Chapter 16 #2
And watching her do that, choosing shirts she knew I’d actually wear, not giving a damn that she was half-dressed while barking orders at somebody on the line—I felt it hit me.
This was no performance. This was what it felt like when a woman really fucked with you.
When she wanted you comfortable, wanted you fed, wanted you straight.
A few hours later, we were downstairs waiting for my father.
Coco looked flawless in that cream linen dress, legs out, fresh braids shining courtesy of Yaslynn’s plug.
She had that bounce in her step, like somebody about to touch sand and sun for the first time in too long.
I wanted this trip to hit right for her.
The Bentley pulled up, Pops stepping out first, sharp in his linen like he owned the damn island already. Then Karyn slid out behind him, smiling big.
“Colecion!” she beamed, voice too bright. “I’m so excited we’re doing this together. Girls’ trip to paradise!”
Coco’s smile stayed polite but clipped. “Paradise sounds right. And the company should be… interesting.”
That was my wife, never showing her full hand, never slipping. Graceful even when she was still feeling someone out.
On the ride to the airfield, I kept my hand on her knee, thumb brushing lazy circles while she eased into conversation with Karyn about the resort, spas, and vacation spots. By the time the jet came into view, Coco leaned into me, voice low.
“This is beautiful.”
“Nothing but the best for my wife,” I told her, and I meant it.
Once airborne, Karyn and Pops sat across from us, Karyn flipping through a travel magazine while occasionally pointing out activities to Coco. My woman curled into me, head resting on my shoulder, her perfume taking over the cabin.
“Thank you for this,” she whispered, her lips brushing my collarbone. “This is exactly what we needed.”
I pressed a kiss onto her hair. “You deserve it all, baby.”
The hum of the jet faded into background noise as I held her close, her hand resting on my thigh. I wasn’t just thinking about the island—I was thinking about the surprise waiting for her there, and how perfect it was going to be.
And truth be told, I was thinking about bending her over in that villa, too. About how the second business was handled, I was putting her ass in the sand, then the sheets, then anywhere else I wanted. She kept rubbing my leg, making it hard for me to focus.
“Let me show you something,” I said, pulling her up and leading her to the bedroom on the plane.
“Lesley, no, we aren’t alone.”
“I ain’t did shit,” I smirked, pulling her closer.
“Yet.”
Her mouth curved, and I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her flush against me. My lips brushed her ear as I spoke low enough for her alone. “I’m tryna eat my wife’s pussy a thousand feet in the air. The question is, are you gon let me?”
Her breathing stuttered, and before she could answer, my hand slid between her thighs. The heat and slickness waiting for me was answer enough. “Yeah,” I muttered, eyes locked on hers. “You gon let me.”
I lifted her onto the dresser built into the wall, spreading her thighs open. The sight alone almost took me out. She leaned back on her hands, lips parted, watching me.
“Do I have to be quiet?” she teased, her voice a husky whisper.
“This is our shit,” I said, dropping to my knees. “Fuck no.”
I buried my face in her pussy, slow at first, taking my time. I’d been hooked since the first taste, and I wanted all of it. I licked her like it was my last meal, tongue circling until her breath broke and she tried to lift off the dresser, running but never getting away.
She gasped, fingers tangling in my waves, pulling me closer. “Lesley…” The way she said my name was half warning, half plea.
I placed soft kisses against her, my lips brushing the slick heat of her pussy. “You taste so fuckin good.”
I buried myself back in, eating like a man starved. Every lick, every suck, every swirl of my tongue was deliberate. I didn’t want to leave any room for misunderstanding. She belonged to me.
Her thighs trembled around my shoulders, and when she tried to close them, I pried them back open, holding her steady. I groaned into her when she moaned my name again, the sound vibrating against her clit.
“Lesley—Grim—Les—”
I pulled back just enough to let her breathe, chin dripping, my voice rough as gravel. “That’s right. Tell the whole jet who owns this pretty pussy.”
Her head fell back, and her nails scraped the wood beneath her palms as her voice cracked. “Grim, shit—”
I latched onto her again, tongue stroking her clit in lazy, devastating circles, then switching up to long, slow licks that made her whole body seize.
She tried to push me away, too sensitive, too far gone, but I wasn’t having it. I pinned her hips down, forcing her to take every flick of my tongue, every drag of my mouth. The way she had taken care of me today, it was only right that I returned the favor.
“Don’t run from me, Coco. Take it. You can take it.”
Her moans turned wild, uncontrolled, echoing off the walls of the cabin. I switched my pace every time she got close—teasing, dragging her higher, denying her just long enough to make her beg.
“Please,” she panted, tugging on my shirt, trying to pull my soul through. “Please, Lesley, I need it—”
“Need what?” I growled into her, giving her just a flick, then pulling back.
“I need to cum. Please, baby, let me cum for you.”
I grinned, then locked on her clit and sucked, tongue working until she shattered, screaming my name so loudly. Her body shook so hard I had to pin her down with both hands just to keep her in place.
But I wasn’t finished.
Her voice broke—begging, sobbing my name, trying to catch a breath that wasn’t coming.
I eased up just long enough to let her gasp, then dragged her right back to the edge and pushed her over again.
The second one hit brutally, tore through her until she was clawing at the walls, trying to run from it.
I didn’t let her. I stayed on her, relentless, chasing her body. It was mine to command.
By the time I stood, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, she was already intoxicated.
Cheeks flushed, breath coming fast, eyes glazed like she couldn’t decide whether she hated me or loved me for it.
And I wanted her that way, ruined and rebuilt by me, with nothing left but my name on her tongue.
I cleaned her up, kissed her lips and neck, and whispered, “Let’s take a nap.”
She nodded, still trembling, and I carried her back to the bed. She curled into me without thinking.
Her breath steadied, her body soft against me. I stared at the ceiling, one arm heavy across her waist, and let it hit me plain—this was it. No island, no empire, no dollar amount could top this.
Paradise wasn’t something I had to buy or build; it was something I had to find. It was already in my bed, sleeping on my chest.