Chapter 13 #3
His eyes moved over me with a focus that made my nipples tighten until the rings tugged.
“Look at you.”
I swallowed.
Dre kissed the inside of my knee, then higher.
“You messy, baby.”
My thighs tried to close.
He held them open.
“Uh-uh. Don’t get shy after dripping all over yourself in my robe.” His beard brushed my inner thigh. “I’m gon’ clean you up first.”
“Dre.”
“That’s right.” His mouth touched me close enough to make my hips lift. “Say my name while I’m down here.”
The first stroke of his tongue stole the air from my chest.
My hand flew to the back of his head, palm sliding over his low cut because there was nothing to grip and I needed something. Dre groaned against me when he tasted me, the sound deep enough to vibrate through my clit.
“Fuck, Mani.”
I whimpered.
“You this wet from my voice?” His tongue moved again, slow and broad, gathering me like he meant to clean up every bit of what he had caused. “From thinking about what I was gon’ do to you when I finally got you alone?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl.”
My body clenched at the praise, and he felt it.
He lifted his eyes to mine.
“Oh, you like that too.”
“Don’t stop.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
Then he put his mouth back on me.
There was no easy way to survive Dre when he decided to take his time.
He sucked my clit into his mouth, tongue moving around the ring, careful at first, then less careful when my hips started chasing him.
One hand stayed spread over my stomach, thumb brushing the diamond at my navel every now and then like he wanted to touch every new part of me.
The other gripped my thigh, opening me wider whenever my body tried to run from pleasure it had asked for.
The wet sounds embarrassed me for half a second.
Then they turned me on.
My pussy was loud for him. Slick and open and shameless beneath his mouth, giving him everything I had tried to pretend I still had control over.
Dre heard it too.
“Listen to that,” he said against me. “That’s you, Mani. Wet as hell and still trying to act like you shy.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.” His tongue circled the ring again, and my back arched. “But I’m gon’ talk you through it.”
My head fell back.
“That’s it. Let it feel good.” He slid two fingers inside me, and my body opened around them so easily his curse broke against my skin. “Damn, baby. Look how pretty you take me.”
“Damn, Dre.”
“I know.” His fingers curled, finding the place that made my thighs start shaking. “I know exactly where you need it.”
He did.
God help me, he did.
His mouth stayed on my clit, tongue working the ring with the same patience he used for everything else when it came to my body, while his fingers stroked inside me like he had eight years of hunger and one night to prove he still knew how to make me lose my mind.
“You close already?”
I shook my head because lying had become easier than surviving the truth.
Dre lifted his mouth.
His lips were wet.
His beard was wet.
His eyes were not merciful.
“Don’t lie to me with my fingers in your pussy.”
A broken laugh left me, then turned into a moan when his hand moved again.
“Yes.”
“Say it for me.”
“I’m close…Fuckkkkkk”
“Yes, baby.” His mouth returned to my clit. “I want it.”
The pressure changed.
“I want it all.”
So did I.
My fingers dragged over his shoulder, then twisted in the robe beneath me because I needed something to hold that would not ask anything of me. Dre kept talking against me, low and filthy, every word landing where his mouth already had me open.
“That’s my favorite pussy,” he murmured. “Still sweet. Still greedy. Still cumming for me like she missed me.”
The orgasm hit so hard I cried out, back bowing off the couch while my pussy pulsed around his fingers. Dre held me through it, mouth still on me, tongue still moving, drawing it out until pleasure became too much and my legs trembled around his shoulders.
“Dre, wait.”
He gave me one last slow lick, then kissed the inside of my thigh.
I was still breathing hard when he stood.
His robe hung open.
His mouth was wet.
His dick was thick and hard between us, and my body, ruined as it was, still wanted to answer.
“Now,” he said, wrapping one hand around himself. “You can have dessert.”
My mouth watered.
Dre helped me up from the couch, but he did not give me time to gather dignity. He kissed me as he guided me toward the bedroom, letting me taste myself on his tongue, one hand low at my back, the other at my hip.
The bedroom was darker than the sitting room, city light slipping through the windows and laying across the bed in soft strips. Dre stopped at the foot of it and looked at me like he already knew exactly where he wanted me.
“On your back.”
I climbed onto the bed, robe open, body still damp from his mouth.
He guided me until my head rested near the edge, my braids spilling over the side, my throat exposed.
Then he stood at the foot of the bed above me, tall and dark and beautiful, his robe slipping from his shoulders until nothing stood between my mouth and all that hunger.
