Chapter 4
I d i d n ’ t s a y a word. I just stepped back and left the door open behind me.
If he caught the signal, he caught it. If not, I’d keep my package and he could disappear into the night.
Either way, I wasn’t about to beg a man to stay.
But the second I turned around and heard the door shut behind him, I knew he caught my drift.
My robe suddenly felt much thinner, and the tiny flicker of curiosity that had led me to let him in turned into a full-on fire crawling up my spine. Ahmad was fine as hell standing in my apartment.
He was tall, brown-skinned, and built like he hit the gym daily but the way he carried himself said he didn’t have to brag about it.
Tattoos stretched down both arms, peeking out from under the sleeves of his black hoodie.
His low cut was sharp under that black fitted pulled low, and every time he moved, his chains flashed like they had something to say.
The gray sweatpants left nothing to the imagination, the Jordans on his feet were fresh, and the diamond stud in his ear gave big energy without him saying a word.
I watched him take in the room. His low, glassy eyes bounced from the candles, the dim lights, the bottle of Patron still half full on the coffee table, and the muted laptop screen that had been playing porn before he pulled up. I wasn’t hiding shit.
“Cute spot,” he said, voice deep as hell.
“Appreciate it.”
He raised one brow. “Wanna open your package, or…?”
I smirked, picking up my glass from the coffee table. “Maybe,” I said casually before taking a sip. “I guess that depends on you.”
He smiled that kind of smile that said he knew exactly who he was and exactly what he had for me.
I turned the music back up a little. Brent Faiyaz's “Make It Out” was playing low in the background like the whole night had been waiting for this moment to cue up. Candlelight flickered against Ahmad’s skin as he stepped farther in.
“You want a drink?” I asked, walking toward the kitchen with the bottle.
He followed, hands in the pockets of his jeans. “All you got is Patron?”
“Looks like.”
“Guess I’ll fuck wit’ it,” he said, watching me open a cabinet.
“What do you usually drink?” I grabbed a glass, poured the liquor over ice, and slid it to him.
“Remy.” He leaned on the counter, watching me like he was waiting to see how far I was willing to take this. I didn’t flinch, not even a little bit.
“So what made you text me in the app?” I asked, watching him gulp down his drink.
“I was curious.”
“Uh huh. Sounded more like you wanted in on the fun.”
He smiled again and placed his glass on the counter. “That too.”
I walked past him slowly, my bare thighs brushing his jeans just enough to be disrespectful. I dropped onto the couch and patted the cushion next to me. Ahmad came to sit down, leaned back, and draped one arm along the back of the sofa behind my neck. He smelled too damn good.
His eyes locked on mine, and I licked my lips, taking in this fine specimen of a man.
The way he was sitting, legs spread, hoodie unzipped halfway, chains peeking…
yeah, he wasn’t all talk. He had BDE written all over him.
I reached for my glass, finished my drink, and set it back down.
He leaned in, finally letting his fingers brush my thigh under the robe just enough to tease.
“So, what’s the word?” he muttered. “I’m on whatever you on.”
My whole body buzzed. My brain said slow down, but my pussy said girl, if you don’t… I slid his hand higher just a little. “Your girlfriend knows what you’re doing tonight?”
He chuckled, gripping my thigh just right. “I’m single, mamas. I ain’t wit’ all that cheatin’ bullshit anyway.”
“I just want some good dick,” I said, meeting his gaze.
He grinned. “Yeah, I guessed that. So, what’s up?” That made me bite my lip.
“Alright then,” I said, leaning back against the cushion, legs slightly parted. “Show me what you’re working with.”
Ahmad looked me up and down one more time, slowly, licking his bottom lip like he already tasted me.
The tension wrapped around us like a heavy blanket.
I was wet, and I knew he could probably smell it.
He sank to his knees, pulled his fitted off and placed it on the coffee table.
Then, he gripped my thighs with both hands, and pulled me right to the edge of the couch.
“Spread that shit,” he demanded. I looked down at him. His face was all serious like he wasn’t here to play. I opened my legs wider and his brown eyes dropped straight to my center. “Mmm,” he muttered. “Knew you had a pretty pussy.”
“She’s so wet, too,” I said, breath hitching.
“I see.” He licked his lips with no smile this time. Straight hunger was in his eyes. “Lemme taste.”
And then he dove in. His tongue hit my clit with pressure, flattening and dragging slowly like he had time but didn’t plan to waste it. I let out a shaky breath and leaned my head back, gripping the throw pillow behind me.
The first flick sent a jolt straight to my spine. “Fuuuck,” I whispered.
Ahmad wrapped his arms under my thighs and locked them in place, tongue working me in smooth, practiced strokes. He licked from bottom to top like he was tasting dessert, then circled my clit with just the tip of his tongue, tight and fast, then sucked it with pressure that made my hips jerk.
I tried to close my legs. He growled and pushed them back open. “Nah, let me eat this mahfucka. Keep ‘em open, mamas.”
His voice and that grip had me melting. Every flick of Ahmad’s tongue was controlled. No messy, unsure movements. He knew exactly how to make me squirm. And when he slid two fingers in, curling them upward, stroking that one damn spot like he had it bookmarked, I lost it.
My moans escape loudly. “Don’t stop,” I said, breathless. “Shitttt,” I moaned. “Ahamd, fuck… yessss…”
“Mm-hmm,” he said against my clit. “Stay right there. Lemme feel you shake.”
I didn’t just shake. I exploded. My orgasm slammed through me hard and fast, thighs trembling, back arching, toes curling.
I clutched the cushion with one hand and his head with the other.
He stayed down there the whole time. Eating.
Sucking. Fingering. Making sure I didn’t come down from it too fast.
I was still gasping when he slid his fingers out and licked me even lower as his tongue teased the crease between my pussy and ass.
He looked up at me. “You good?” I nodded. “You want me to stop?”
I shook my head. “No. Keep going.”
That’s all he needed. He licked lower. Slower. Then he spread me just slightly and ran his tongue around my ass like he’d done it before. No shame. No hesitation. Like it was part of the meal.
My hips bucked. “Oh my god…”
Ahmad moaned like he was enjoying himself. That shit was a turn on. He didn’t speak right away. He just kept eating pussy and ass, switching between them, teasing me with his tongue and his fingers, wet noises filling the room over the quiet music and my ragged breathing.
“Yeah… let me see that shit open like that,” he growled. “You so damn wet.”
“Please,” I whispered, not even sure what I was begging for.
He didn’t ask what I meant. He just doubled down. Sucked my clit, two fingers stroking me deep again. “You feel that? Right there?”
“Yes,” I cried. “That’s it. Don’t stop, please don’t…”
“You gon’ cum again,” he said. “Don’t fight it.”
I came again. Louder. Wetter. Harder. My thighs clenched, but he didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch. He stayed down there licking me through the whole thing, letting me ride his mouth like it belonged to me. He only pulled back when I tried to close my legs for real.
“You done?” he asked, wiping his beard.
I was shaking. Sweat on my chest. My voice cracked. “Not even close.”
He smirked and stood up slowly, staring down at me like he’d barely started. And from the way his print was bulging through his gray sweats? I knew I was in for a time tonight.