MINE
Chaos. It reigned in Sadie and Supreme’s home. The two tiny tots they had were fifty percent of what the pair had in store. In-store it was. Sadie was baking a fresh batch of chaos with the twins. Irrespective of the fact, their present tiny duo did the work of double their presence.
Dolls, trucks, legos, and blocks all covered the living room floor. Sadie and Supreme had her work cut out for her.
Good thing Pre has the money to support them.
I failed to comprehend why they would want to add more to the mix. Sade and Trey were a damn handful. Sure, a child of Supreme’s own would be wonderful for the pair, but two ?
Sadie explained that the twins were natural, with a single egg separating once the egg was transferred but still, the logic and attraction were lost upon me. If they liked it, I loved it, at any rate. They seemed happy so far.
My siblings had enough children to persuade me out of motherhood if it ever became a consideration. That pervasive illness hadn’t befallen me. The loss of freedom, the burden on my time, and the strain on my body were enough to disenchant me. Never would it be me.
Ms. Ira, their nanny, ushered a wailing Trey and an excitable Sade upstairs while I assisted my sister-in-love with her garden. Supreme hired an entire team to construct a vision comparable to Versailles across the colossal yard. Though immaculate, Sadie still pointed out where adjustments were needed. Supreme fussed about her inability to let hired hands do their job, but I understood her need to be part of the creative process. Gardening was one of my secret hobbies.
Once free of Sade and Trey, Sadie waddled her way into a seat beside me under the shade of a magnolia tree. Sculpted topiaries littered a thousand square feet of greenery. It was stunning and one of the many reasons I loved coming to their home.
The scent of calm wafted into my nostrils from the right, urging my gaze to a growing lavender patch. A pitcher of freshly squeezed lemonade sat on a concrete side table nearby.
“I’m tired, sis,” Sadie fussed, pouring lemonade into two glasses and handing me one.
“Almost, boo. You’re almost there.”
“Mmh hmm. Almost ,” she agreed with a winded sigh. Our silence was broken only by the song of red cardinals. They fluttered and splashed in a birdbath nearby. Placid and comforting, the garden was a haven for relaxation. Closing my eyes, I basked in the moment of peace.
After a while, Sadie asked, “You sure you don’t want a few mini Serenities to occupy your time?”
Hell naw .
Drowning in the deep end of her delirium, I laughed.
“Girl, no . Thanks, but no thanks . I’m good with my nieces and nephews. You, Pre, Tori, and Saint will keep me perfectly occupied in my rich auntie vibe.”
I nodded to her swollen belly. She was carrying identical boys. The tally between nieces and nephews would be tied upon their arrival.
“I can’t wait to meet them, though, boo. And you’re super cute pregnant,” I added with a chuckle.
“You sound like your brother. He’s talking foolishness about wanting more.”
“More what? Condoms ?” I asked, knowing damn well they weren’t needed considering Sadie and Supreme’s situation.
Sadie broke into laughter and shook her head. “Supreme doesn’t know half the battle we’re about to be in with two newborns.
“Well, I’m here if you need me. Don’t forget.”
“Girl, please. Need you for what? Supreme already has a chef, a housekeeper, a night nanny, and Ms. Ira on standby for when the twins arrive. He won’t let me do shit, Reni,” she fussed. “I had to put up a tantrum just to get time in the garden. If he had it his way, I’d be on bed rest.”
“Well, if you need me to help you spend some of Pre’s money on one of your self-care days, I’ll be here for that as well,” I tittered.
Of all my siblings, Supreme was rolling, swimming, and hell, even drowning in his cash. After quietly exiting the drug distribution business a decade ago, he got into real estate development. In a growing city like Paramour, his success had been imminent. When he made his first legitimate billion, he never looked back.
“Yeah, Reni,” she laughed. Armed with pruning shears, she rose from where she was to snip around a juniper tree. “You help me do just that. As soon as I get these two minions off my bladder, I have plans for Louis, Chanel, Demure , and Loewe.”
