Chapter 5
FIVE
“Tuesday, you’ve been good to me,” I yawned.
It had taken two full days for my body to regulate and rebuild its nervous system. Anxiety kept me up later than I’d like for the past two nights. Even as I closed my eyes in the dead of the dark in my bedroom, sleep evaded me. For hours and hours, I rested my head on the pillow with my eyes peering into the abyss my obsessive thoughts were digging.
His brother? It was the question I’d asked a hundred times or more.
My God, Rather . The fact my center still throbbed at the thought of him was even more damning. The two nights I’d spent with him at The Mansion had left a lasting impression on me. Hadn’t I gone to St. Catana with my family and things gone horribly wrong with Chem, one would need pliers to pry me out of the room and off him.
That’s how good he was. That’s how passionate he was. That’s how impressive his performance was. That’s how quickly our connection had formed.
For six months after my departure, I still parted my legs at night with him behind my lids. Licking me. Kissing me. Fucking me. So beautifully.
Without haste. Without hesitation. Without fault. He was perfect. He was ideal. But, his new position in my life wasn’t.
Forget about him. I’d been telling myself for the last two days. And, today was the first day I believed it could happen. Kofi was to be my husband soon. The quicker I established that in my head and heart, the better I’d be.
But, my pussy . My, was she giving me a hard time.
The mid-day nap left me with an appetite. I flipped the covers and slipped into my fuzzy slippers, heading downstairs. A large Cesar salad with extra crouton crumbles was heavy on my mind. My stomach growled at the thought of my oversized salad bowl filled to the brim with leafy greens.
The sun had begun to settle, casting the most enchanting purplish glow across the sky. Its beauty was such a delight to witness. I rounded the counter and opened the fridge, prepared to take advantage of the sun room or built-in breakfast nook. Both had immaculate views of the sun.
“Alexa, shuffle my playlist.”
“Shuffling Rather’s playlist,” Alexa responded.
Immediately, Toni Braxton’s voice dressed the beat. The song of choice sent a sharp pain through my chest, causing me to halt all motion. The third and lines forced my eyes close as those visions I was desperately trying to suppress began playing.
“I love me some you,” she sang. “Another man will never do.”
Ding Dong.
The sound of the doorbell rescued me from the depths of hell. I pulled my robe tighter around my body and retrieved the closest firearm without disturbing my small arsenal. The coat closet was my first stop. Opening the door, mid-day, dressed in a robe and an extra long hair roller was unacceptable. I’d never hear the end of my mother’s mouth in my head.
I removed the roller and traded my gown for a long, flowy dress that I was tasked with keeping near the door since I’d gotten my first home. According to my mother, my comfort was top priority but decorum was second place. Greeting houseguests morning, noon, and evenings required proper attire. After nightfall, they were subject to my nightly threads and I shouldn’t be sorry for it.
Because, unless it was an emergency, they shouldn’t be at my doorstep. All else could wait for sunrise. My sisters and I had lived by those words since we were gifted homes of our own. This was my second and nothing had changed.
I tucked the robe and gown away, promising to revisit as soon as I was alone again. One foot in front of the other, I moseyed my way toward the door. I opened it to find a gentleman on the other side with a parcel in his hands, extending it for me to take.
“Good day, Ma’am.”
“Thank y– you?” I questioned, genuinely confused by the box in my hand.
Kleigh and I had done a number online, shopping without limits and charging everything to a card that belonged to her family. She’d remembered the number by heart. The shipping had been expedited for every delivery and they’d all been made. I’d spent the last two days sulking and organizing the closet. Everything was accounted for.
Without another word, he was off to his car. I stepped away from the door after locking up. As if it was contaminated, I held the box a few inches away from my body and led it straight to the mailroom. It was small and just off the study, but the perfect place to sort through mail and packages so they weren’t sitting in the foyer collecting dust before I actually decided to deal with them.
