Chapter Fifteen
Nazir
When we finally made it upstairs, her stubborn ass fumbled with the keycard, hands shaking, instead of letting me help.
Standing behind her, watching her fight with the door and keycard was triggering for me.
It was triggering because, in a sense, I had left her alone to fight.
All those years, she had to push her feelings aside and fight without me there.
She had to become a new mother while mourning a love she never thought she would have to mourn.
After she cursed under her breath the second time, I gently moved her out of the way and used mine. I stepped back, and she staggered toward the door. I gently grabbed her wrist to steady her. It was gentle enough that she could have slipped her wrist out of my hold if she wanted to.
She turned to face me, her eyes misty from wanting to cry. I hated to see her cry, and I wanted to hurt anyone who made her cry. What did you do when you were the person who caused those tears?
I didn’t give either of us a minute to think or plan what to say next. When she didn’t fight to get out of my grasp, I pushed her against the door and kissed her. Our bodies collided; the kid was hard and almost desperate.
As if I had spent every waking moment planning how this kiss would go, I slowed down, and she melted into me like I knew she had wanted to do from the first moment she saw me. Her hands bunched up my shirt, wrinkling it in the process––but fuck that shit. I didn’t care.
She pulled me closer, as if she didn’t want me to slip away again.
I held her waist, pulling her closer to me as I prepared to slam the door.
Her body pressed again mine felt like everything I had dreamed of since she had been missing from my side.
Every curve, every soft whimper she allowed to escape from her lips filled me with enough energy to take on the world.
“Sweet Love” by 112
After closing the door, everything became a blur until her back hit the wall next to the door.
My mouth stayed locked on hers, as if I was sending apologies through every kiss.
Telling how sorry I was, and that I would never hurt her again.
Promising her forever, because this time, I wanted to give her forever and every day after that.
Her hands found their way around my neck as I remained bent down, our kiss still locked in, as if neither of us wanted to detach from the other. Finally, I broke our kiss and pressed my forehead against hers, both of us panting and wanting the same thing.
“I should have stayed. Should have fought for you…us,” I breathed out.
I could feel her hands trembling at the back of my neck. She was nervous. I softly pecked her lips before resting my head back on her forehead.
“You didn’t,” she whispered back, her voice cracking in the process.
“I know,” I rasped. “But I’m here now, Tata. Put that on my life and our kids. I’m not going anywhere.”
It would have to take the entire Lower East Side to get me to leave her. I wasn’t going anywhere, even if she hated me for it. She stared at me, eyes searching for the truth. She wanted to believe me, but was hesitant because she knew what believing in me had gotten her the last time.
Instead of words, she used both her hands and pulled my face toward hers. Our lips crashed into each other’s, like she was giving me a physical forgiveness. Letting me know what she needed, and to let the other shit go––at least for tonight.
I knew that no matter what happened tonight or the day after––Tatiana was mine again.
Her kisses become hungrier and reckless, knocking the air out of my lungs. I didn’t need to think or hesitate; I knew what she wanted. I grabbed her thigh, lifting her up as if she weighed nothing, while she wrapped her thick thighs around me like she had been waiting for this moment all night.
Her nails clawed at my back, scraping the back of my neck and sending a shiver down my spine.
I sucked on her lips as I maneuvered through the suite to her room.
Our lips stayed locked together as I kicked the door open.
I didn’t give a damn that my shoe might have damaged the door.
I also didn’t give a damn about my phone ringing in my pocket. All I gave a fuck about was her.
She released a soft whimper against my mouth as I hiked her up, holding two hands full of ass.
Her ass was soft like putty. Smacking it, I sucked on her lips while still holding her up.
I never wanted to put her down. A nigga wanted to keep her right there––rested slightly above my dick that was fighting to be released from my pants.
It knew who was near and how much we craved the feeling of her sliding down onto us.
Her soft whimpers did something to me. Made me feel like she needed this just as much as I did. I grabbed at her dress, pulling it up so I could slap her ass without the silk in the way. I yearned to hear her say that I was hers––that this dick belonged to her.
