Chapter 11 Hrs & Hrs #2
I don’t think Miss lady can manage him while him upse— “Weh yuh a run go?” his grip snakes my wrist. My eyes travel up to his. Slowly. A guilty smile spreads across my face.
“Uh… I’m… just getting this,” I scrubbed my brain for that answer.
“Zara,” he sighs.
“Babeee anuh nutt’n,” I reach up to press my palm against his face.
“Yuh a move like yuh fraid a mi,” he tilts his head. The mere fact is like a jab in his heart. His brows pulling closer.
I swallow. “Not you… that,” I drop my eyes down. He looks down too, a goofy smile playing on his lips.
“Oh?” he pulls his bottom lip into his mouth. Watching me too closely. My thighs tighten on instinct.
The heat is pulsing now, not just in my body, but under my skin, behind my eyes. It’s too much. I turn away and reach for the shower sprayer, just to ground myself. Something to do with my hands.
I don’t even hear him move. But suddenly, his fingers are in my hair, not hard, not gentle either. Just firm. Possessive. He twists my head back toward him, the bathroom spinning behind my eyes. Weh mi shower cap gone?
“Zara,” he says, voice low, like he’s coaxing me out of hiding. “Come outta yuh head and gimme it instead.”
I don’t say a word. I smile, small and unsure, even though my chest is tight and everything inside me is wound up like a wire. He stays calm. Of course he does. Like he’s figured me out already. Like he knows he’s the fire, and I’m the girl learning how to stop flinching from heat.
I breathe in sharp. My voice comes out broken. “Stop looking at me like that.” But he doesn’t. He just tilts his head slightly and drinks me in. He doesn’t blink.
“You tense,” he says, folding his arms, eyes dragging down my body. “Yuh don’t even know how pretty you look when you nervous.”
“I’m not—” My voice cracks. He smiles, but it’s a quiet one. Not for show. Like he’s already in my thoughts, reading the sentences before I form them.
“This is interesting,” he murmurs.
“What’s int—” he presses his thumb against my lips, shutting me up without needing to say a word.
“Feel like mi can read yuh now,” he says softly. “Go ahead. Please yuhself. I’ll watch.”
I freeze. “No,” I whisper, but my voice betrays me. It sounds like the beginning of a yes.
He doesn’t call me out. Doesn’t rush me. That’s the thing with him. He waits.
“Yuh like when me take control.” His tone is smooth.. “It turn yuh on… being told what to do.”
I shake my head, uselessly. “N-no.”
He steps in, close enough that I feel the heat rolling off him. “Weh a yuh wait pan, Mami?”
“I don’t want to touch myself…” I say.
But it’s too soft. A whisper of a lie. He chuckles, deep and rich. I feel it in my stomach. “Tell me what you want.”
I blink fast. “Why you staring at me like that?”
He backs up just a little, enough for me to miss the weight of his presence. I reach for him on impulse. “Okay,” I admit. “I’m lying.”
He raises a brow, waiting. “I want to. I want you to watch me.”
He nods once. That’s all. I slide my hand slowly from my shoulder, down the curve of my waist. I try not to look at him, but he lifts my chin again. My gaze meets his, and it anchors me.
“You want music?” he asks, casually. Like this is normal. Like I’m not about to fall apart in front of him.
I shake my head, breath uneven. “Just… keep looking at me.”
My fingers find their way between my thighs.
I’m nervous, shaking slightly but the look in his eyes keeps me grounded.
Keeps me brave. There’s no judgment there.
Just something deep. Curious. Maybe even proud.
I part my legs. Just a little. The cool air hits me and I suck in a breath.
I slide one finger in. It’s not smooth, it stings a little but I push through it.
The almond nails too sharp, I bite the nail off my index finger. I hear him exhale, brows raised up.
My moans are quiet at first. Controlled. But they slip out anyway. He looks down once. Just once. But it’s enough to make me clench. “Don’t…” I gasp. “Don’t look away.”
He’s back instantly. Eye contact locked. Then he moves in, hands rubbing slow circles on my thighs. His touch is warm. Big. Comforting. Like he’s grounding me, holding me while I come undone.
“When you look at me… ” I whisper, “I feel like you control what I feel. Like… the more you look, the closer I get. When you look away… it fades.” He leans in.
Just enough for his breath to hit my cheek.