“Amen. Amen. We love a shopping outing, especially when it doesn’t involve my money,” I tittered. “And Sadie?” I deadpanned.
“Hmm?”
“If you need a day at the spa before and most certainly after the babies drop, let me know. My brothers are so hell-bent on paying me for my services. They do so much for me. Comping spa time is the least I can do.”
“Don’t you do the same thing, Serenity?”
“What?”
“Pay for their services knowing they’d prefer to give it to you for free.”
My shoulders fell. “I do that because they never let me pay for anything.”
“Rich bitch problems.”
“You’re a rich bitch now, too, Sae.”
“Ditto. But as far as your brothers go, it sounds like you need to relax and enjoy it. Accept the princess treatment, boo . Isn’t that what you want from your person?”
“Girl, what fucking person? He doesn’t exist.”
Even as I vocalized the words, my thoughts involuntarily trained on Duke Stepford. Our last encounter, though unplanned, had leveled up my business pitch tenfold. Refreshing, the man was such a breath of fresh air. Being seen by someone who knew what they were looking at was so damn energizing .
“Serenity,” Sadie summoned me back to the present.
“No. Hear me out, Sae,” I argued, exiting a realm of obsession about a masked man in Genevieve . “I’ve accepted that I may just be single.”
My shoulders rose and fell with the confession. “Maybe I’ll become a hotep heaux like Badu and gypsy my way through life, including casual encounters with men. It’s not the worst thing that could happen.”
Sadie’s face did indeed read as it being the worst that could happen.
“You’re so judging me.”
“Serenity, I’m not judging you,” she laughed. “I’m just fascinated by your stance and want to understand it better.”
“A husband and kids aren’t what I’m after, Sadie. Understand that .”
Again, I pushed my point, hoping my sister-in-love would grasp it. Shifting to the plants beside us, I plucked a few lavender sprigs and placed them in my purse for safekeeping. The freshly harvested herb would be used in a bath once home later that evening.
“Then, what is it that you’re after? Make it plain for me, boo. I’m a little slow to understand how one adopts such a notion.”
I sighed and sipped my lemonade, imagining how wonderful lavender would be infused into the concoction. The stress of our current conversation forced me to recalibrate visibly.
“I know I’m not dating for marriage .”
The cringe on Sadie’s face revealed her lack of understanding.
“So, you’re doing the casual thing ?”
“No. I want love… but I don’t require it to look like everyone else’s around me. Why do I have to get married? Because society says I should? Sae, do you know how much I’m worth? I mean, it’s not near as much as my brothers, but for a woman my age, it’s impressive, and it brings out fuck boys hidden in designer suits.”
“Um–”
Waving her off, I continued foaming at the mouth.
“I don’t want to go through prenups, legal jazz, and all that. I just want to rest in the wisdom that a man wants me for me and not what I’ve accomplished. I know it’s unconventional. I’m rebelling against everything I was raised to accept and adopt. I want my story to be my own, not one someone else has written for me.”
“Okay.”
“And kids …” I grimaced, not giving her an opportunity to respond. Wholly, I was prepared to dole out yet another set of things I didn’t desire in relation to the topic.
“Serenity! Say less. I understand. I over stand.”
Sadie’s palms were up, surrendering and pleading for me not to knock her from her blissfully pregnant high horse.
“But do you inner stand?”
“Hotep heaux might suit you yet,” she teased, bumping my shoulder and prompting us to break into an easy laugh. “Just don’t start with that grand rising bullshit.”
“Oh, boo, if I become a hotep heaux, I’ma hit you every morning with the grand rising text.”
More laughter coated the greenscape air. Slowly, our chuckles dissipated like the dew on the juniper trees lining her garden.
“Before Leslie…” She swallowed, fighting against a ball of emotions to speak. “Before Leslie passed , it was the same kind of energy she was on. You remind me of her in that way.”
Steeped in bleak memories, she closed her eyes, shook her head, and put the difficult conversation to bed.