“Fuck, Tata,” I breathed against her lips, pressing her against the wall in the room.
The bed was only a few feet away, but I didn’t want to let her go yet.
She ran her fingers through my beard, her eyes glassy, panting with anticipation. Her eyes roamed my face as if she was trying to memorize every feature, like she wasn’t going to see me again.
The tear dared to be defiant and slipped down her cheek. I caught it with my thumb and held it there while gazing into her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice breaking. “I’m so fuckin sorry, baby.”
Neither of us moved to say anything. We were both caught up in a silent conversation, never breaking eye contact. I kissed her again, slower, deeper, like I wanted her to feel how sorry I was.
Taste the sorrow I had felt through the years from walking away.
Her tongue slipped into my mouth as she continued to run her fingers through my beard, holding my face with her small hands. I groaned when her tongue went deeper into my mouth. As our tongues danced, I sucked on hers slowly while she moaned into my mouth, unable to take what she was dishing out.
Moving us from the wall, I went over toward the bed and gently placed her onto the bed, my body reluctant to let her go. She held onto me, staring up into my eyes, wanting to know what would come next.
I could tell that she desperately wanted me to lead her.
Tell her where I wanted her. How much I needed and craved her.
How I dreamed of the way her pussy felt on my dick.
The gushing sound it always made. Tatiana never got wet for me; she flooded for me.
Opened the dams and moisturized my dick with her juices.
Removing my shirt, I tossed it to the side of the room.
She remained on the bed; lust filled her eyes as she took every part of me.
Her hands reached up and slid down my bare chest, tracing the ink that now covered the old tattoos she used to kiss slowly.
The heat of her skin caused my body to tremble, making me look like I couldn’t handle her.
I couldn’t.
This wasn’t a regular fuck. It wasn’t one of those times when I drop dick into a shorty and send her on the way. This was my future––the one who I let get away. So, this was different for me.
I pulled up her dress, which was bunched at her waist, and slid it over her head. Stretch marks covered her stomach and sides from carrying life. Her breasts sat perfectly on her chest. They weren’t as full as I remembered.
They had nursed a child.
My child.
While other women were out there displaying their “Build-A-Body” physiques, her body remained as natural as I remembered. My lip trembled as I took in her body and quietly moaned. Tatiana did something to me, and she didn’t have to do anything or say a word.
I was in awe.
She stood there naked, not cowering or giving off any signs of self-consciousness. She owned her new body. The body that had birthed life, gone through life, and powered through. My baby was proud of her body.
“I told you I’m not that same girl anymore,” she whispered.
I bit my damn lip while staring at her. “You’re all woman, Tata…fuck.”
My eyes refused to move from the art that was in front of me.
My breathing increased.
My heart pumped.
She was breathtaking.
Years had passed, women had come and gone, and she was still the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
“Say something, Nazir,” she whispered.
“You killing me, Tata,” I said, my voice coming out so rough that I didn’t recognize it my damn self.
“Tell me,” she pleaded.
She wanted me to lead her, tell her what I wanted her to do. Her eyes told me that she needed me to dominate and give her direction.
“Play with that pussy for me, Tata.”
I stood over her, my legs shoulder-length apart, and watched as she fell back onto the bed.
Her legs opened, and I internally screamed while watching as her fingers found their way inside her and swirled around in the wetness.
Then she removed them and stuck them inside her mouth, sucking them clean while staring right at me.
“Like this, Naz?”
I bit my lip and nodded. “Stop playing and show me how you play with that pussy.”
I backed up until I was leaning on the dresser and watched as her fingers went to work. How she turned herself on and moaned while she continued to tease herself––one hand in her pussy and the other rubbing her nipples.
“Add another finger. I know you remember,” I demanded, and she squealed, doing exactly what I ordered.
“Hmmm,” she moaned as she played with herself like a DJ spinning a record.
It was taking everything in me not to run from the dresser and get in the bed with her. There was something about watching her please herself, with her eye contact directly on me. I imagined that she had done this many times before while thinking of me, but now I was here in the flesh.