Chapter 8
Chapter eight
The Prescription and Poison
Dominic
The kiss was anesthesia and overdose at once—numbing every fear, flooding me with too much need to survive. It silenced the noise in my head, cut off every rational protest, and left me high on nothing but her taste.
The kiss was my diagnosis, every symptom laid bare: dilated pupils, short breaths, an arrhythmic pulse hammering through my veins, and an aching length throbbing against her like proof of my condition.
The kiss was prescription and poison, cure and relapse, the therapy I’d been starving for and the addiction I’d never escape.
This kiss became my confession, written in saliva and heat, every press of her mouth telling the truth I couldn’t hold back—I was sick with her, and there was no treatment I wanted.
I only yearned to drown in this exquisite disease.
She appeared startled for half a heartbeat, then gave back—her lips parting, breath catching, a sound low in her throat that made my heart thud against her palm where it rested on my chest. She tasted like citrus and something sweet, like laughter after drought.
When her tongue met mine, I made a sound I didn’t recognize.
The kiss was so hot.
Forbidden.
Power.
Release.
My hands settled at her hips and found purchase, fingers pressing into soft fabric and softer flesh.
I lifted her.
She gasped and wrapped her legs around my waist.
Then, I carried her to the tiny kitchen table and shoved my books to the floor. They fell in dull thuds.
I kissed her again—slower, deeper—charting each angle like a surgeon learning sacred anatomy. Every stroke of my tongue was a diagnostic test, every press of her lips a vital sign I catalogued: oxygen low, pulse racing, fever high.
She was the patient and the cure, the illness and the remedy, and I was a doctor who never wanted recovery.
Dear God, she tastes so good.
Her fingers slid into my damp hair and tugged, and the sound that caught in her throat broke something open in me.
“Dominic,” she whispered against my mouth, as if giving me a secret. “God.”
I pressed her back an inch, just enough to look at her gorgeous face. Those pupils were wide. She was breathing like she’d run here.
“Do you know how long I have wanted to kiss you?”
Shock filled her gaze.
Not giving her any more time to think about it, I dragged my mouth along her jaw, then lower, tasting the salt at her throat, the heat where her pulse jumped under my tongue.
She arched, hands sliding over my shoulders, nails biting, claiming.
The towel at my waist shifted; her palm skimmed down to the bulge of my cock and trembled.
Fuck yes. Touch it.
Then her fingers curved over the thick length, stroking me in a way that was far too knowing.
Christ. She’s only touching it, yet driving me crazy.
She wasn’t fumbling. She wasn’t shy. She knew exactly how to grip the base, how to drag her palm up slow so the terrycloth rasped across the ridge of my cock until I almost doubled over.
I hissed through my teeth. “Fuck, Teyonah.”
Her eyes flicked to mine—dark, wide, trembling. She was touching me like she already knew how to undo me. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to touch this?”
Dear God.
The towel shifted lower with every stroke, loosening against my hips. Then she tugged it, casual and sharp at once, and it fell to the floor with a heavy, damp slap.
Yes.
My cock sprang free, thick and hard, curving high against my stomach, the swollen head dripping for her.
Teyonah parted her lips, and a low sexy sound spilled out. “Damn. . .”
Her gaze locked on my length.
My grin curved dark. “You like it?”
“I love it.”
I cupped her jaw, tilting her face up toward mine while her hand still circled the base of me and her thumb slid over the thick vein like she couldn’t help herself.
“You want to talk about what happened in the backyard? You see my cock now,” I whispered against her mouth, voice rough with hunger.
And all my obsession came out in confessions.
“You see how big it is. You feel how hard I am. That’s what you do to me, Teyonah.
Every time you walk by me in your skirts.
Every time you laugh. Every time you hand me a sweater like I’m just some boy you want to take care of and love.
You make me ache like this. You make me leak for you. ”
Her lashes fluttered. Her lips trembled against mine, but her fist stroked me harder, slick from the pre-cum that painted her palm. “Dominic, fuck. . .I’m trying to be good. Don’t say this stuff.”
“I don’t want to stop.”
“But, I can’t control myself.”
“Fuck control.”
She shook her head, even as her palm stroked harder. Her voice cracked, guilt and craving tangled in every syllable. “This is wrong. We shouldn’t. . .but I can’t stop.”
Pleasure hummed through my body. “Oh, Teyonah.”
I yearned to kiss her hand as she gripped me, worship each knuckle for daring to hold what no one else had ever touched right.
Her hand tightened around me, her voice dropping low. “Don’t think you’re the only one who’s been starving all this time, Dominic.”
“Good. Then, let’s stop starving. Let’s feed each other.” I began to caress those thick thighs. “I need this. You need this.”
Moaning, she jacked my cock. “Dominic.”
I groaned low in my throat and rocked my hips. “Mmm. . .that’s it. Stroke me just like that. God, you’re perfect. You know how to touch my cock, don’t you? You know how to make me lose my mind.”
“Oh.” Her moan deepened, and she gave a slow squeeze that made my vision blur. Never had any woman touched my cock this way. I’d only had three others but none even knew how to hold it.
Meanwhile, she gripped it like a pro.
“Oh fuck!”
“The kids are upstairs,” She whispered it like a warning, but her hand never left my cock.
“I don’t give a fuck who’s upstairs. You’re mine. You’ve been mine since the first time I saw you.” I dragged my mouth along her ear, letting the words rasp hot against her skin. “I want to put my cock deep inside you. I want to split you open.”