I split the lone strip of tape holding the package together. Easily, the top lifted, revealing a vaguely familiar lingerie set with an envelope settled in on top of the threads. Out of pure curiosity, I removed the envelope and pulled the slip of thick paper from it. The message was short but it packed a punch. Long after they’d been read and reviewed a hundred times, they’d still haunt me.
Rose,
PS102.
9pm.
Tonight.
I swallowed the saliva that pooled in my mouth, nearly ending my life. I began a coughing spell that made my face burn and my throat tight. I patted my chest with my hand. My palm slapped my skin each time it collided with my chest.
“Shit.”
My ears began ringing. My face grew warmer. I struggled to breathe. And, for what felt like forever, I tried correcting the mistake I’d made. A full minute later when my recovery began, I read the letter again, still wondering where they were selling the audacity Priest had purchased. I’d only dealt with two entitled men my entire lifetime. One had birthed me with his bare hands. The other thought he’d birthed me.
Bumping into Kofi and his oldest brother was appalling. They both possessed that character flaw. Because it had been instilled in me from a child, I was hardly upset. But, revolted, nonetheless.
Rose,
PS102.
9pm.
Tonight.
His demands were simple, yet so complex. In hindsight, I had two months and two weeks before my commitment was established. My body belonged to no one until then. But, somehow, I felt like it might not be the case. Not to him, at least.
Rose,
PS102.
9pm.
Tonight.
“Ugh.”
Nine? Why nine? I questioned.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m not going. So, no. It doesn’t matter,” I finalized, shoving the box and note to the side and heading back into the kitchen.
As quickly as I’d gone in, I bolted out. Once more, I had to read the contents of the note.
Rose,
PS102.
9pm.
Tonight.
“I ca– I can’t. Ugh.”
I exited again, this time with the note still in my hand.
“Roulette, please pick up,” I begged of my sister before I’d even dialed her number.
I needed her in the worst way. The time difference would toss a wrench in, but it didn’t hurt to try. Maybe when she heard what was happening in my world she’d wake right on up and give me the best sisterly advice she could muster. Because, putting it very lightly, I was in over my head.
By the third ring, I’d lost hope. However, the grogginess in her voice a second later brought me comfort beyond explanation.
“Is everything okay, Rather?” She groaned.
“Yes and no!”
“Are you safe? Are you hurt?”
“I’m safe, Roulette. Wake up. Please.”
Silence coated the line. I was losing her. I could feel it. Exhaustion was riding her tail. There was nothing either of us could do about it.
“Roulette.”
“I’m tired, babe. Sorry, but pretty bitches need sleep. We have such heavy loads on a daily basis.”
“Load? Roulette, you’re currently jobless and on an island,” I reminded her. All of our loads were light. Chemistry made sure of it.
“And, sleep. You didn’t add that.”
She yawned, assuring me she couldn’t be of service.
“I’m sorry, babe. The time difference. The morning, okay? I promise.”
“Okay. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, I love you.”
“In this lifetime and all the others, babe,” sadly, I replied before ending the call and letting Roulette get the beauty rest she was adamant about.
My rumbling stomach reminded me I was due for that Caesar salad. As I removed the dressings, croutons, parmesan cheese, pre-boiled egg, and leafy greens, I grew uneasy. With everything on the counter, I began putting together the salad, simultaneously keeping an eye on the clock.
7:51pm.
I crushed the croutons, pounding them against the wooden mortar with the wooden pestle that matched.
9pm.
Tonight .
I combined the ingredients in the salad bowl and dressed them well with Caesar and then sprinkled parmesan cheese on top. The tidying began immediately after. Once everything was put away, I left a trail of dread behind as I headed for the nook. I’d stored my latest read on the ledge with promises to return.
I opened the book with the intention of occupying my thoughts. The novel was a tale of two friends becoming lovers without either of them truly knowing until that love was tested. I’d never had the pleasure of befriending a male, but wasn’t opposed to the idea. Having Chemistry was the closest I’d ever had to a male best friend. While I knew I could decipher feelings and keep from falling for a friend, I understood Kaylin’s dilemma.
