Chapter 11 Hrs & Hrs #3
The moment I got in our room, he’s seated on the bed in a Lv shorts, no shirt, showing off his muscles and tats and his favorite kappa slides.
My eyes flies to the glass rails. I think it’s my hormones, when an image of me being bent over in front of the rails flashes in my brain.
I fight the urge and pull my draw, reaching for a lace panty.
“Can I tell you suh’m?” I turn, no longer reaching for the panties.
The moment I stand in front of him, naked, his eyes darkens. My hips curvy, breast firm, I know I’m sexy, that’s why I’m standing in front of him like this. Lust dripping from his eyes. He just had me in five sex positions just by his stare alone.
“Wah you want say to me?” he tilts his head back.
I cross my thighs. That gets him.
I climb onto his lap, straddling him slowly, eyes locked.
He watches me the whole time, barely blinking.
I press my palms against his chest and push him back firm, not asking.
His back hits the silk sheets with a soft thud, muscles rippling beneath my hands.
I dip my face into the warmth of his neck, lips brushing his skin.
“I want you to take me on the balcony,” I whisper, breath shaky. “Bend me over. Make me scream loud enough for the whole world to hear. Can… I have that?” He grins slowly, like danger.
“Anything yuh want… yuh get, Mami,” he murmurs, voice thick and possessive. One arm wraps around my waist, pulling me closer. The other comes down hard on my ass cheek, the slap echoing through the room. “Who fa world?”
“My world,” I breathe into his ear.
My words make me pulse, deep and rhythmic.
He sits up, hands firm on my sides, lifting me with ease.
I hold the back of his head, kissing him slow, tongue soft, lips heavy with need, as he carries us out to the balcony.
The air is cooler out here, but my skin stays hot.
My feet hit the cold marble, and he sets me down gently.
“Stand up,” he says, his voice gone serious.
I obey. No questions.
“Hold the rail.” I step forward and grip the cool metal. My almond-shaped nails dig in slightly, anticipation rushing in.
“Bend over,” he says behind me, voice low and certain. “Spread yuh legs.”
I arch. Just enough. I know that he likes this angle, the curve of my back. My eyes lock on the view: the infinity pool glowing below, security posts tucked in shadows to the left, city lights dancing in the distance.
And then I feel him.
His hands palm my cheeks, spreading them wide, and his fingers part me slow, patient.
I hold my breath as he lines up with my center, and then he enters.
He doesn’t ease in. He claims me. My muscles tighten around him, and he sinks deeper, until he brushes the place that makes my breath catch every time.
“Y-yes…” I moan, my head lolling to the side, hair spilling to the floor.
He grips my hips, wide and firm, then leans down and sucks the side of my neck hard, marking me, grinding deep against my G-spot like he’s trying to imprint himself into my soul.
He’s not just f***ing me. He’s letting off steam.
This isn’t soft. This isn’t slow. This is him using my body like it’s the only thing anchoring him from rage.
His thrusts are sharp, deliberate like he’s still fighting something.
I can’t hold it back. I curse under my breath, orgasm snapping through me like lightning, knees threatening to buckle. My vision blurs. I can’t even see him, but I know, I know his face is twisted in pleasure. He’s in his zone. Losing himself in mine.
Another slap. Loud. Rough. I turn to look back at him, and his eyes are closed brows furrowed, lips parted, face locked in ecstasy.
His abs flex with each stroke, his grip on my hips tightening as he pounds into me like he’s chasing something.
My thighs shake against the railing. The glass groans under us, and I pray it holds.
The way he’s moving… it’s like he’s trying to shatter everything in his path except me.
Then he stills. Buried deep. Not pulling out.
And God… that pause wrecks me. The stillness, the stretch, the tension.
I feel the next climax rising fast, like it’s being summoned.
He stays frozen for a second too long, and my body tightens around him, close to the edge. And right as I hit the brink—
He starts again.
