Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Rayne
DK’s unexpected vulnerability made it easier to share mine. We have that in common—to the outside world, we’re all self-assured and in control. But underneath the armor are small nicks and cracks, only visible to those we let close.
But there’s no lack of confidence in the way he’s taken possession. It’s been so long since I’ve felt a man’s touch that I’m extra sensitive, or maybe it’s just him. Because the things he’s doing with his tongue in my mouth and his hand beneath my panties are driving me out of my mind.
“DK,” I whimper as his fingers brush the small trail of my landing strip.
“I love hearing you moan my name. Do it again.”
“DK.”
On a groan, he steps me back toward the bed.
The king-size frame doesn’t just hold a feather-down mattress that’s heaven to sleep on. Its short, plush headboard has a wooden ledge that’s ideal for gripping—if it comes to that. And I’m hoping it will.
“What’s got that big smile on your face?” he asks, removing his hand from my thong and pushing me gently onto the cloud of ivory down.
“I’m happy. Excited. Wishing you weren’t still wearing your pants.”
“They can go.” He toes off his loafers, removes his socks, and neatly tucks them into his shoes. It’s endearing—and so him. He then unfastens the waist and shoves his slacks down, stepping out of them, and folding them by the crease over the chair.
Gray briefs. Narrow hips, round ass like two melons, thick legs, and when he turns back to me… good Lawd, the man should come with a license to carry.
“Better?” he asks.
“Mm-hmm.” I sit up, staring unabashedly. “You’re beautiful.”
“Stealing my line?”
“It’s a good one.” I reach for him, and he’s right there, kneeling before me, arms bracketing my hips.
I trace the ink covering his forearm. The intriguing pattern is dense—a maze of sharp shading and elegant, interlocking scrolls. It feels deliberate, just like him.
“What’s this design?” My thumb brushes against the dark edge near his wrist.
DK looks down at my hand on his skin, and there’s a subtle tightening in his shoulders. But it’s gone when he looks back up at me. “It’s architectural scrollwork used to reinforce weak points in a structure that carries too much.”
“I don’t see anything weak about you,” I say, cupping his bearded jaw and getting back to pleasure. I kiss him with greed and urgency.
He groans low in his chest, his hand lifting to my breast. “I’m a big fan of this bra… but I want to see and feel all of you.”
Obliging us both, I unclasp the back hooks. DK trails his lips along the curve of my neck as he slips the straps off my shoulders. The bra falls away.
“How are you this perfect?” he murmurs.
Heat rushes to my cheeks. In all my fantasies about how tonight would go, I hadn’t expected to like him this much. And even though nothing can come of it, I want him to like me, too. And I can tell he does.
He kisses my fingers, taking the tips into his mouth, attentive to the small stuff.
“I’m having the best time. And we’ve only just started.”
“So am I.” He plumps one breast in his hand before wrapping his lips around my nipple.
I cry out at the warm suction, my core tightening with each soft pull of his mouth. My hands move over his shoulders and upper back, learning the pressure that makes him groan the loudest.
He scrapes his teeth across the tip.
“Yes. Bite them,” I beg.
He squeezes my breasts harder and takes gentle bites of my flesh, the nipples, followed by cool breaths that soothe the sting.
Hollis never understood this part of me.
Never cared to learn how to inch right up to the edge of pleasure/pain and stop there—how to ride that line without crossing it.
And telling him always led to a fight, with him accusing me of emasculating him.
That relationship did more damage than I care to admit.
Enough that I swallowed my desires instead of naming them. Until now…
DK isn’t a man with a fragile ego. If anything, he’s attuned, attentive. Safe.
“More,” I moan.
“Like this?” He twists one nipple, while tugging on the other, with a deep, hard suction.
“Yes,” I cry. “It’s sooo good.” I know I could come just from the rough tittie play if he stayed at it long enough.
“It’s a crime,” he murmurs, “that you haven’t had anyone devoted to satisfying you.”
No man has ever said that to me before or made me feel this wanted. Releasing my breasts, his mouth travels down to my navel—slowly, letting me feel every flick of his tongue. Every nip of his teeth.
He kisses my stomach. All of it. The uneven patches, the stretch marks. The soft pouch and side rolls. He doesn’t hesitate or skim. He takes love bites, treating it like it’s a part of me that deserves attention.
When I’m writhing, needing to come so bad, it’s a desperate ache, he slides my thong down my legs and looks up at me with dark, hooded eyes.
“I’ve wanted my mouth on you since you walked into the bar. Can I taste you, Loo-nah?”
“Please,” I whimper, feeling the pool of wetness trickle down my inner thighs.
He presses my heavy legs apart, exposing me to his avid gaze, and groans.
“Mmm, you are ready for me.”
“DK,” I gasp as he lifts my hips to his mouth and slides his tongue over my swollen clit.
I’ve pleasured myself many times during fourteen celibate months, but watching DK kneeling on the floor with his head between my legs, eating me with gusto, sends my body into a quivering mess.
I fist his hair, pushing his head deeper, and wrap my legs around his shoulders.