Ugh . Frustration widened my nose and thickened the air around me. Though my eyes were on the words and I was reciting them in my head, nothing was sticking. The salad I desperately wanted minutes prior sat in the bowl, untouched and undesired.
8:08pm.
I closed my eyes, trying my hardest to replace thoughts of the pending meet up. Priest was expecting me, but I wouldn’t be there. It didn’t matter that Roulette wasn’t awake long enough to listen and tell me it wasn’t a good idea. I knew it wasn’t and I knew I couldn’t fall through with it.
8:10pm.
The warmth of the sun’s setting welcomed me as I exposed my orbs, again. Anxiousness grew heavier in my spirit, blocking everything else with little effort. I became numb with paralyzed limbs. My thumb hurt something awful from separating the pages of the book for as long as I had. However, I couldn’t close it. I couldn’t move.
8:15pm.
I slammed the book shut and released a shaky breath.
I have to go. I have to tell him this is unacceptable. We can– we can’t do this. He should know.
Mentally, I calculated the distance from my home to The Mansion. Because I knew I’d need to put on something more presentable, I wouldn’t get out of the house for another ten minutes at the very least. Fifteen gave me a bit more of a cushion to lean on.
It would take almost a full thirty minutes to get to the gates and another five to park and get my balance settled before making my way to his suite. I’d surely keep him waiting a while before I delivered the news.
Not if you leave now . I protested.
I bolted from my seat at the sound of my voice in my head. And, within seven minutes, my teeth were brushed, new clothes were pressed against my skin, and I had the parcel in my hand on my way out of the door. I slid into the Panamera, a gift from Teddy that was waiting upon my arrival in the States.
It had taken me three days to take note of the car sitting in the garage. Nevertheless, I was in love with the sleek, black model. The motor purred as I tapped the gas, speeding down the winding path leading to the expressway.
Lucky Daye made my stomach turn with his addictive voice singing so pleasantly about hearing his woman making the fucking sound.
Ugh.
I smashed the large display screen with the tip of my index finger, immediately ready to hear the next song. To my dismay, Chris Brown claimed to not give a fuck about the man his lover had, promising to pull her hair and beat it right now.
Ugggh!
Sexual frustration threatened my sanity as I pushed the screen again for the next song. Comfortable was next on the list, putting my mind and body at ease with only the first line. I fought to maintain control of the visions in my head. Kofi’s handsome face brought a smile to mine.
Though he was rough around the edges and lived life on the ledge, I wasn’t opposed to the idea of us. Not because I wanted things to work, but because they had to or I’d live a life of misery and that wasn’t happening on my watch. I’d been in worse situations and made the best of them. This one wouldn’t be much different.
My survival skills went far beyond that of the average woman, because I was far from average. No one I entertained or kept company with was average. Even the thought of anything regular was repulsive.
Comfortable was followed by Long Nights, an unofficial classic by 6lack. For the rest of the ride, more pleasantries served as background music as I floored the gas in pursuit of The Mansion.
With one foot in front of the other, I marched up the stairs with a martini in hand. Confronting Priest didn’t require liquid courage. Avoiding his advances did. In the last ten minutes, I’d learned my year-long residency balance had been settled and restarted the following year. For the entire two years I was away, he’d kept my tab paid and my suite in pristine condition.
I waited.
His words in the hall began to resonate more. And, the box in my hand felt pointless. However, there was a life outside of these walls we were both involved in and whatever had happened prior to that discovery simply couldn’t happen again.
No matter how much it melted my heart to learn he’d, in fact, waited for me. No matter how much I missed his girth plunging into my canal. No matter how good he made me feel. No matter how much pressure he relieved. No matter how ideal his arms were after a busy day. No matter how much I wanted to get back to him after going away.
