Chapter 39 Decision #2
“It’s what’s best for her. And Mommy done make her decision.”
“Don’t be down bout it, Mami. Member mi can always mek yuh visit. Plus this is about her safety.”
“Mi know.” She’s still looking sad, I cup her breast—nothing. Try harder. My hand slides down to grab her ass, then wraps around her waist, pulling her close. Her neck’s the weak spot. I circle my hand there, forcing her eyes to meet mine. Lust darkens her gaze. The air between us thickens.
I pull her closer to the edge of the bed and whisper, “You a go mek noise?” In her ear. Her grandma downstairs.
“Yeah… uh, no,” she murmurs, and we laugh. I tug her shorts down, smirking.
“Weh yuh panty deh?”
“I don’t like panties…” she breathes, sliding her fingers to her entrance, lip sink into her mouth as she caress her clit.
“Come nuh…” she begs, fingers now pumping fast, too fast. I smirk, noticing her index broken nail digging in.
The others are pretty much how the nail tech did them.
She lifts her right leg, hand gripping her ankle, hips squirming like she can’t handle the pleasure she’s giving herself.
“Shhhiiit… ahh… it feels so good.” It slips from her lips soft, breathless, her brows drawn, eyes half-lidded, mouth open like she needs saving.
My dick jumps. No warning, just pressure, thick and bent against my boxers.
I adjust my stance, jaw clenched as I watch her.
My torso tenses. She doesn’t even realize what she’s doing to me. Or maybe she does.
“Yow…” I grab her throat. Her gaze travels up slowly then lands on me, her breath shaky, still moving her fingers. I step forward, grab her hands and make them hold my hard dick, her fingers barely closing around me.
“Handle this,” I growl. She bites her lip like she’s proud of herself. She pulls me down on her, pulling my shirt over my head. I do the same, until we’re skin to skin. She lies on her back, one leg pointing to the ceiling, her fingers snaking around her ankles.
I bite back a groan as I slide deep inside her, slick and tight, every inch of me sinking in.
Zara’s breath hitches, soft moans slipping from her lips as I move slow, long, deep strokes, savoring how she stretches to take me.
Her eyes flutter open, locking with mine, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“Mmm… ” she sighs. “Ughh..” Mid-thrust, I reach for my phone on the nightstand and flip it on, camera facing us.
She catches my eye, grinning, raising a brow, playful, daring.
I sit back on one leg, the other planted firm, still moving inside her, holding the phone steady with one hand.
Her fingers twist in my hair, pulling me down to her, matching my rhythm with that same sultry smile.
“Say mi name,” I whisper, voice low, thick.
“Nickoi,” she breathes, voice trembling.
The camera captures everything, the flicker in her eyes, the rise and fall of her chest, the way her lips part when she moans my name.
But it’s too good, I can’t split my focus.
I stop the video, toss the phone aside, and zone in.
Her walls hugs me from all sides, I swear post-pregnant Zara gets even better, wet and addicting. No distractions. Only her. Only us.
I grip her hips tighter and drive in harder, stroke after stroke, deep and deliberate.
Her moans change, turning guttural, raw, rising from deep inside as her back arches and her thighs tremble.
She feels like silk, wrapped around me, and it’s like fire’s coiling tight, and every thrust is bringing me closer and closer to an explosion.
“Ughh… I feel you… in my stomach…” she bites her lip.
But I don’t slow down. I snap my hips faster. Harder. Relentless.
“Y-you’re gonna make me cry..” she whimpers.
I smile down at her. It’s the kind of rhythm you get lost in.
The kind that pulls the breath right out your lungs.
My head drops to the crook of her neck, her skin warm and sweet beneath my mouth as her voice cracks into desperate whimpers. “No, mi cyaa wul thissss…”
She screams, loud and I clamp a hand over her mouth before Mama hears “Shhh,” I murmur against her skin, lips brushing her temple. “Yuh want mi stop?”
She shakes her head fast, eyes wide, glistening.
I smirk, kiss her shoulder. Then slow it down.
I almost pull all the way out, then push back in slow, watching her body react like it’s too much to handle.
Her legs lock around me. Her spine arches.
Her jaw clenches beneath my hand as her body shakes. Then—
I pause. Buried deep. Still. No motion. Just breath.
Heartbeats. Tension coiled so tight, it’s humming.
Her brows pinch together. She squirms beneath me, mouth muffled.
But I don’t move. I watch her. Every twitch, every flutter of pleasure across her face.
Her body begging for more. “You’re so deep…
I can’t… think.” Torture. Good torture. The kind she craves.
She tries to roll her hips. I tighten my grip.
“No,” I growl at her lips. “You feel that?”
She nods, tears brimming from how intense it is, how full, how deep I’m buried inside her.
Then I slide out, teasingly. She gasps, sharp, breathless, like she just touched heaven.
She tenses, and tries to move, she’s at her peak, I release everything in her, cum leaking down her thighs, but before she can recover.
I slam back in. She clings to me instantly, arms wrapped tight, like she can’t take another inch, and I give her all of it.
Then I pull out again and manage to get a few shallow strokes in, already high off her.
I can’t even control myself. She lets out a sigh, long, shaky, heavenly, the kind that tells me she’s gone.
Ruined. Blissed out. Our eyes connects, then we smile, for no known reason.