“How you choose to love doesn’t have to look like everyone else’s as long as it’s right for you and your person, Serenity. That’s all that matters.”
The Paramour Black Investor’s Conference never failed to draw a crowd. Suits . So many of them filled the ballroom at Gray Hotel . Vaulted ceilings and custom moldings paired well with glossy hardwood floors. Not the typical run-of-the-mill business conference, the event catered to the elites and in-the-know socialites.
Dressed in a burgundy calf-length high-waist pencil skirt and a cropped blazer, my appearance was highlighted in a sea of grays and blues. Secretively, I bought a ticket to attend the convention. Had my brothers known of my attendance, they would have deposited lump sums of money into my business account.
Leaving the nest had been more of a challenge with the trio of men than it had been with my parents. From the day I moved out at nineteen, Saint, Supreme, and Sincere couldn’t stand to see me outside of their baby sister. Ten years later, their stance hardly shifted. I had something to prove. Determination to prove it without their assistance was paramount.
Even if it meant schmoozing in a room full of overweening men .
A review of the conference’s program revealed all the registered businesses in attendance. Paramour had an excess of black companies, which contributed to the impressive blooming of black wealth in the city. An even smaller list revealed the investors registered to speak at the conference.
Atlas Investment Group
Colonial Holdings
Colonial Pipeline
Equinomics
Hermés Holdings
Invexco
Ramsay Realty
Solari
Trendr
After studying the short list of prospective investors, I developed a plan of action. An immediate decision was made to avoid the Ramsay Realty table. And maybe Colonial ’s entities as well.
The thought of Colonial led me down a rabbit hole of its owner. The masked man . Duke claimed he would see me at the conference, but the billionaire CEO had yet to fulfill the promise. While I hated to admit it, his presence was missed.
Most of the men I’d previously dated weren’t even on the same playing field as I was. A young, successful woman with all her shit together was a rarity. Being out of a man’s league provoked further insecurities. The ones who were on equal footing were boring, arrogant, irreverent, petulant, or plain-out hoes.
That was the risk of dealing with a man with money. Their dating pool was limitless. Their options were in excess. It lowered their bar while women foolishly tolerated their misbehavior.
Men like Duke Stepford. Men who wore masks and fucked publicly at exclusive sex clubs on stage. I was having the hardest of times combining those two men. Duke in daylight and Duke after dark were two separate beings.
Undoubtedly, I lusted after him, but the possibility of other women sharing those sentiments was high. With his figures in the billions, I couldn’t deny such a possibility.
While I hoped like hell he wasn’t a hoe, my thoughts were swift in berating and deflating me. He had to be. Fucking on a stage? Performing ? That fell along the lines of absolute and complete hoeness. It was the reason for the stalling. For my not calling the many numbers on his business card.
Asinine, it was thinking of a man I was vaguely acquainted with. Harboring feelings for a man I’d only met on a few occasions was beyond daft. Incomprehensible. Absolutely nonsensical . Alongside my foolish thoughts emanated an entire performance in my body. Seeing his company names on the list of investors triggered a pulse between my legs and a drumline in my chest.
Fucking ridiculous .
Tucking the drool away for a different time and day, I refocused on my environment. Keynote speakers would take the stage soon. My tardiness didn’t permit early bird networking. Armed with a welcome packet, I scanned the large room apt to locate a seat.
The current speaker, COO of Solari , droned on about the importance of continuing to build our community and fund black women. She made a distinction amongst the crowd, pointing out how few women of color were even in attendance. Awe-inspiring, her grit was something to be admired and studied. I’d already researched the company and decided they were one of my top choices for funding before the conference. Immediately after hearing the woman speak, I asterisked Solari on the list of investors as a table I wanted to visit.
An hour’s intermission permitted companies to connect with business owners in a separate parlor where tables were set up. Skirting past Ramsay , I strutted my way through a sea of eager entrepreneurs toward Solari ’s table.
