was wearing a pair of tight, high-waisted grey gym leggings that hugged every single magnificent curve of her thick ass, and a matching grey sports tank top that showed off her toned shoulders.
Her white AirPods were jammed deep into her ears, her eyes locked onto the ceiling as she pulled herself up into a brutal, high-speed set of ab crunches.
One. Two. Three.
Every time she lifted her torso, her stomach muscles rippled, and the fabric of her leggings stretched tight across her crotch, giving me a perfect view of the thick, pronounced outline of her cameltoe.
She was completely locked in, breathing heavily through her nose, totally oblivious to the fact that I was standing right at the edge of the rug, watching her like a hawk watching a meal.
The sight of her all sweaty, her chest heaving as she crunched her body up and down, sent a violent jolt of pure fire straight to my womb.
My pussy literally gave a heavy, desperate throb, a fresh wave of wetness sliding down my thigh.
She looked so damn good—so dominant, so focused, so entirely out of my reach—and it made me want to completely ruin her routine.
I didn't care about her workout. I didn't care about whatever corporate schedule she had lined up for her internship at E-Tech today. I wanted to be fed.
I let out a slow, heavy breath, my long acrylic nails sliding along the silk of my robe as I sauntered over to the edge of the yoga mat.
I deliberately let the robe slide completely off my shoulders, letting it pool onto the floorboards behind me until I was standing there entirely naked, the morning air goose-bumping my skin.
Miley didn't even notice at first. She was hitting twenty-five, her face contorted in a tight, focused grimace as she pulled her head up toward her knees.
I didn't say a word. I dropped down to my hands and knees at the edge of the mat, my eyes locked onto the grey fabric covering her crotch.
I crawled up her body like a predator, my knees sliding against the rubber mat, and before she could even process what was happening, I dropped my weight right between her open legs, forcefully grabbing her inner thighs with both of my hands and shoving her knees wide apart.
Miley’s eyes flew wide open, her entire body jerking in shock as the sudden weight of my naked torso pinned her hips to the mat.
She stopped mid-crunch, her head slamming back against the floorboards with a soft thud.
She ripped the white AirPods out of her ears in one frantic motion, glaring up at me with a mixture of raw irritation and sudden, defensive heat.
"What the fuck you doing right now, Terra?" Miley snapped, her voice dropping into that sharp, authoritative Harlem register that usually made people back the fuck up. "Don’t you see a bitch is out here working out? I'm in the middle of a set!"
"Fuck all that workout shit, Miley. My pussy is hungry," I hissed back, my voice dropping low, raw, and completely dripping with hood malice.
I didn't give her a single inch to argue.
I used my knees to force her thighs even wider, driving myself completely into her space until my bare pelvis was grinding directly against the rough, sweaty fabric of her gym leggings.
I leaned down, my long box braids falling forward like a curtain around our faces, and buried my mouth straight into the side of her neck.
Miley let out a sharp, ragged gasp as my lips touched her skin.
She was completely covered in a fine sheen of sweat from her workout, and as I ran my tongue up the line of her throat, the heavy, sharp saltiness of her skin mixed with the natural heat of her body, driving my senses entirely over the edge.
It tasted completely primal—like raw effort and pure, unfiltered woman.
"Terra... look, for real, stop," Miley whined, though the sharp edge in her voice was already starting to crumble, her hips giving a involuntary, upward twitch against mine as my bare breasts rubbed against her tank top.
She let out a soft, low moan that she tried to choke back down.
"I'm all sweaty and shit, girl... let me finish my crunches. "
"I don’t give a single fuck about no sweat, Miley," I muttered against her skin, my teeth coming down in a hard, bruising nip right on her collarbone that made her arch her back. "Now stop your goddamn bitching and make me eat this coochie."
I reached my hand down swiftly between our bodies, my palm sliding over the tight, slick fabric of her grey leggings.
I didn't even have to look—my fingers found the exact junction of her thighs, pressing hard against her crotch.
The fabric was already warm, and even through the thick gym material, I could feel how swollen she was.
Her fat, cock-like clit was already pushing hard against the seam, completely engorged from the mere proximity of my naked body.
"You're already wet, bitch," I taunted, my fingers rubbing in a hard, heavy circle over her cameltoe, making the fabric squelch softly against her skin. "Why you fronting for? You know you want this tongue."
"You're an annoying-ass slut, you know that?" Miley gasped, her hands flying up to grip my shoulders, but she wasn't pushing me away anymore. Her fingers were digging deep into my skin, dragging me down closer to her.
"Shut up and take it," I whispered.
I leaned down and slammed my mouth against hers, cutting off whatever weak-ass protest she had left.
Our tongues immediately locked into a violent, wrestling match, sliding past each other's teeth with a wet, desperate hunger that picked up right where we left off last night.
I tasted the minty toothpaste from her mouth mixed with the heavy, salty heat of her lips, my tongue driving deep into her throat while my hands worked frantically at the waistband of her gym leggings.
I hooked my thumbs into the elastic of her grey pants, pulling them down past her thick hips with a rough, impatient yank.
Miley helped me, her lower body rolling up off the yoga mat as she kicked the tight fabric down her long, muscular legs until they were tangled around her ankles, leaving her completely bare from the waist down.