The truth was, I wasn’t his to have anymore. At any capacity. I was taken. Reserved. In-waiting. I was promised to another man. That man happened to be his brother. And, he’d played a huge part in our arrangement. In my opinion, this was all his fault. He was the reason whatever we had we couldn’t have anymore.
Standing in front of his door, I tipped the glass and finished the drink. As a tray full of champagne passed me by, I sat it on top of it. Sighing deeply, I stared at the numbers I remembered better than any I’d ever been tasked with logging into my memory. We’d spent two short nights tangled in each other’s limbs, but they felt like half a lifetime.
My knuckles rested against the door, softly. At the very last second, I decided against knocking. Instead, I twisted the knob, somehow figuring it wasn’t locked and I was free to enter.
The door swung open. As the path illuminated with the light from his suite, I stepped in with my chest expanded and my head high. My breath hiked in my chest.
Unlike the two times before when I’d entered his suite, there wasn’t a mask covering his features. Priest stood on all ten toes with his arms folded across his chest and one hand pulling at the hair on his chin. He was in deep thought and not even my presence had interrupted him.
I’d bet any amount of money those thoughts surrounded me, just like his presence surrounded me. Consumed me. I chastised myself for the thoughts beginning to circulate. As quickly as they came, I pushed them aside and remembered the task at hand.
I shoved the parcel in his direction, shutting the door behind me simultaneously. Instead of taking it, he turned and retrieved his drink.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
And then a fourth.
His steps were calculated. Concise . He neared me, the smell of his cologne overpowering my arousal. I was thankful for the aroma, because mine was aggressive, seeking satisfaction.
In one swift motion, he removed the red mask from my face, revealing features he’d gotten acquainted with over two family dinners and a brief moment of privacy in the hall. Priest didn’t stop in stride. He continued in the other direction, leaving me breathless. As he walked deeper into the suite, he pulled at my heartstrings, demanding I follow him without a single word spoken.
“Why aren’t you dressed, Rose ?” He tossed over his shoulder.
Though he hadn’t truly shown it, I sensed his aggravation. I’d ruined whatever fantasy in that big head of his.
Good.
“Because, I’m not here to soften your dick, Priest. I’m here as a courtesy. Here to let you know that whatever this was between us, whatever we’ve been waiting for, whatever we’ve been yearning for… it ends tonight. Right here. Right now. Things have changed. The stakes are high. And, I have a duty to uphold. My brother has never asked anything of us. Nothing.”
“This is my chance to prove to him that all he’s ever done for us wasn’t in vain. This is my chance to prove we have his back just like he has ours. I can’t fuck this up. I won’t fuck this up. It doesn’t matter how drawn to you I once felt. I’m marrying your brother. That’s it. That’s final. That’s my reality. Get it through your thick skull. Get i–”
“Oh, Rose,” Priest grunted, sitting his glass on the dining table.
“My have you forgotten,” he hissed, “but I’m here to remind you. When you cross that threshold, you’re in my world, baby girl. You don’t think without my permission. You don’t speak without my permission. You don’t move without my permission. You don’t do a motherfucking thing without my permission. You move when I say move. You open when I say open. You fuck when I say fuck. You suck when I say suck. You cum– when I say cum .”
Priest gazed at me as he removed the jacket of his suit. He laid it on the chair to preserve its perfection and avoid wrinkles.
“When you enter that motherfucking door, I own your thoughts. Your words. And, your body. Maybe I’m not the smartest man on the planet and my education isn’t as extensive as you and your siblings, but I don’t need a fucking degree to know that if you didn’t want to be here you wouldn’t be.”
He removed the cuff links and unbuttoned the sleeves of his shirt.
“Your absence would’ve told me everything I needed to know. But, your presence… it has told me a whole fucking lot, Rose. Not only do you miss this dick, but you miss the experience this suite gives.”
