12. Nairobi Crawford #3
I kissed him hard, biting his bottom lip as I wrapped my hand around his throat. “Open,” I whispered, giving it a slight squeeze.
He parted his lips. I spat in his mouth and kissed him again, deeper this time.
That sent him over the edge.
He gripped my ass and lifted me just enough to line us up, then drove into me with a force that made my back arch. I gasped, nails digging into his shoulders. He was so deep I swore I could feel him in my ribs.
My nails raked down his back as he started thrusting into me, slowly like he wanted me to feel every inch. My breath came out in ragged moans as I moved with him. He buried his face in my chest, pulling a nipple into his mouth and grazing it with his teeth.
“Giving orders like you run shit,” he gritted against my skin.
His grip on my hips tightened, guiding me to match his rhythm.
Right as I felt my release coiling low in my belly, he stopped.
“Turn around,” he said, voice thick with heat.
I climbed off and dropped to my knees. I started to arch and went to brace myself when Fontaine’s hands gripped the backs of my thighs and pulled me down onto his face.
“F-fuck,” I gasped as my hands flew to the back of the couch for balance.
He devoured me like a man starved. His tongue rolled over my clit and my body shook as he lapped up my essence. He slid two fingers in me and pressed up against that sensitive spot that made my eyes roll back.
“See how my pussy’s purring for me, Kitten,” he mumbled, the timbre of his voice vibrating against me.
I came hard, my legs threatened to give out as he took every bit of it from me like a debt he was owed.
He kissed the inside of my thigh before slipping out from under me and positioning himself behind me. I barely caught my breath when I felt him dragging his dick along my folds, teasing me, and then slid back in.
He bent over and kissed the curve of my spine. “You don’t gotta say it,” he murmured. “I already know.”
My throat tightened. I wanted to say it. Lord knows I did. I’d loved him since before New York, since before I could really identify what the feeling was. But the words still wouldn’t come. I was too caught up in all the ways I’d taught myself to survive without needing anybody.
“Bear, please,” I whined, pushing back against him.
He slammed into me and slapped my ass—the sting made me clench around him. I reached back and rubbed my clit, chasing that high again as he planted one foot on the couch and practically fucked me into the cushions.
My body trembled under him as I came, the orgasm crashing over me and leaving me limp. He kept going until his body tensed as he let out a low, guttural groan, spilling inside me.
I stayed there, draped over the couch trying to catch my breath.
After, we showered together and climbed into bed, my body still humming from everything we’d done.
The sheets were cool against my skin, his arm around my shoulder as I rested my head against his chest. His thumb traced lazy circles over my arm as we lay there in the dark.
I stared at the ceiling, my mind running over the things we’d been through over the past few weeks since I’d been back.
He was right. I was almost forty, still running scared from a man who’d made it clear—again and again—that he loved me, knowing how fucked up I was.
The only way to know if I was cut out for a relationship was to stop hiding and just do it.
“I wanna try,” I said quietly.
Fontaine kept stroking my skin and didn’t say anything. It was like he was waiting to make sure he heard me right.
“With us,” I continued. “I want to be with you, officially. Openly. Not just in the in-between moments when shit feels safe.” I propped myself up and looked at him. “Sterling’s mess has been running my life long enough. I wanna see what it’s like to let you love me—for real.”
His gaze searched mine in the dark, eyes soft. “You sure?”
I nodded slowly. “Not gonna lie, I’m scared like shit. I’m a grown ass woman who’s never had a real boyfriend. But I’m tired of fighting this.”
His hand slid up to cup my cheek. “So, you not gonna hit me with another disappearing act once this shit wraps up?”
“Oh my God, that was two years ago,” I groaned, swatting his chest playfully. “Clearly, I’m trying to show you I’m a changed woman.”
“Good,” he said, pulling me back down to rest against him. “‘Cause this halfway shit really been testing my patience. You been mine, Nai. You were the only one that was acting like you ain’t know that.”
Warmth bloomed in my chest as I smiled against him. “My father taught me how to kill and how to survive. Love was never part of the lesson plan. If anything, he told me to keep my heart locked up so people couldn’t use it against me. And now even Kenya’s been softer with me… It’s weird.”
Fontaine tightened his hold on me. “Sometimes healing starts with another person. It might get messy, but I’ll be here.”
“Mmm,” I hummed. “I’m still gonna kill Parker though.”
He laughed—a deep satisfied sound that rumbled through his chest. “Do what you gotta do, Kitten.”