Prologue #6
“Good girl… hold still for me.” His voice rolled out low, a whisper dipped in smoke and velvet, filling my ear the way his body filled the space around me.
His lips hovered by my ear, breath warm, voice rolling smooth like a low bassline.
“I’m gone be gentle with you. Let me know if it hurts, wifey…” The words weren’t just whispered; they slid into me like silk, heavy with promise, Cali-cool but protective all at once.
I swallowed the knot in my throat, my voice trembling more than I wanted it to. My hazel eyes flicked up to his, wide but trusting, my chest rising in uneven waves.
“Okay…” I quivered, the word breaking like glass in my mouth, small but carrying all the weight of surrender.
I could feel his manhood pressing against my silky center, hot and insistent.
I didn’t know what to expect, but I knew I wanted him.
My breath came shallow as Ro leaned down, lips brushing mine in another slow kiss, his tongue tasting of smoke and spearmint gum.
I knew what he was doing—working me through the fear, pulling me deeper into him—but I welcomed it. I needed the distraction.
His dick pressed firmly against my southern lips with force, the tip sliding just enough to make my nerves spark.
“Loosen up them thighs for me, Star. You holdin’ me out. Don’t fight me—just breathe with me.” His words dripped into my ear, soft but commanding, wrapped in that lazy Cali drawl that made my chest flutter.
“Ssssss…” I hissed, the sound dragging slow from my lips as I tried to open my thighs wider for him. The burn spread sharp, like my body was split between wanting him in and wanting him out.
“I got you. Ease up, Nova. Don’t run from it—let me in.” His palm spread across my thigh, steadying me, pushing me wider. “This me and you. First time only feel rough ‘cause it’s new. After this, all you gone feel is me takin’ care of you.”
I tried to breathe through it, but any shift felt like it was ripping me in two. My mom told me about how the birds and the bees work, but this bee? This bee was stinging the hell out of me, and I couldn’t stop myself from trembling beneath him.
Ro kissed my temple, his voice low and velvet. “You mine now, Star. Don’t trip off the sting—it’s just the door opening. Once it’s open, you will be exactly where you belong. Breathe wit’ me, Star… let me slide you through this.”
“Ahh…” I whimpered softly again, just as Ro pushed himself all the way inside of me.
I felt the force of my virginity breaking as his hips collided with my thighs.
The breath caught in my throat like my lungs forgot how to move.
A sharp ache split through me, and for a heartbeat I didn’t know if I wanted to pull him deeper or shove him away.
My body trembled under the weight of something so new, so final.
We were one, now.
“You good?” He asked, searching my eyes for the answer. “I’ll stop right now if you need me to. You run this, Nova Star.”
“No. No. Don’t stop. Keep going. I want you… all of you.” My palm pressed against the heat of his chest, feeling every thud of his heartbeat like it was syncing with mine.
He didn’t waste breath on words—just dipped lower into me, rocking steady, slow at first then rolling deeper, filling every tight space I didn’t even know existed. Each stroke felt like he was writing his name inside me, branding me with every push.
“Ro…” My voice cracked into the dark like a prayer.
“I’m here, Star… locked in with you forever, shawty.
” His tone carried that unshakable weight, like the streets of Cali lived in his lungs.
His eyes bore into me as he leaned in, forehead touching mine.
“Talk to me. How it feel to you? Good?” He rotated his hips, dragging against places no man had ever touched, like he already owned them.
My gaze caught on the sweat breaking across his forehead, droplets racing down to his jawline.
The veins in his arms rose like thick ropes under his glowing skin, and my chest swelled with the impossible thought.
Roman Zore — my husband. Mine. Forever. The vow still burned in my ears even as my body trembled under him.
He must’ve felt me slipping into my head, spiraling in disbelief, because his hand suddenly caught my chin, rough thumb tilting me back into his line of sight.
“Come back to me, Nova. I ain’t lettin’ you drift off.” His voice was firm, every syllable dripping with grit and promise.
The pressure of his stare pinned me in place; hazel eyes locked to his.
“Don’t look away again, Star. Eyes on me. Always on me.” The command hit harder than the thrust that followed, but together they pulled me straight back into him, body and soul.
My eyes set gaze on his now darkened pupils and didn’t let go.
His thrust began to hit with more precision.
His hips rolled and pumped. I didn’t get a good look at what he was working with, but the way I was feeling.
I knew my husband was hung like a horse.