My heels still on, only makes the image all the more wanton.
His muffled groans vibrate along my cooch while he sucks and licks in teasing circles until an orgasm rips through me—hitting like thunder. The sheer intensity of which sends me into convulsions and wrenches his name from my throat.
Not even letting me catch my breath, he continues to run his tongue over my clit, again and again, his hand reaching up to pinch my nipples, setting off another explosion. I damn-near snatch him bald as I ride his face like a wild woman.
He waits for me to scale the high and come down before he lifts his head. Then, licking the juices off his mouth, he looks at me with a tenderness that fills my chest. “Mnandi Luna.”
I feel my face heat again. I’m not usually the blushing type, but with him, I’m all giddy and girlie. “What’s mm-nan-dee?” I ask, carefully sounding it out.
“It means sweet. Sweet Loo-nah.”
Everything in me melts, warm and slow, like candle wax. But before I forget that this is only meant to be one night, I reach for the drawer and pull out the condoms I stashed there earlier.
Standing, he shucks off his briefs—the last barrier between us. He’s big everywhere. Beautiful everywhere. I kick off my shoes and crawl to the center of the bed, unable to stay passive with this gift of a man in front of me.
“May I do the honors?” I ask, ripping open the condom packet.
“By all means.” He meets me where I am, dragging his mouth up the column of my throat and along my jawline until he reaches my lips.
Our kiss is wet, lusty. But what it lacks in finesse is made up for in passion.
I love the way he responds to me—the breathy stutters, the rumbling moans, and subtle quake of muscles.
I trace the smattering of hair that narrows down his solid, round torso into the trimmed thatch surrounding his dick.
It’s well-proportioned, thicker than most I’ve encountered, and it’s straining so that the tip taps his belly, leaving a trail of liquid excitement behind.
I wrap my palm around him, and he thrusts into my hand with a desperate hiss.
I roll the condom over him and lie back on the bed.
He follows me down, bracing himself on top. His features are tightened with arousal, and his eyes are almost black and dilated with need. I wind my arms around his back.
“I want you inside me.”
“Loo-nah.” His voice cracks as he presses into me.
The instant connection is intense. Not just physically. Something more consuming, involving every part of me. I just met this man, yet I’ve never felt so completely aware of another person.
“I can’t believe you’re real,” he rasps, thrusting with slow, deliberate intent, spiking my desire to an outrageous level.
I clench around him. Every sensation is a building block for the next one. He knows exactly how to move, when to drill, when to swivel, how to angle just where I need it. How to push me right to the edge.
Relishing all of his weight that pins me to the mattress, my hands slide along his sides, squeezing those delicious handles.
He kisses my neck, my shoulder in between his grinding plunges. I love that. It’s sweet and hot.
My legs lift around his hips. Neither of us speaks. No sex talk. But I don’t need words. Our loud, gusting moans and the ravaged look on his face tell me everything—he’s as lost in the pleasure as I am.
When I’m close, so very close, he slants his mouth over mine with a scorching kiss and pulls out.
“DK,” I groan at the interruption.
“I’m not nearly done.” He turns me over. “I wasn’t going to miss this view.”
My ass is big, and I still have those moments of insecurity about it, but with him, that seems to have left the building. Feeling sexy, I grab the headboard, bracing for the impact I crave, and arch my back with my butt in the air.
“Damn,” he murmurs, “I could come just looking at you.”
“Don’t you dare.”
His laugh is an aroused rumble. Then, grabbing my hips, he cants me in place, and with one driving plunge, he enters me, pumping in and out.
Pleasure ripples through my core with every slam of our bodies. We go at it raw. Carnal. Our skin drenched, slick with sweat, our chests heaving for air.
“Your big dick was made for me,” I blurt out, totally unbidden, the raunchy words just pouring out of me. “I’ve never been fucked this good. This right. I’m soo close…oh God, DK… I can feel it.”
They must do it for him because he groans louder, squeezing my tits, tweaking my nipples, fucking me even harder—finding my G spot and every damn letter of the alphabet.
Thankfully, the headboard isn’t against the neighbor’s wall because the way it’s banging could wake the dead.
But neither of us cares as we race towards orgasm.
When his thumb circles my clit, that’s all it takes for the mounting tension to snap and split wide open.
My head thrown back, moaning in a pitch I don’t even recognize, I climax, tightening with a pulsing suction.
He lets out a string of curses, followed by the grunt of my name as brutal shudders wrack his body.
It’s a minute before he collapses onto the bed, bringing me with him.
We lay there leveled, our hands sliding over damp skin, calming, soothing.
He makes a satisfied hum, his hold lingering like he isn’t in any hurry to let go.
The thought of never seeing him again creeps into this place of bliss. What if—
I cut that thought off. This was meant to be one night. We’re both starting new ventures, and I don’t need a man-distraction while I’m campaigning. So many reasons for us to go our separate ways as planned.
“That was incredible,” he says, pressing his lips to my temple. “You’re incredible.”
“So are you.” I sink deeper in his arms, hanging onto this moment, knowing that soon all that will be left of it is an unforgettable night.