For a second, I only stared.
“Dre.”
He looked down at himself, then back at me. “What?”
“You know what.”
“Say it for me.”
I swallowed, but there was no pretending with him standing there, hard and familiar in a way that made my whole body ache.
“I missed your dick.”
His eyes closed for half a second.
When they opened, the heat in them had gone darker.
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“A lot.”
“That’s all I get?”
I reached for him.
This time, he let me.
The first stroke pulled a curse from his mouth. He was warm and heavy in my hand, thick enough to make my throat remember before I even opened for him. Dre watched my face while I touched him, chest rising hard, the composed man everybody else got slipping further away with every pass of my palm.
His hand settled beneath my head.
Supporting.
“Tap my thigh if you need me to stop.”
“I know.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know, Dre.”
His jaw flexed. “Open for me.”
I did.
Taking him like that, on my back with him standing over me, made everything feel more exposed. More surrendered. My lips parted around him, and the first slide of his dick into my mouth pulled a sound from him that went straight between my legs.
“Shit, Mani.”
I moaned around him.
His hand flexed beneath my head, giving me the angle, helping me take him without forcing me to. I could see him from beneath my lashes, upside down and ruined, jaw tight, abdomen drawn hard, eyes fixed on my mouth like he could not believe I was real.
“Look at you,” he said, voice ragged. “Lying there with that pretty fucking mouth full of my dick.”
My pussy throbbed.
He saw my hips shift.
“Yeah. I remember.” His free hand slid over my breast, thumb circling one wet nipple ring before tugging lightly. “You always liked when I talked to you.”
I took him deeper.
His stomach tightened.
“That’s it. Give me that throat.”
The praise made me hungrier. Wetter. Bolder. I let him slide farther, breathing through it, eyes watering when he touched the back of my throat. He eased back immediately, palm firm beneath my head, thumb stroking my cheek.
“You good?”
I squeezed his thigh once.
His eyes darkened.
“That’s my girl.”
Dre fed himself to me slowly, each stroke controlled, each retreat giving me just enough air before he slid back in. My throat worked around him, and the sound that came from me was messy and helpless and exactly what he wanted to hear.
His hand left my breast and moved lower.
Across my stomach.
Past the navel ring.
Between my thighs.
I jerked when his fingers found my clit.
“Stay open,” he said.
I tried.
God, I tried.
His fingers circled the ring with careful pressure while his dick moved over my tongue, and my body did not know where to put the pleasure.
My nipples were wet and aching. My pussy was still swollen from his mouth.
My throat stretched around him, and every rough sound he made above me turned the whole thing filthier.
“Softest fucking lips,” he said. “You know that?”
I moaned.
“Yeah, you know.” His fingers slid down, gathering wetness, then returned to my clit. “And this pretty pussy still begging while your mouth full.”
My hips lifted.
His hand pressed low on my stomach.
“Don’t run.”
I gagged softly when he pushed a little deeper, and his whole body went still.
He eased back. “Too much?”
I squeezed his thigh again.
Dre’s eyes darkened.
“Greedy ass.”
The words should not have done anything for me.
They did.
He moved again, still careful, still watching me, but the control in him was fraying. I could feel it in the way his thighs tensed, in the way his breath kept breaking, in the way my name started leaving him like he was trying to pray and curse at the same time.
“Mani.”
I sucked him deeper.
His fingers moved faster on my clit.
“Mani, baby.”
My hand wrapped around what my mouth could not take.
“Fuck, Mani.”
The chant of my name in his voice made my pussy clench, and he felt the wetness slide over his fingers.
“You hear yourself?” he asked. “Choking on my dick and still dripping for me.”
I made a sound around him that could have been agreement.
Could have been begging.
The room narrowed to sound.
His breathing.
My gagging.
The wet slide of his fingers between my fat lips.
The obscene pull of my mouth around him.
He pulled out before I could take another breath around him and kissed me hard, tasting himself and me together. I grabbed for him, greedy and dazed, but he caught my wrist and pressed it into the mattress.
“Not like that.”
“Why?”
“I waited too long to be anywhere except inside you when I cum.”
My pulse jumped.
Dre reached into the nightstand, tore open a condom, and rolled it on while I watched from the bed.
His eyes held mine while he settled between my thighs and touched the side of my face.
“You still with me?”
“Yes.”
Then he kissed me and guided himself inside of me.
The first push stole my breath.
Because it was him.