Chest out, head high, and voice carrying my introduction was made. After thirty minutes of chatter about my portfolio and the success of the spa, I scheduled a date for three weeks out to meet with Solari ’s investment team.
Excitement reigned in my bones. I was on my first choice’s radar. It was exactly what I hoped to accomplish before leaving the two-day conference. As I made my way around the parlor, a growing crowd of business owners lingered near Colonial Holdings . The increasing herd captured my attention.
One foot ahead of the other, I strutted en route to the restroom. Vanity was my objective: to refresh my lipstick during intermission. A peep at the Colonial table didn’t immediately reveal anything of note aside from the flock of following sheep. Still, the curious cat in me longed to know what the hype was about. Upon return from the bathroom, I’d spin around the parlor to make the distinction for myself.
“ Miss ?”
I heard the call, issuing no response in return. There was so much noise emanating from the parlor that the voice could have been addressing anyone.
“Ma’am?”
A pat on my shoulder caused me to turn in the direction of the source.
“Yes?”
The polite usher smiled and swallowed. “Do you have your name tag? Confirmed paid entry to the event is required in the form of your tag. We also encourage attendees to wear it visibly as it helps with networking.”
Shifting my weight was followed by shifting the untamed hair of my bob behind my ear.
“No, where would I locate that?”
In the direction of the front lobby near the welcome desk, the usher’s hand aimed. Naturally, my eyes followed.
“If you approach the front counter and give them your name, they will provide you with your name tag.”
Okay . Fine.
Redirected from my first task, I headed in the direction of the front of the hotel. A small line had formed, causing me to take my place at the very end. As I waited for the souls before me to advance, I scanned the hotel lobby, eyeing the furnishings of the space. I’d heard a wealth of praise about Gray’s elaborate lodgings, but today was my first time experiencing a fraction of what the hype was about.
Our line moved as a guest, ahead of everyone, stalked away from the front counter. With six souls still ahead of me, my position hadn’t changed by much.
As I waited, my eyes probed the frame of the honey-dipped man ambling down the hall and away from the reception area. He moved toward a corridor painted black with ornate gold fixtures. In stark contrast to the other parts of the hotel lined with elaborate gray wallpaper, the hall was as peculiar as the man walking down it.
His frame felt familiar.
His gait.
The whisper of his scent.
The sea of waves in his hair.
That beard…
Duke .
Two weeks since our last encounter at Sugar Honey Iced Tea left me wondering if I’d run into him at the conference. Two weeks too long, I’d begun aching for his company. After noting his absence, despite his company’s presence, I relinquished the faint hope. It wasn’t uncommon for a CEO to skip the investment conference in favor of a day on the golf course or whatever it was that they did in their free time.
Dressed in basketball shorts and a white tank top that stretched across an unhumbled back, it was difficult to tell who the man was. Taut caramel muscles tore through the measly shirt, leaving little to the imagination. Easily, he could have been a mere stranger resembling the man I knew. My exposure to Duke Stepford only went as far as business attire— well , that and the few instances I’d seen him naked. The familiar man inching away from my line of vision was dressed in lounge-in-bed-all-day attire.
Momentarily, frozen, I mourned the loss of the obscure presence. Paired with a loss of momentum, the glacial sensation crept through me, unwelcomed, not unlike the day I’d met Duke. Not unlike our second encounter either .
Too nervous to mistakenly address a stranger as a familiar, I refrained from calling his name. Instead, my Tom Ford heels adopted a mind of their own and directed my body to follow.
The abandonment of my place in line awarded me notes of patchouli, toasted vanilla, aftershave, and some type of oil. The mixture created a festive reunion in my nostrils. A masculine concoction . It fueled my desperation and unfounded elation for the man I’d been lusting after for the last seven months. Paused at the elevator, he pressed the button leading up. As it opened, he entered without a glimpse over his shoulder.
Faultlessly and hastily, my Tom Ford heels continued to lead me. I prayed the destination wouldn’t result in my looking silly. With quickened steps, I made my way onto the elevator just before the caged door attempted to close.