Sarcastically, he chuckled with a shake of his head.
“I don’t blame you one bit, baby, because it’s addictive. Two hits and I’d become its slave. As headstrong as a girl you are, you fell victim too and that’s alright. Remember something, Rose. I had that shit before that deal existed. The sacrifice doesn’t change things between us. It simply ups the ante.”
He unbuttoned the last button on his shirt and pushed it from his shoulders. His body was agonizingly impressive. Fit. Sculpted. Defined.
“Understand that I have more than two months before I have to give you up and I intend to take my precious time doing so. You might be my brothers after the day we’ve set for you, but right now– you’re mine . So take off them fucking clothes and put your hands on that fucking bed. We have unfinished business.”
“We– Pries–”
“Fine.”
He was tilting his head one second. Next, he was in front of me. His breath on my nose. His hands cupping my ass. His rod against my center. His lips on mine. His tongue down my throat.
Just like the rose he claimed me to be, I opened for him. The passion he infused in the kiss was reciprocated. I mimicked his energy. I inherited his thirst.
He took his precious time carrying me to the bed where he peeled the linen dress from my body with disgust. Underneath was a black seamless thong, a thigh holster, and my Beretta. He inched toward my gun, ready to remove it and the holster, but was sadly mistaken.
“Don’t.”
He continued, not caring much for my demand. Once my gun was on the ottoman beside the bed, Priest hovered over me with his head low and his eyes trained on me.
“You don’t run shit in here, Rose.”
My nipples had hardened to the point of pain. His large hand over the right one felt criminal. With an open palm, he rotated it in the center. Though the movement was subtle, the effects were unbearable.
“Understood?”
At once, his index finger and thumb tried fusing themselves to my left nipple. Priest squeezed. I squirmed below him, wanting to beg for his consideration but refusing to. The defiance he was met with struck a chord within him.
Instead of tender circles around my right breast, he trapped my nipple between his fingers to double the pain and suffering that made me slippery below. My heart raced in my chest, galloping at one-hundred beats per minute.
Please! I begged, internally. I’d heard it a million times or more from clients in my chair. Never had I ever been at the mercy of another man. Never had I been on the receiving end of the torture. Never did I think I’d resort to the same feelings, same thoughts as my clients.
Yet, here I was, waiting for Priest’s form of therapy. The kind that had me cumming non stop two years ago. The kind that had me rubbing my clit every night for six months at the thought of it.
The kind I had every intention of seeking when Kofi established the rules of our arrangement. The kind that had me springing from my chair to meet him here though I promised it was only to tell him we couldn’t be involved.
Sexual therapy.
Emotional therapy.
Physical therapy.
Mental therapy .
“Answer my fucking question, Rose, or we’ll be right here until you do.”
The idea of not having him inside of me lifted my head up and then down. Up and then down.
“Words. Use your words.”
“Yes.”
He loosened his grip and stood straight up against the bed. Where the sleek black wrapper in his hand had come from, I wasn’t sure of, but I was delighted by its presence. Within seconds, it was on his tool and my thong was pushed to the side.
Anticipation clogged my lungs and put an end to my breathing. I was stuck. Mesmerized by Priest's features, his readiness, his desire, and his skill. We’d been here before, so I knew his capabilities were beyond my comprehension.
His thick, meaty dick pounced on my clit, causing me to shudder with each blow. My stomach imploded as I began to breathe again. I inhaled deeply and pushed out fresh, shaky breaths.
And, without warning, Priest parted me. He drove himself into me. He split me right down the center. Naturally, my hands roamed in search of something to have, something to hold.
“Oh my G?—”
He sealed our reunion with a kiss. The guilt slowly crept from my frame, transferring itself to Priest. The energy was unwelcomed.
The first stroke recaptured my breath, but replaced it by the second one. The third stroke reminded me why I was here and not home eating the salad that was now in my trash bin.
“Ummmm.”