She whimpered, grinding her palm against the mushroomed head, smearing the wetness over my swollen crown. “You like that? Don’t you?”
“Goddamn,” I growled. “Yes.”
“You’re so nasty.”
“Because you’re so fucking sexy. All I do is think about how much I want to fuck you—”
“Damn.” Her eyes widened in shock at my confession.
“Ever since I signed the lease, I wanted to lick your pussy. I tried to deny it, but now I know.”
“You want to lick this pussy, baby?”
“God yes.”
Then, a sound came from upstairs. “Mommy!”
We froze.
Fuck. No. Please no. Not right now.
From the ceiling, small feet pattered.
Then Oliver’s voice rang out, clear and proud. “Mommy, we finished brushing our teeth. We’re ready for the story!”
The world dropped back into place like a trap.
Goddamn it!!!!
While I cared for Oliver very deeply, in this moment I wanted to scream curses at him.
Oliver, read the book yourself and let me fuck your mommy tonight.
“Mommy!” Oliver yelled some more. “Where are you?!”
Teyonah’s eyes flew wide. We were still fused together, breath mingling, hearts a mess. For one wild second neither of us moved—like the apartment itself begged for one more kiss, one more bad decision.
She swallowed and let go of my cock. “I—”
“No. . .”
Her voice cracked. “I have to—”
“I know.”
Still, I didn’t let go of her.
Not yet.
I kissed her one more time, deep and slow.
“Mommy?!”
Come on, Oliver. Give us a break.
I stepped back and then helped her off the table. I didn’t even attempt to get my towel off the floor. My length remained bulging and erect between us.
Straightening her pajamas, she glanced down at my cock, looked up, and then blinked. “I’ll uh. . .see you. . .again. . .”
“You’re so damn sexy. Come back tonight. I want to fuck you.”
She stared at me. “What?”
“After the story and you’ve tucked them in bed,” I licked my lips. “Come back and tuck me in bed too.”
Her throat worked. For a heartbeat I saw the fight in her—the mother, the woman, the rules, the need. Then she whispered, “Fuck.”
“Mommy? Are you okay?! J, Mommy is gone! She left!” The shout hit from upstairs, Oliver’s small voice cutting through the basement ceiling.
Oh God.
Teyonah froze in my arms. My erection was straining, angry and slick, but the sound of her boy’s voice cracked the air like a whip. Her eyes went wide, panic and heat warring inside them.
I didn’t move.
Couldn’t.
The predator in me wanted to pull her closer, cover her mouth with mine, and finish what we’d started. But the man—the one who wanted her whole, safe, and smiling—knew better.
She swallowed, then lifted her chin toward the stairs. “Oliver! I’m down in the basement with Dominic! I’ll be right back! Go to your room and I’ll read to you!”
The words made something savage stir inside me. She’d said my name. Told her son exactly where she was. Claimed being here with me like it wasn’t shameful, like it was natural. My cock twitched. Precum dripped out for her.
Silence.
Then Oliver’s voice rang again, calmer now. “Okay, Mommy! Hi, Dom!”
I was so hard it was difficult to speak coherent words, but somehow I did. “Hey, Oliver! Be good for your Mommy and wait for her in your room!”
“Night, Dom!”
“Night!”
His little feet pattered across the ceiling, the quick rhythm of a boy running back to his room. Each thump grew lighter, fainter, until the upstairs quieted.
Teyonah exhaled, her shoulders dropping with relief.
But me?
Relief never came.
The second his footsteps faded upstairs, the silence pressed hotter, harder. My body hadn’t cooled—it had ignited.
She stayed in my arms even after calling my name, and that choice was epinephrine to my bloodstream—accelerant and shock all at once, spiking my vitals, driving my obsession into cardiac arrest.
The danger of us getting caught hadn’t stopped me.
It had made me hornier.
I was burning, every vein hot, chest rising and falling too hard. I stared at her, jaw tight, my length jerking against the space between us. She had no idea what that did to me—her choosing to stay here, to keep her body against mine even after her son had called.
“You told him where you were,” My voice went low and dangerous. “With me.”
Her lips parted, eyes flashing heat and fear.
And I knew it then—no matter how fast her boy’s feet ran upstairs, she wasn’t running.
Not from me.
Not yet.
She tried to back away. “So. . .this got out of hand and I should go.”
“No.” I grabbed her wrist and yanked her close to me. “Wait—”
“Dominic, I should go—”
“Not yet. We have a little bit of time—”
“We don’t. And. . .I went too far. I. . .I came down to say thank you and ask you not to jack off in the backyard. I. . .did not come down to. . .do this—”
“You came down here because you liked what you saw in the backyard and wanted to fuck—”
“I did not—”
“You did. Admit it.”
“Fine.” Her voice cracked, guilt and hunger wrapped tight. “I shouldn’t want this, Dominic. But God, I crave it anyway.”
“We’re both adults. There’s nothing wrong with this.”
“I’m more adult than you are—”
“I don’t care about that. Do you know what I care about?”
“What?”
“You’re a goddess, Teyonah. Men should beg just to kiss your hand. And here you were. . .touching me like you already own me. I’m not letting you go after that.”
She shivered in my grip.
“You called my name. You told him I was with you. Do you know what that did to me? You claimed me without even meaning to. Don’t walk away from that.”
“Dominic—”
“Stay for a few minutes. . .be my Mommy tonight.”