Gray Hotel ’s opulence again boasted its magnificence inside the small enclosure. While gray in color, ornate gold covered every decorative inch of the Victorian-era-style lift, from the elevator dial to the numbered floor panel and even the legs of the black leather lounger positioned against the main wall. Antique luxury met contemporary, shaking hands for a vibe. The only evidence of modernity emanated from the swipe pad for guests or residents and the watchful eye in the sky.
Surveil or not, it didn’t stop me from locating the soul who’d earned my predilection.
It’s him .
My heart rejoiced at the confirmation, proceeding to drum up an afrobeat. It was senseless and relentless. I was hopeless. This burning fire between us was beyond ridiculous.
When I entered, Duke’s attention was dipped toward his phone. Sixteen days had passed since seeing him. Sixteen days too long. The sight before me lacked nothing but disappointment.
His arms were muscled, bearing the singular mark of the brand of his fraternity. That confirmed it. He was the masked man. There was no way it was a coincidence. The hint of a powerful tool dangled between widened, bowed legs, justifying the reason for his stance. On his feet, he wore red and green Gucci slides and white crew socks. The fuck boy hoe fit sported by a real man caused damage to the seat of my thong.
Wildly, my imagination roamed. I imagined grabbing his phone, holding his gaze hostage, sliding the phone away, and sliding my tongue in his mouth. Missing a man I didn’t know was wholly inexplicable.
Inexplicable and unprecedented .
So was the peaceful symphony of my heart’s steady drum remixed by heavy bass. It muffled the jazzy tunes playing over a speaker hidden somewhere in the elevator.
He looked up.
Surprise blossomed, seasoned with a hint of relief. Slowly, the elevator was moving, cruising us to a higher altitude. I noted the button “P” selected on the floor panel as our destination.
Penthouse .
Lips parted. Cheeks hiked. His eyes regained a flicker of life.
“Duke—”
I started, pirating the beginning of our conversation amidst his smirk. Two weeks away from him felt like forever. A passage of time I didn’t want to experience without his presence. On our first encounter, I’d failed to give him my number and hadn’t used his either. The mistake wouldn’t happen again.
“Bee. It’s good to see you, gorgeous.”
The raspiness of his tone was unfamiliar but not unwelcome. Immediately, his phone disappeared from his hand, slipping away into an obscure pocket. Freed of the distraction, his eyes committed to issuing a slow perusal of my body.
Silence, so raucous it filled our space, speaking the many things we both didn’t need to say.
“You disarm me.”
“Likewise,” I tossed, licking my lips.
A sigh, a twinkle in his eye, a whisper of a smile. He chuckled.
“Where you headed?”
His smile faltered, revealing a subdued mood. Slightly, he motioned to the elevator’s panel.
What’s wrong, baby?
My hands gripped the railing behind me, competing with the sweat birthed in my palms. Low and slow, my eyes blinked, and teeth dug into my bottom lip. With a step forward, eating our distance, I pushed my chest up and out. He wouldn’t mistake my intent. Not like before. Not after this. Another step forward left us inches apart.
“I’m contagious right now, gorgeous.” Lowly, he spoke, issuing the warning of a cold.
“I don’t care.”
Unhinged, yes, but I failed to locate a single fuck. I needed this man inside of me. Massaging me. Piping me. Riding me from behind like he’d done the woman on stage. The elevator slowed, coming to an eventual stop. Slightly, my stance shifted with the cessation of movement. Duke’s hands fell to my waist, the small gesture preventing me from falling. The scent of him was fucking enthralling. Instinctively, my chin tilted upward toward his faultless goatee. Toward a sprinkle of gray hairs foretelling of maturity. His eyes fell to my lips. Studious and lustful, his tongue emerged, saturating his lower lip.
Seconds slowed to minutes just as my heart’s tempo transformed into a slow jam.
Damn .
Between us, my hand succumbed to curiosity, quickly locating the wood between his legs and massaging a growing erection.
Perfect girth.