We were no longer attached at the lips. I closed my eyes, desperately trying to savor the moment but my climax was approaching rapidly. Too much time had elapsed. Too much was at stake.
His strokes deepened. My center sounded in the privacy of his suite, feeling the air with pleasantries we both understood were a result of my gratitude. The creaminess assisted his intrusion, leaving us both in a state of delirium, desperation, and delusion.
I could feel Priest peering at me as his right hand roamed my body, eventually ending around my neck. Gently, he squeezed. He was majestic. A fib. Fiction. Unreal. Majestic in every sense of the world.
“Eyes,” he requested.
“Pr–”
He removed himself from my gaping hole.
“Eyes, Rose.”
I reopened them, hopeful that my obedience would lead to his reinsertion. I was wrong. My eyes glossed with tears. I needed him inside of me as bad as I needed my heart to continue beating, however fast or slow that suited the moment.
Priest stood at the edge of the bed with a hand on both hips, never taking his eyes off me. He was collected. He was calm. I was losing every bit of control inside.
He sensed it. He saw it. He acknowledged it.
“Speak.”
“Please–” I whimpered, watching as he removed the condom from his shaft.
Saliva production made the bottom of my mouth tingle. My sublingual glands were hard at work, moisturizing my mouth to keep my throat wet. Preparation was key and if Priest decided to stuff my mouth with his tool, I needed to be ready.
“Please? Please what, Rose?”
He massaged his dick. It was beautiful, just as he was. The girth was consistent along his phallus. His scrotum was in pristine condition. It didn’t hang very low, but his testis had ample room for movement.
His cockiness surpassed his other characteristics and demanded attention. Priest was no fool. He knew just how potent his presence was. He knew just how possessive one became during and after an encounter.
He knew just how fucking irresistable his pole was. He knew his pace was perfection. Everything and nothing in particular about his bedroom skills justified his arrogance and I couldn’t be upset about it.
“Put it back.”
“Back where?”
He touched himself, blowing my mind with every stroke of his hand.
“Inside of me.”
“How, Rose? How do you want me inside of you?”
“Just like thaaaat,” lowly, I beseeched.
He lessened the space between us. His skin met mine, catapulting me into the land of doom. We were both playing a very dangerous game, but the risk was worth the reward. Without a barrier, Priest slid his thickness against my slit, lubricating it with my secretion.
“Like this?”
“Yessssss. Yes. Like that. Just like thaaaa–”
Priest entered me. Skin to hymen. With one hand beside my head and the other around my waist, he stirred the ingredients inside my pot. His eyes lowered. He was unable to continue the gazing. He was losing the uphill battle. He was weakening.
Without warning Priest, I prepared for the inevitable. With each stroke, I climbed higher and higher, in anticipation of my peak.
“Eyes,” I pled with Priest. “Eyes.”
I was speaking out of turn but my rebellion would lead to my revolution. He had to understand. Those irises were the end of me and I was desperate for my demise.
“Eyes.”
There they were. In all their true glory. My center caved and grew more slippery. More vocal. Deeper. Warmer.
“Ummmmmmm–”
I slammed my eyes shut for only a moment. I reopened them as my orgasm crowded my central systems, increasing my sensitivity. My head lifted from the bed, slightly, to see just how much of my womanhood was releasing onto Priest’s manhood. He was covered.
The view intensified my elation and I began to truly unfold. To blossom. To bloom. Like a garden in the spring, I came to life.
Abruptly, Priest dislodged. He rested his pole against my clit as it pulsated, hungrily attempting to extract him of his goods.
“Urrrrrrgh.”
His grunt signified the nearing of his ending. The sperm waiting in his vas deferens was anticipating his eruption, ready to exit through his shaft and fill me with responsibilities I wasn’t ready for.
“Fuck.”
Back and forward, Priest began to rock, massaging himself in the folds of my vagina. His limbs grew stiffer. His features stretched, putting his thoughts on full display. His breathing was no longer steady.
