Chapter 5 #3
“I hate this feeling. No one knows what I’m going through.
It’s like... how does life still go on? Why?
Some days, I don’t want to be here. Not like harm myself or anything, but just away.
Somewhere far where no one knows me, and I don’t have to wear my grief like some fucking badge of protection or an introduction.
That’s not who I am. That’s not who I want to be. ”
Heavy didn’t know what to say right away.
The bathroom grew quiet again, except for their uneven breathing and the bass from the music upstairs floating through the walls.
This wasn’t the first time tonight that Cyren had struck him speechless, but it was the most conflicted he felt.
She confiding in a nigga, and I ain’t got shit to give her but words I need to use myself.
Heavy’s thoughts took over before he broke the silence.
“I know this shit is wearing you down, but it gets better. You gotta believe that.”
“You can make me feel better.”
Heavy stilled. “What?”
Her fingers curled into the front of his wet shirt, and Cyren held his gaze. “Please.”
She knew he knew what she was asking for. His eyes searched hers for uncertainty, but all he found was pain and tequila-fueled honesty.
“Cyren…”
“I don’t want to feel like this right now,” she whispered. “Please make me feel something else.”
Heavy’s jaw flexed as he looked away, fighting a battle she couldn’t fully see. He hadn’t come down there for this. Whatever the fuck she was trying to make this be. Cyren moved closer, wrapping her arms around his waist.
“You’re hurting too,” she whispered. “I can feel it.”
Heavy’s breathing turned shallow.
“You keep trying to save everybody else from feeling what you feel. Who saves you?”
That question nearly unraveled him. He didn’t have an answer for her but possibly a solution. For both of them. His hand stroked the side of her face, and he restrained himself from gripping her neck like he wanted to.
“You don’t know what you asking me for.”
“Then show me. Do whatever you gotta do, so I can’t feel that shit.” She used his words from earlier against him. Unfair, but all was fair in the game of healing.
“You sure?” Heavy needed one hundred percent consent.
Cyren nodded. “I may be grieving, but this pussy isn’t.”
He would’ve laughed had this been another time when her pussy wasn’t calling his name to be devoured.
Before he changed his mind, Cyren decided to let him know just how sure she was.
Her lips found his, and Heavy didn’t hesitate to kiss her back.
Flipping his hat to the back, he slid his tongue into her mouth and let her suck on it while his hands gripped her ass.
With an urgency to erase the pain she was feeling, he swooped her up in his arms, carrying her to the counter.
His strength shouldn’t have surprised her, but it did.
Cyren wasn’t some young girl with no meat on her bones.
Her weight, or whatever the fuck she was concerned about, wasn’t any of his business.
Only making her feel better was. Their heavy breaths echoed throughout the bathroom as he unbuckled and slid her shorts down, tossing them on the ground. He pulled her to the edge of the sink.
“You smell so fucking good,” he expressed in a pleased grumble against her neck before kissing her there. He had wanted to sniff her all night like a dog wanting to learn about their owner’s day.
Cyren’s head fell back as he licked from one side to the front of her neck, unbuttoning her top so he could kiss down her chest. She grinded into him, silently begging him for more.
Heavy smacked her ass and lifted her feet onto the granite.
Spread open for him, Cyren held her breath as he placed the juiciest kisses against her damp panties. Her gasp encouraged him.
Pulling her panties to the side, Heavy wasted no time opening her up and thumbing her clit. Pressured up and down motions, swirled into precise circles, made Cyren’s head spin.
“Ugh,” she moaned, eyes rolling.
The deep, sexy as fuck, exhale made Heavy’s nostrils flare.
Replacing his thumb with his mouth, Heavy’s tongue glided through her slickness, capturing everything she’d been saving for him.
He flickered his tongue and slurped on her pearl with such expertise that Cyren’s legs were trembling in no time. She bucked against him but didn’t run.
Heavy smirked and kept eating. “Mhm,” was his only encouragement for her to keep humping his face.
When her legs squeezed around his head, evidence of her orgasm creeping up, Heavy pushed her legs further apart, holding her underneath her thighs to stay in place.
The dominance in his grip and the way he was eating her pussy made Cyren melt in his mouth, on the counter, and all over his handsome fucking face.
With the utmost respect for what she asked of him, Heavy obeyed. He teased her clit between his lips, suckling harder, as she released spurts of breath that were far too close together.
“Oh, my gosh. Fuuuck,” she whined, as her stomach hollowed.
“Yeah... there you go. Give me all that shit.”
His words, that deep voice, that fucking mouth of his had Cyren delirious.
She’d give him whatever he asked for as long as he made her cum.
Her palms pressed firmly into the counter as she rolled her hips, riding his face until her orgasm snuck up and rocked her world.
Heavy had licked, slurped, and tongue-fucked the pain away.
She tasted just as sweet as she smelled; utterly delicious.
The ache at his roots as she gripped his locs with moistened eyes was all worth it as she came.
“Mmmm. I’m cumming,” she whispered in a hiss.