Not too wide.
Certainly not thin.
Fearful length.
Enough to rearrange furniture.
“Duke.”
“I’m under the weather, Serenity. I don’t want you to get sick, baby.” He issued the second warning as a breath caught in his throat.
“Let me take care of you,” I breathed inches from his lips, still massaging.
In response, his eyes closed. He blinked low and slow. Growing between my fingers, he growled, alerting me of the monster I’d roused. As I closed the few inches between us, his head dipped to meet my lips.
He made a bitch stutter. A kiss like melted butter. Warm, sweet, savory, slow. He set the tempo. It churned something inside of me. Gentle and studious, skilled and indubious. He set the pace, and I followed along. This kiss felt like a classic love song. A kiss that made my heart shimmy. Made my head dizzy. And he tasted so fucking good.
Emblazoning the pace with passion, I hummed and buzzed with satisfaction. It was a commanding kiss—urgent and dominating. He left no question if his dick performed the same. Pleasantly, leisurely, and messily, he stroked my mouth, making me moan. Making me slide and glide my fingers against his rigid bone.
Sliding a hand to cup my throat, his other squeezed my ass and forced a gasp.
Heavy, it was. His manhood bore weight in my grasp, amplifying my interest in the man who wielded such an instrument. The elevator began its impatient song—beeping, trilling, shrilling at us to get the hell off and on with our business. Duke, smashing the emergency stop button, ceased the one-sided discussion. His hands cupped and squeezed my breasts. The right first and then the left.
“ Mmh .”
He shifted us, pushing me backward as he devoured my lips until my heels hit the wall behind me.
Ignoring the lift, he lifted me instead. My skirt was hiked up above my thighs. I freed a host of helpless sighs. One thigh and then another, he grabbed ahold of each, freeing one hundred and seventy pounds from gravity. Hands draped around his neck. My legs wrapped around his frame, absorbing every inch of its stiffness. A masterpiece existed beneath his tank. My eager bones ached to see it. To feel it against me. Skin to bare heated skin.
Firm fingers crept to my center. Fingers endeavoring to stoke my heated embers. They ripped my thong and fondled my wetness, never freeing me from the kiss. Upon contact with my stickiness, he groaned into the shell of my ear.
“ Fuck. That pussy wet .”
“ Mmh hmm .”
In harmony and hunger, we bled.
Greedily, I rubbed my hips against him, hastening the friction of his attack. His fingers, two fingers, expert fingers, located the g-spot and tapped mercilessly on the famed place.
“I want you to cum on my fingers,” he whispered. “Can you do that for me, Bee?”
A weak “ mmh ” was all I could manage.
In a come-hither motion, he whirred me, spurred me, slurred my words, stirred me, and observed me. He roused me toward a surplus of ecstasy. In and out, skilled fingers stroked and strummed until my body hummed and buzzed. Until my clit thumped and jumped. A thousand deaths, I died with the pleasure he supplied.
“Good girl.”
Duke removed his hands, leaving me stunned to bliss and empty. Bringing them to his lips, he sucked them clean.
“ Duke .”
Tugging a condom from somewhere, he covered his length as it tapped below my ass. A foreigner in my own body, I could hardly identify myself in his presence. The angelic tenor of my voice, the mellowness of my limbs, and the scattering of my thoughts could all be attributed to him.
Threaded in every sigh, every gasp, his name dwelled right before he lifted me and slid his weapon inside. From heated skin to scorching skin, I felt him.
That first stroke— damn.
That first stroke hit like thunder, summoning my rain. The second stroke pulled a language from my lips that I failed to recognize. Feminized, zealous cries sang a tune of my eventual demise. Hands gripped his shoulders as he lifted me easily and repeatedly.
Up and down, my body rose. Forward, too, with Duke. We moved and grooved. Amidst a pool of pleasure and passion was a pussy assassin. He tore into me repeatedly. I watched him work as the lift disappeared from view in favor of a dimly lit penthouse.