“Shit. Shit.” He rounded his spine as he repeated, lowly.
Suddenly, his sprout released his load. Semen pierced the air before falling onto the skin of my bald pussy and down his erection.
The warm water cascaded down my head, neck, and back. The fuss of it all, reluctantly happening right in my head, caused me to grow weary. I snuggled the oversized sponge against my chin and mouth wondering what consequences would become of my actions and how disappointed Chemistry would be if he knew where I was, what I’d just done, and who I was with.
It wasn’t the man my family had promised me to. It was the man my family had promised. And for the life of me, I couldn’t understand why he felt so good when he was so wrong.
“Speak,” Priest coaxed, softening his tone. “Freely.”
For the life of me, I couldn’t find his eyes. Shame consumed me. Dread filled me. Anxiety tried drowning me. I was in the depths of despair as the water’s height grew taller around me. I wasn’t sure if I’d be pulled to shore or swept away with the tides. The only thing I knew was the journey had just begun.
“I have nothing to say,” I admitted with a hump of my shoulders.
For the first time in my life, I was leading with the one thing my family despised as a whole. Feelings . They were the beginning of every end. It was proven.
“But you do.”
“It doesn’t matter. None of it matters, Priest.”
I sighed, releasing the sponge from my clutch and placing it where it belonged before attempting to leave the shower. It was impossible. My shoulder collided with his chest.
“I need to get home.”
“I never said you were going home, Rose.”
It wasn’t a desire of mine. I just needed words to fill the space. Though I knew it would be best to leave, I was stuck here. Mentally, emotionally and now physically. There was no escaping Priest. Not tonight, at least.
He cupped my chin and turned it toward him. He was so well-constructed. Dark skin. A fade with waves like oceans swirling his hair. A muscular frame. Peculiar eyes. Chiseled cheeks. A strong jawline. A nose that could smell roses miles away. Lips that were full and so fucking kissable.
“I’m not opposed to that idea.”
“It didn’t matter if you were,” he assured me with a half-smile.
With a shake of my head, I tried exiting the shower again. Priest stopped me, again, but this time with his hand around my neck.
“Whoever told you your feelings were invalid, that they didn’t matter– they lied.”
“No o–”
“Yes, Rose. Yes they did. Even if it wasn’t out of their mouths. Indirectly, someone has led you to believe your feelings don’t matter. Shouldn’t matter. But, they do. In this suite and any time I am around, understand your feelings are paramount. Your comfort is priority. Your desires… your needs… you– Rose. You will hold ranking.”
“And, when it’s all over in December?”
Kofi and I were scheduled to wed in winter.
“Stop worrying yourself, Rose. Tomorrow has yet to come.”
Sighing, I stepped back and looked up at his handsome face.
“It should’ve been you.”
“It will be me–until it’s not.”
The last three words were daggers in my heart, but Priest didn’t allow me to sulk for long. He twisted the knob to stop the flow of the water. He was the first to get out of the shower. Before grabbing a towel for himself, he wrapped me in one and led me out onto the plush mat. He slid the disposable slippers across the floor for me to slide into. I watched as he repeated the same steps, but for himself.
We re-entered the cool air. Priest had increased the temperature on the thermostat but with only twenty minutes elapsing, there wasn’t a significant change throughout the suite.
“Downstairs, there’s a small wardrobe for you. It’s still in the box. I’ll make sure it’s ready soon so you’re not digging through those bags for long.”
I hadn’t noticed the bags along the wall until his mentioning of them. He walked over to the smaller one and removed a red, silk crimson red robe. A silk dress accompanied it.
“Your skin is covered in fine bumps, Rose.”
He offered the 2-piece and immediately retrieved red slippers from the same bag. Even with all their fluff, they did very little to enhance the elegant pieces in my hand. The disappointment on my face brought a smile to his.
“Speak,” he urged.
“I’m underwhelmed.”