Pounding unapologetically.
“Nickoi!” I cry out, my voice echoing off the walls, off the city, off the night.
I grip the rail tighter as he picks up pace, his hand reaching back to grab both my arms and pin them behind me. He doesn’t stop. The rhythm is ruthless. Perfect. Deep. Intentional. Until, my climax hits like a wave knocking me off my feet.
I collapse.
My legs give out. Arms trembling. Chest heaving. The marble against my knees. I can barely think. Barely breathe.
He holds me from behind, chest pressed to my back, breath warm against my shoulder. “You good?” he whispers.
I nod, weak, dazed. He kisses my spine. The back of my neck, then I turn to face him. He leans in, and presses his forehead to mine. “Yav’ mi heart.”
As he sits on the lounge chair, he wraps his arms around me, eyes trailing down my body, but I tuck myself into his chest, face pressed against his warmth. I listen to his heartbeat, tracing the ink along his skin with gentle fingers, grounding myself.
“Yuh good, Mami?” he asks, voice huskier than I’ve ever heard it.
Awww, Nickoi.
I look up at him, smiling hard despite the ache between my legs. “I’m good… just sore.”
He leans in again, pressing a kiss to my forehead. Then he does it again.
I melt. He looks down at me, his smirk creeping in. “Mi wah try suh’m new wid yuh.”
Wah dat now?
I start blushing. “And what’s that?” I ask, stepping into the room behind him, then as he slips on his robe. He passes me mine, it’s black, matching his. Ugh. Men and their little plans.
He opens a door and glances at me over his shoulder, grinning. “Yuh feel sore… yuh forget say we have a Jacuzzi?”
I shake my head, smile growing. I walk over to him, ignoring the soreness in my thighs, trying not to limp. He’s already setting everything up, moving with that quiet energy that always makes me watch him.
While he works, my mind drifts to one thing. Liquor.
Doh even talk ’bout liquor!
“This is a good idea enuh, but the only thing is… mi nah go can drink,” I pout, looking at him.
He furrows his brows. “Mi mean like champagne,” I add, quickly.
He grins. “Mi buy sparkling wine fi yuh. It nah go harm the baby.”
I light up. “Yuh sure?” I ask.
He nods, confident. “It nuh have much alcohol. And yuh only a drink it once, cause mi nah mek yuh drink again till yuh have mi youth.”
“Okay Mr. Jacobs.” I grin, biting my lip. He bites his in return, clearly liking the sound of that.
“So what you having? The usual?” I ask, changing the subject.
He smirks. “Henny, of course.”
He chuckles and walks off. “Mi a go get them and fawud. Yuh can gwan do yuh thing.” Once he’s gone, I slip out of the robe, wince slightly, and step into the Jacuzzi. The warm water wraps around me like a hug, easing the soreness from earlier.
Nobody cyaa brite and seh yuh nah live good.
He returns moments later, placing two bottles in the holder, one Hennessy, one sparkling wine.
He sets two glasses down before he gets in and pull me against him.
I relax, head on his chest. His arms are around me, hands resting on my breast, his thumb strokes gently, not sexual, just…
him. Ever since I moved in, that’s how he is.
Every morning. Every night. Hand tucked in my bra’ like it’s part of his breathing.
I glance down at his wrist that weird ring he always wore glinting under the soft lights, then my stomach, my thoughts drift.
Soon you’ll be here with Mommy and Daddy. I smile. I can’t wait to meet you.
Nickoi’s sipping his Hennessy with one hand, still palming me with the other. I look at him, focused and silent. Present, but somewhere in his mind too.
“Daddy?” I tease. He looks at me sideways.
“What kinda baby yuh think mi a have?” I ask.
“Boy.” I knew he would say that.
I laugh. “It’s gonna be a girl though, just watch.”
He chuckles and takes another sip, eyes closing. I study his face, the slope of his nose, the fullness of his lips, the quiet structure that makes him effortlessly fine. “Stop look pan man,” he says, eyes still closed.