Head dipped, Duke observed his handiwork as he raised me up and down. Fluid movements made me moan. Made me creak and groan. His hardness inside of my softness. He took me higher, just like the elevator.
Floor-to-ceiling curtains inside the penthouse were drawn, the air rich with lust and Vicks. Swanky accent chairs, the color of yellow ochre, adorned the living room, along with an equally modern black sofa with pillows that looked like spheres. The contemporary space was all a blur as my body was repeatedly hoisted up and down.
“ God !”
“—Ain’t got shit to do with this,” he grunted.
Ceaselessly and repeatedly, I was lifted and gifted the rigidity and fluidity of his stroke. Cannibalistic cries and breathless sighs fled me as he filled me.
Duke fucked me until we made it to his bedroom, where he lowered us to the mattress. Never leaving my well, he maintained a stroke. A thrust sure to make me combust. Growling and suppressing coughs, he slid against my walls. A performance worthy of applause.
“I’m supposed to be taking care of you right now,” I managed before he stroked me into a moan.
“You are— fuck , Bee,” he groaned. “ You are .”
Ankles to shoulder, he positioned me, granting him access to dive deep. Ankles to shoulder, he slid in and out my wetness like an eager marine drifted out at sea. Ankles to shoulder, and he pushed down on my lower belly, giving him access to the tip of my uterus.
“Bee, this pussy so sweet.”
Pulling out as swiftly as he began, his head dipped toward my center, where he proceeded to feast. Wild and relentless, his tongue licked and lapped. He spoke to my pussy, asking it why it was so plump and fat. Why it was gripping his dick like that. He sucked on my clit. He rubbed me to bliss. And when I made a mess of his face, he slid back in.
My blazer was ripped open. Buttons flew across the bed, and my cami was tugged over my head. Duke took a long stare at my pierced C-cup nipples and gathered both in his hands. He kept thrusting. Kept pumping. With his knees slightly bent, each movement drove him a little deeper. With fervor and ardor, he was hitting my walls a little harder. The feel of him inside me was pure, unadulterated bliss. I needed this .
I dug into his back, gathering mounds of skin beneath my fingertips. The rate of my heart doubled, then tripled against his relentlessness.
Splendidly and zestfully, he made my body quiver. Heavenly and steadily, his dick delivered. Adrenaline soaked me. Endorphins and oxytocin followed, drugging me. Ashamed by the swiftness of my second peak, I fought against the inclination to cum.
“Give it up,” he gritted against my ear as if reading every thought and not missing a single thrust. “It’s mine. I worked for that shit. Give that nut up,” he coached to the shell of my ear before sliding his tongue inside and signaling my demise.
“ Duuuuuuke !”
The limbs of my body went numb and stiff, focusing all its energy on my center. A tightened coil of tension gathered in my belly. All the blood, all the tension, all the feels traveled to the powerhouse responsible for distributing my gratification.
Pleasure spilled from my lips as I cried out his name. His hand fell between us, caressing the button to take me higher. He knew how to rub me in all the right places. Knew how to start slow and increase the pace. My body did as instructed, and helplessly, I erupted, my eyes twitching, legs trembling, heart racing, and breath shaky.
Duke kept rubbing my clit, prolonging the ecstasy, the devilry, the cries for clemency. Forcing multiple orgasms on top of one another, he rocketed me to another plane. It was insane. The man took me to a level of pleasure that felt both dangerous and inane. Eyes rolled backward, hands shifting forward, I begged him to stop. The nonverbal grasping of his arm was fruitless. He persisted in pursuit of every shred of pleasure contained in me.
“ Mine . This pussy. It’s mine now, Serenity,” he growled, signing his name with his movements and collapsing beside me.
Unwell, men scarcely knew how to care for themselves. Duke slept like such a man. A man in need of TLC. On his belly, snoozing, snoring, and drooling, he slept like a man deprived of energy. A box of Kleenex and a bottle of Mucinex rested on the nightstand.