“Figured.”
He took two steps and began digging into another bag. This time, he retrieved a square box. He removed the lid and feathers fell over the cardboard. My eyes glistened and my heart’s pounding began another 800 meter dash. It raced, covering as much ground as possible as I anticipated the reveal of the box’s contents.
Priest held up the red platform with a single, thick strap across the top. Feathers covered the entirety of the strap, but didn’t exceed its stitches. The rest of the shoe was as plain as it was pretty.
I nodded, approving the second option. There was a twenty-year-old woman inside of me screaming uncontrollably because this was exactly how she’d imagined her life. Minus the fact it was my future husband’s brother I was having sexual relations with. And, minus the fact that the marriage I’d dreamt of as a kid was arranged.
“More of your speed, Rose?”
I nodded, unable to redirect the curving of my lips.
“Speak.”
“Only I’d imagined this outfit in black, though red is winning me over.”
“Hmmm.” He nodded, taking my suggestion into consideration. “And?”
“My heels pounding the floors of a penthouse or the top level of the home of my lover.”
“That can be arranged,” he chuckled, “As long as you understand you have a lot of fucking footage to cover on that top level, love.”
I shook my head, “Let’s not blur the lines. What we have stays here. Can you at least promise me that?”
“I can.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t ever wonder, Rose. Your comfortability is my responsibility.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?” He asked.
“What will make you comfortable?”
“A spot between your legs with your pussy parted and these heels in the air.”
Like butter, I melted. The lack of emotion as the words fell from his lips revealed the viciousness of his thoughts.
“Take them.”
Because I loved a good challenge, I opened a hand, waiting for him to hand over the new beauties.
I exchanged them for the pieces of fabric in my hand. Priest wandered across the room in search of a place to hang the threads. He settled with the closet after a few seconds. Meanwhile, I searched through the pink bag with the large M in the center. I’d shopped at Miss Lewd enough times to remember the logo. Inside, I found a plethora of interesting products, but it was one I was looking for in particular.
“There.” Barely above a whisper, I rejoiced.
The edible oil glided on the body so effortlessly. Though I hadn’t had the pleasure of it being licked from my skin, I’d worn it a number of times. It was their best-seller and for good reasoning.
I removed the towel I’d been given and began oiling my body from head to toe. The Pre-Heat body oil didn’t sit on top of your skin. It seeped into your pores while still giving you a healthy shine and a sleekness that could be seen long before it was felt.
It wasn’t until he cleared his throat that I noticed Priest had joined me. I slathered the oil on my ankles, sure not to touch the bottom of my feet. I’d ruin the shoes. The cap twisted back onto the bottle with ease. I placed it on the nightstand just in case the seal couldn’t contain its contents.
Seconds later, I slid into the red heels. Something within me was activated. Slowly, I began to transform. Slowly, I began to recharge and the power Priest stripped me of each time I walked through the door began its journey back to me.
“Uh hm.”
He depleted me. Stripped me of the power, immediately.
“On that fucking bed.”
I strutted across the floor without haste. Carefully, Priest observed every move I made. And, when I was finally on the bed, he joined me. Up on my elbows, I anticipated the feeling of his tongue against my flesh.
“Open.”
I parted, just as he’d imagined. He angled his head at a mere thirty degrees. His eyes bounced from mine to my pussy.
“She’s pretty.”
Slow blinks ensued. With each word Priest spoke, consciousness became harder to manage. He was intoxicating.
“So fucking fat.”
He lowered his head, planting it between my legs.
Comfortable? I shuddered as contact was initiated.
“Tell me something good, Rose.”
He circled my clit with his tongue. My spine curved, lifting my back from the bed.
“I– I m– ohhhhhh.”
“And don’t stop talking or I will.”
He spoke to my pussy, never taking his lips off me.
“I missed thiiiiiisss.”
“You missed this or you missed me?”
“Bothhhhhh.”