Her breathy moans only made him go harder. The slurping, flicking combo he unleashed drove her absolutely insane. If he could, Heavy would eat her pussy forever if it were possible. If the world were ending, she’d be all the nourishment he’d need to survive.
Needing to really feel him and nothing else, Cyren grabbed him by the face, urging him to come up for air. He stared at her fluttering lids and the rise and fall of her chest. Cyren was perfection in his eyes.
Kissing her lips, Heavy gave her a taste of what was now his favorite snack.
They didn’t speak as he removed his gun and placed it on the counter, before unbuckling his pants.
They pooled around his ankles and Nikes as Cyren stroked him through his black briefs.
She bit her bottom lip, pulling his dick out.
Heavy knew she was bold and a bit curious, but this was a side he liked too.
He wasn’t even completely hard, but it didn’t take long for him to get there.
“This dick so big,” Cyren cooed, stroking him to his fullness.
Not a single nervous thought was conjured about how she was going to take him.
Only thoughts of how good he’d feel sliding inside of her clouded her mind.
Whimpers escaped her as he glided the tip along her slickness, rubbing her clit, coating him just enough to push inside of her. Cyren tensed, and Heavy shook his head.
“Un, un. Don’t do that. You ain’t gon’ let me feel it?”
Her head bobbed. “I am,” she sang, moaning her answer.
She was so tight, Heavy struggled to push through her gushiness. His hips rotated as he dipped in and out of her in such fluid motions that Cyren had to pull him closer. Nastily, she tongued him down while her hands caressed his solid abdomen.
Heavy was enjoying the position they were in, but he wanted to really feel her.
He needed to. Lifting her legs, he placed them on his shoulders, angling himself just right where they both wanted him.
The view of her creaming on his dick like she owned it had Heavy ready to stake claim to her.
That quickly, he became addicted. White coat, padded walls, on his Jodeci shit, Heavy promised she could have him, that dick, and anything she wanted around this mothafucka.
Cyren could have it all, as long as she fed his habit.
“Gotdamn,” Heavy groaned, stroking deeper.
His ears were met with the sweetest melodies, but he could tell she was holding back.
Tired of his shirt being in the way, he removed it, knocking his hat off in the process.
Cyren was granted an even better visual of him in a white tank.
Wrapping his arms around her in a bear hug, Heavy hit her with deep thrusts, making her vocals come to life.
Baby girl was a creamer and a screamer; a deadly combo that would surely take him out.
“Yeees! Please don’t stop fucking me,” she cried, but for a different reason this time.
Heavy had no plans on stopping. The way she was gripping him, wetting his dick up, she could’ve asked him for whatever.
His hand found its way into her soft coils, gripping them tightly as he pounded into her.
Heavy gritted his teeth and thrust into her with determination.
Cyren rubbed up and down his arms, on the wave of her third orgasm, when a knock came to the door.
She stilled, but Heavy kept fucking her. Eyes wide, she choked on a moan and covered her mouth. Uncaringly, he snatched her hand away.
“Yeah?” Heavy called out to whoever was on the other side—dick still putting in work. If whoever was really nosey, they’d be able to hear the wetness he was swimming through like a professional athlete. He hadn’t swum in an ocean a day in his life, but you couldn’t tell.
“Y’all good in there?” Boobie asked.
Cyren’s head dropped, hearing her voice, but it popped right back up when he gripped her face.
“Answer her,” Heavy uttered, lowly.
Cyren made the sexiest fuck face, pouting at his request.
“Aye, man,” Boobie said.
Heavy tapped at her spot, making her scream and respond.
“Yes, yes! We’re good.”
“A’ight bet. Nia just got here and was looking for you. I ain’t wanna tell her you was down here getting some dick.” Boobie laughed and hit the door before jogging back up the steps.
Petrified, Cyren pushed Heavy back, barely, and hopped down from the counter. Post orgasm, and still a bit drunk, she stumbled. Catching her around the waist, Heavy licked his lips and swiped a few strands of hair from her damp forehead.
“You good?” he asked.
Tucking her lips, Cyren nodded. She could have fallen right back into his trap, or to her knees, and really gotten it popping with the way he was staring at her.
Instead, she pulled away and adjusted her panties.
She really wanted to take them off, but wearing jeans with no underwear was diabolical, so she thugged it out.
Heavy fixed his clothes and maneuvered around her to wash his hands at the double sink.
Cyren fixed her hair as best as she could, then washed her hands and reapplied her lip gloss before spraying on perfume.
The smell of them together was now her favorite, but she wasn’t about to go upstairs like that.
Smiling, Cyren bit into her bottom lip, watching him tuck his gun and flip his hat back around. “Um, thank you?”
Heavy smirked, eyes roaming her body. She’d gotten lucky. “You’re more than welcome. You can’t feel that shit anymore, can you?”
On a high, and disgustingly pleased, Cyren shook her head. “Not at all. I feel something else, entirely.”
He nodded, knowing exactly what she meant.