Shaking my head from left to right in disdain, I rose. The initial intent was to cuddle and succumb to an inevitable cold, but my body had other plans. I knew better. Knew how to knock out a virus before it tried to take root. Against the heated floors of a bathroom with a walk-in shower and a claw foot tub, I emptied my bladder. Restless, my mind began compiling a list of things I needed to bring back to the penthouse to tend to his cold. Patting my kitty dry and washing my hands, the mental list continued to grow.
Oil of oregano, black seed oil, passion fruit, orange juice, ginger, turmeric capsules, mint tea, mint chest rub, a humidifier, soup ingredients…
Even with the slight disturbance of my weight shifting the bed, Duke remained knocked out. Matching his nudity, I snuggled and cuddled beside him. My head scorned me for being so open to a man I hardly knew. My heart said blah blah blah , bitch just, do you.
The inescapable desire to care for him silenced all reproach. Duke was worthy of my attention and deserving of my care. His energy had been unlike the other men I’d dated or slept with casually. This felt different. This wasn’t just sex. This would be more than casual. This was different. Wholly aware, something in me knew.
Mine .
I recollected the loaded word he’d uttered as he dug into me relentlessly. So many untruths could be told between the sheets. So many unintended slips of the tongue. So many things you couldn’t retract or outrun but this was far from one and done.
This ain’t that .
My heart argued against my head.
Tiny fissures, a river, and slight discomfort made the evidence of Duke’s presence heavy between my thighs. He’d fucked me long, soft, hard, deep, and undeniably well, but drifting back to sleep was not on the agenda of nursing him back to health.
Snores halted, signaling he was no longer sleeping. A single hand fenced around my wrist as I attempted to move from the bed.
“ Mine ,” he groaned, pulling me back into the bed.
“You just fell inside my pussy and staked your claim. That’s not how this works,” I tittered under the weight of his limbs.
“I didn’t fall in it. If I recall correctly, you came to me. Seems more like you landed on top of this dick.”
A chuckle was freed from my throat. “Suspended in the air…You’ve got me there.”
“I got you there?” He tilted his head and squinted. “I want you everywhere. I meant that shit. I want all of you. Mine . Exclusively. I’m choosing you. What do you say about that, Bumble Bee?”
I say, why the fuck were you hoeing on stage?
“ Genevieve .”
“What about it?”
“Is that your usual? Performing…there?
His eyes bloomed as the question was floated. Recollection coated his features, and a smirk pirated his handsome face.
“Nope. Never. That was a one-time occurrence.”
“Was it?”
“I answered you already. Now answer my question, Bee.” Stern and firm, he issued the command.
Beyond magnificent sex, there was undeniable chemistry. The kind that bent to his every whim and authority. The kind that left me curious about Duke, the man. Not the Duke after dark with kinks and quirks who made women squirt at his will. He was asking for more. Imploring me—us to explore what hovered between us.
Abundance . He reeked of it. Not just in his pockets but in his passion, in his mind, and in the way he spoke. Intense and thought-provoking, his presence, his words, his stroke, felt like a love song.
“It’s yours.”
“ It’s mine? I don’t want a piece of you. I want peace with you. I want all of you. Entirely and utterly. Wholly and thoroughly. What about that?”
The way he looked at me. The intensity. So daring and deep. It caused a splitting of nerves and a storm in my heart. We’d been slowly learning one another over the last month. I’d obsessed over what I had since been unearthed. It was impossible not to give in to the request.
Cheeks hiked, I smiled until they hurt. Warm and fuzzy pricked my skin. His gaze penetrated my limbs, causing heat and humidity within. I was embarrassingly wet. A throb erupted between my legs as I counted down the seconds until he filled me again.
“It’s yours. I’m yours , Duke.”
“Mine,” he grinned, dipping his head toward the foot of the bed. The feather-like, tingling feel of fingers against my feet forced spasmodic laughter to drown the bedroom.
“Duke!!!” I squealed, fighting against a mountain of pillows and a sea of a blanket to get away from his unprovoked attack.