“Right there, right there. This feels so good. Ro, fuck. What’s happening?
” I quizzed, feeling the tingling in my stomach, the flutters grew stronger and stronger.
“Come wit’ me, wifey… ride that wave, don’t choke it back. Let me feel you.” He coached.
We moved slow enough to make the edges glow and quick enough to keep the world from knocking.
“Nova… Nova… Nova…” His deep voice rumbled like a lowrider engine idling in my ear, each repetition hitting harder than the last. The way he called me felt less like a name and more like an anchor, pulling me back when my mind tried to slip into the clouds.
My hazel eyes fluttered, rolling toward the back of my head as wave after wave of ecstasy surged through me. I wasn’t sure what my body was doing — trembling like it was caught between heaven and earth — but every nerve lit up like sparks on a telephone line.
“I’m right here.” His words pressed into my skin the same way his body did: firm, unrelenting, but tender at the core.
My legs shook uncontrollably, thighs quaking against his hips; my chest tightened like I couldn’t hold air, and if this bliss wasn’t tearing me apart in the sweetest way, I might’ve thought I was being called home to glory.
“Roo…. Husband… Right… Yes…” I chanted, as he sped up his pace.
Within seconds, I felt his manhood pulse inside my walls. His milky cum coating my womb. “I ain’t never leavin’ you empty, Star. Even when I’m gone, I’m still inside you. Always.” He stated, just as he began to remove his body from mine. Ro pulled my body into his just as my eyes fluttered closed.
“I love you, Ro Zore.” I cooed.
“I love you, Nova Zore. Forever.”
I didn’t realize I’d fallen half asleep. My breath still carried his, our rhythm not yet broken even in dreams. Ro’s chest rose steady under my cheek, his arm heavy around me like a lock that dared the world to test it.
But the world was bold.
Through the cracked window, the city hummed different tonight. Sirens farther off. A holler that wasn’t drunk laughter but warning. My skin prickled, though his warmth should’ve kept me calm.
I whispered Psalm 23 against his skin, barely moving my lips: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil…”
It was my habit when fear stirred inside me. He began to stir awake. “Nova Star,” but right now I felt more like Nova flicker—bright, yes, but trembling.
Because even wrapped in this love, even with the ache between my thighs marking me his in the holiest way I knew, something outside was shifting.
I heard the low growl of engines in the distance. Not cars—bikes. Too many to be friendly.
The fan spun lazy overhead, but the sound under it grew sharper, closer, like a hundred metal wolves circling.
I gripped his arm. “Ro… you hear it too?”
His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing as the glow of unfamiliar headlights cut across the blinds.
I wanted to sink back into the afterglow, into being his new bride in a quiet room.
Ro slid out of bed and threw on his clothes and I followed suit.
He peered through the slit while I stood behind him ready for whatever came next.
Across the street, under the pharmacy sign that only flickered on S’s and A’s, a Ducati Panigale idled like arrogance.
Gloss white gleamed even in alley light, gold detailing catching a thin line of neon.
The rider straddled it easy—clean bomber jacket, jeans with not a single scuff, white gloves that had never known a scrape.
Helmet visor up just enough to flash an entitled smile.
The city seal sat stamped on a ring when he lifted his hand to flick ash from a cigarette he wasn’t even really smoking.
Two other boys posted nearby, one tagging over somebody’s LOVE with a fat black LOYALTY, the other laughing like he owned a laugh track.
“That him?” I breathed, the warning already climbing my throat.
“Mayor’s boy,” Ro rasped, not blinking. “Little lie in a white suit. He been sniffin’ around spots he ain’t gotta bleed for.”
The Ducati blipped—quick, sharp, a flex. The rider’s eyes lifted right to our window like he’d been aiming this moment since noon, and he tipped two fingers off his temple in a salute that felt like a trespass. Ro didn’t move. He just lifted his chin a fraction and let his mouth crook.
“Keep fishin’, bleach boy,” he murmured, voice smooth as a snipe. “You gon’ catch a shark.”
White Lie’s smirk didn’t crack, but his shoulders did that small shift men do when they get seen the wrong way.
A patrol car oozed onto the block right then, casual as a cousin at a cookout, spotlight grazing the curb, not looking hard enough to be real police work.
The Ducati rolled its throttle like punctuation. The cruiser never even slowed.
“You peep that?” Ro muttered, disgust flicking across his face. “Handshake with the badge you don’t gotta earn.”