I laugh. “Can’t take yuh enuh.”
“What did you wanna be when you were little?” I ask. The shift is instant. His expression darkens, subtle but real. Like mi touch pan something him nuh like.
“Never really have a childhood fi think like dat,” he says, eyes low. “Dem time deh, mi did just wah learn the ropes of the business. Know how fi fire the guns.” I sigh. My heart tightens. I hate how they robbed him of innocence.
“Why yuh father bring yuh inna dis life… Yuh neva ask fi it,” I hiss.
“We nuh get wah we want in life,” he replies. “And if we do, it nuh stay long.”
Wah him a talk ‘bout now?
“What you trying to say?” I ask, voice quiet.
He doesn’t answer. “A neva me yuh want? A nuh me yuh get and a nuh me still deh yah?” I ask, attitude bubbling.
He’s still silent. The mood crashes. The warmth of the moment gone. He’s just swirling the Henny in his glass, eyes ice cold. Detached. Swear mi hate this about him.
“What?” I whisper.
He finally speaks. “Wah yuh woulda do if yuh deh yah and yuh get a call say mi dead?”
My heart drops. His voice. His face. The aura… it’s scary. “Why yuh a talk to me like this?” I ask, tears threatening, my voice cracking under the weight of fear.
“This mi a meds enuh…” he says, tone still calm.
“Everything feel like fairytale to yuh. Yeah, mi love yuh. Mi woulda love fi do dis wid yuh every day. But yuh caught up in it like yuh think things a go always sweet. So mi a meds say… wah she woulda do if, mi nuh say it a go happen. Mi just wah know weh yuh headspace deh. Cause dem thing yah come wid the game.”
“So you wah mi prepare fi it?” I ask, voice shaking. He nods slowly.
“Not really prepare… just keep it in yuh mind. Cause mi know yuh nah meds dem thing yah.”
Fresh tears pour down my cheeks. “Y-you a talk like mi fi just prepare fi something happen to yuh when mi have a baby fi yuh… M-mi never plan fi be a single mom. So stop talk to me like that,” I sob, wiping my face. “And I also don’t see myself living if you’re not around.”
He sits up a little straighter. “Nah say dat man. Mi just nuh wah yuh walk round in a bubble like life sweet when yuh deh wid a drugs lawd. Das all mi a say. Mi a live careful. Mi a try play the cards right. Mi want deh yah fi mi family.” His voice is grounded.
Even through tears, I smile. He pours me the sparkling wine, and I take it gently, kissing his cheek over and over before wiping my tears.
“I love you,” I whisper.
After a while, he gets out of the water, robe on, Henny cup in his hand. He sits in the chair nearby, staring. I sip the wine, watching him. He’s so intense without trying. Even when he’s just sitting still.
“Take my picture, babe,” I say. He smirks, grabs his phone. I strike the easiest Jacuzzi pose I can think of, staying still. When he’s done, I scroll through them and stop at my favorite.
“Babymother,” he says proudly. I turn to look at him with a smile. His tone says everything. This man treats me like a trophy. “I mean… wifey.” Ouuu.
“Huzzi,” I say, biting my lip, batting my lashes.
“Yuh love me?” he sits up, eyes locked on me. His stare makes my heart skip. I sip the wine again.
Whew. Well… that’s hot.
He stands. Walks toward me. Puts his hand around my throat, and my eyes flutter closed instinctively. Just as the thought hits me, I feel his lips warm, soft melting into mine. Electric. Like the kiss knows where I ache most.
I hold his face, feeling his tongue slide across mine. I part my lips, welcoming him in. “Nickoi,” I breathe, and under the water, his hand grazes the inside of my thighs.
I already know where this is going. And it makes me tremble.
His mouth moves to my neck, lightly sucking my skin. Fire blooms across my chest. “As mi tell yuh before… yav mi heart.”