I feel so seen I almost flinch. I lower myself to the floor, legs spreading further, instinct taking over.
My back arches, hips tilt. He presses his fingers gently on top of mine.
The added pressure makes everything snap.
It hits me. Hard. And then his lips are on my neck, soft, calculated.
Right at the place that makes my toes curl.
My veins hum. My thighs tremble. I shudder, gasping his name like a broken chant.
“N-Nick… Nick… Nickoiii—”
My body tightens. Liquid heat flows down the back of my thighs. I cry out, high-pitched, not caring who hears. His name comes out in pieces. I feel my walls spasm around my fingers. I see stars.
I lose control and he’s right there. “See?” he murmurs, lips against my ear.
“You release all the tension… and mi never had to do a thing… so now yuh nuh that dependent.” His voice sends another rush through me. I’m trembling. And I’m in love with him, in this moment, in this silence, in his restraint.
I reach for him without thinking, my fingers curling around his dick.
He’s already hard. Heavy. So warm it makes my breath catch.
He doesn’t say a word, but his jaw clenches just slightly and I know it’s working.
His chest barely moves, but I feel the tension rippling under his calm.
He’s trying not to show how good this feels.
Which only makes me want to push further.
I look up at him through my lashes, and then down, to the swollen tip of him.
He’s leaking already. A clear bead glistens at the crown, catching the light, slick and tempting.
I lean forward, tongue peeking out to taste it.
I lick the precum up slow, let it coat my tongue like syrup, my eyes never leaving his.
His breath hitches again, this time sharper.
Still silent, but I see the twitch in his brow, the only giveaway he’s not as unbothered as he’s pretending to be.
I kiss the head, softly. A tease. His eyes narrow, his lips part just slightly, like he’s holding something back.
Something primal. Then I open my mouth wider, and take him in.
It’s not perfect at first, he’s thick, and the stretch is deep, but I breathe through it.
My tongue flattens underneath him, mouth adjusting to his size.
I moan around him without meaning to. The sound vibrates up his shaft and his hand flexes at his side.
Still, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t force anything. Just watches.
That’s what wrecks me the most. The way he lets me do this. On my own time. On my own terms. But the power? Still his.
I find a rhythm slow, steady, deliberate.
My lips seal around him, my head bobs gently, tongue swirling with every pull.
He’s so warm in my mouth, pulsing against the roof, thick and perfect and mine right now.
He finally moves, just his hand brushing my hair back from my face with a care that almost makes my knees buckle.
It’s a silent kind of praise. A quiet claim.
“You learning,” he murmurs, voice low and gravel-rich. “Quick, too.”
He taught me. That’s the craziest part, now I’m trying to impress him. I hum in response, and he groans, deep and slow. The sound floods my stomach with heat. I want more of that. I suck harder, take him deeper. Let him slide down my throat just enough for my eyes to sting. I don’t care.
He tastes like control. Like sin. Like a man who knows what he has and who he’s giving it to.
I pull back with a pop, licking up the side of him.
Then I kiss my way back to the top, another drop of precum waiting for me.
I catch it again, this time dragging my tongue over the slit with just enough pressure to make his knees shift.
His voice is strained now. “Zaraaa.” My name, coming from his mouth, sounds like it means something more than just who I am.
I take him again, deeper this time, letting him hit the back of my throat before pulling back and stroking the rest with my hand.
My other hand trails along his thigh, nails scratching lightly.
He sucks in air between his teeth, finally breaking.
His hips twitch, just once. His control cracks.
His body’s telling on him now. I know what’s coming.
He stiffens, thighs locking, abs tightening and I don’t stop.
I want all of it. The first pulse hits the back of my throat, hot and thick.
Then more. A slow, steady spill. I swallow it down, every drop.
I close my eyes for a moment and breathe him in, savor him.
His taste, the sound of his groan, the quiet storm in his body as he comes undone in mine.
When I pull away, he’s still staring, focused, but softened in the edges now.
I lick my lips slowly, tasting the salt, letting the moment stretch between us.
He crouches down, one hand under my chin, his thumb brushing just below my lip.“Yuh love dat?” he asks, low and serious.
I nod, slow. My legs still shaky, my heart trying to find its rhythm again.We start showering again.
We need to. He’s using one hand held shower spray and I’m using the other one on the other side.
He gets out before me. I stay back to do my skincare, blushing and taking breaks each time a flashback hits me.