Chapter 14 #3
To him, I'd be a drunken decision, a lapse in judgment. To me, he would be proof that my body could be devoured with hunger instead of obligation, and that meant more to me than anyone's hurt feelings.
Taking a deep breath, I didn't give myself time to back out.
I left the bathroom and headed toward the stairs before doubt crept in and started making sense.
Stepping off the last stair, I noticed the kitchen light was on.
My stomach flipped as I walked that way.
Honor stood by the counter with his head tilted back, lifting my bottle of D'ussé to his lips.
"Didn't I say don't touch the liquor?" I snapped, trudging across the kitchen and snatching the bottle out of his hand.
Honor looked down at me, amusement written all over his face.
I grinned, then lifted onto my toes and dragged my tongue slowly over his bottom lip, catching the last trace of D'ussé.
It lingered on my tongue, warm and expensive, but it was the way Honor's breath shifted that made my pulse jump.
I pulled back, keeping my lips more than a breath away from his.
"You said don't touch it. You didn't say shit 'bout drinking it," he evenly said, like my little stunt didn't move him.
But they didn't say the eyes were the window to a nigga's soul for no reason.
His dipped to my lips, tracing their curves before lifting back to mine.
Honor wanted me to believe he didn't feel the constant push and pull between us, and maybe he didn't, but the subtle way his jaw tautened told me enough.
"You don't need this," I declared and set the bottle on the counter.
"What you know about what I need?" he asked, and a rush of electricity shot through my core.
"Not… nothing," I stammered.
"Tell me what you know, Choyce."
"I don't know what you need," I admitted, peeling back the version of myself that always had something slick to say. "But I know the answers you're looking for aren't at the bottom of that bottle."
"Word?" He chuckled, stepping back and pulling one of the chairs away from the island.
He dropped onto it, legs stretching out, knees spreading just enough to leave space for me to step between them if I accepted the quiet dare.
"You nervous?"
My brows lifted. "About?"
His eyes roamed my face, taking in the blush I hadn't been able to hide. "Whatever had you runnin' upstairs?"
I forced out a laugh. "You think everything is about you, don't you?"
"I don't think anything is about me when it comes to you, 'cause as much as you think a nigga like me is the answer to your problems, you know there's a better man out there who can give you what you deserve.
" His gaze didn't waver. "I'm broken, Choyce.
Fuckin' with me won't do shit but reopen wounds you barely healed. "
What he said should've had me calling his bitch to come get him, but it didn't.
"Is that what you think?"
"That's what I know." He smirked. His voice dropped low enough to hum against my skin as he leaned back in the chair, draping an arm over the back like he owned the space.
"You're not broken," I whispered. "A little misunderstood and guarded, but there's nothing broken about you."
Keeping my eyes on his, I lifted the bottle to my lips and let the D'ussé burn its way down my throat.
The heat spread, settling deep in my stomach.
I took another sip, trying to quiet the voice telling me to stay still, but my body decided otherwise.
Honor watched like he could see every nervous fiber sparking underneath my skin.
"You have to stop doing that," I murmured.
"What?"
"Act like she's the only one capable of handling your damage."
His jaw shifted.
"I never been an acting ass nigga," he replied. "She is the only one who can handle my shit. She accepts me broken, fucked-up, and flawed like a muthafucka."
"Maybe that's the problem," I said gently, careful not to overstep and ruin the moment.
"She sees you the way you see yourself. That's a problem if she's really your person.
God pulls a man's equal from his rib, sculpts and crafts her in the image of the man she's bound to, and shapes her to recognize his strengths, not echo his doubts.
" I moved closer. "You weren't meant to be fixed.
You're meant to be exactly as your name implies… honored."
I moved until his knees brushed against my thighs, the contact was light but electric.
The air between us thinned with everything we weren't saying.
His hands lifted, sliding up my thighs, fingertips grazing just enough for my breathing to hitch.
They paused at my hips, then rose higher, stopping at my titties.
I stalked the way his exhales slowed, weighted with restraint.
His hands hovered just above my nipples, so close I could feel the heat of his touch through the thin t-shirt.
His gaze fell to where his fingertips almost touched, measuring the risk.
While he hesitated, anticipation skated across my skin, numbing every nerve until only he existed.
"Honor," I whimpered.
A question.
A warning.
Maybe even a plea.
His thumb brushed over the outline of my nipples, teasingly.
I sucked in a harsh breath, giving him all the permission he needed.
He pinched, rolling both nipples between his fingers until a gasp tore out of me.
My back arched instinctively, hips pressing forward, chasing the pressure instead of running from it.
My fingers dug into the edge of the island to steady myself.
Heat shot down my spine, and desire pooled in my shorts.
I licked my lips, lashes fluttering shut as pleasure swelled, and just as quickly as it came, it ended.
I opened my eyes to find his hands at his sides.
He leaned back in the chair, a small smirk at the corner of his mouth giving him away.
Push.
Pull.
"You don't get to decide what I can handle," I told him, my nipples throbbing where he touched.
"Choyce." That same knowing smirk curved his full lips.
"You nervous?" I asked, using his own words against him.
A low rumble rolled through his chest. "Of you? Nah."
"Then why do you keep calling yourself broken?" I asked, pushing my sweats and boy shorts past my hips, letting them fall before stepping out. My t-shirt followed next, crumpling at my feet. Leaning into Honor, I let the warmth of his breath brush across my lips before going for it.
"Honor."
His jaw tightened.
My lips coated his. "You're still here."
Another kiss. "Still breathing."
I pressed one last kiss to his mouth. "Still fine as fuck."
His breath deepened. Honor was holding himself back, and I felt it. I felt the tension coiling in him every time I pulled away, denying him a full kiss.
Push.
Pull.
Our breathing stilled heavy with a choice that would ruin lives and still feel sacred in the moment.
"Honor."
His hand shot up, palming pressing firmly at the start of my neck.
I gasped, and memories of him pushing a gun into my mouth flashed before my eyes.
His need for power and control danced in my thoughts, but this didn't feel like that.
Honor didn't squeeze. He held me. His thumb brushed across my bottom lip.
I opened my mouth, tongue flicking out to welcome his thumb before he pulled it back.
I sucked hard, letting it slip between my lips before slurping it back in.
"Choyce." My name dropped from his lips like he didn't want to drag me further into this than I already was.
I let his thumb slip free, my chest heaving as I searched his face.
"If you don't want this… tell me." His gaze held mine differently now, familiar but reaching places Talon's gaze didn't. "Walk away."
I stepped forward and took his hand, guiding it along the silhouette of my curves. His fingers flexed against my bare skin, echoing the throb of my clit.
"Never," I whispered.
The word settled between us like a vow neither of us planned to keep past tonight.
I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his jeans and briefs and tugged them down, watching in angst as his girthy dick recoiled in my direction.
My mouth watered, my taste buds already deciding he was my favorite craving before tasting him.
"This ain't a one-up," he gritted lowly. "This is me giving you what your husband failed to."
The quiet moment between us finally snapped.
His thumb dragged across my lower lip, less teasing and more accepting of what was about to happen.
Before I could overthink, I swung my leg over his lap.
His hands came up quickly, one catching my waist, the other coating my juices along my folds and tapping his tip against my clit. My body shuddered as we caught eyes.
His breath ghosted across my lips before they crashed. It felt clumsy and awkward, like two people fighting against the beat instead of riding it out. I opened my eyes, ready to pull away, until his hand slid to the back of my neck and gripped, holding me in place.
"Teach me," I exhaled.
His mouth softened first, calm but claiming.
He tilted his head, easing us into something smoother and laced with sin.
He deepened the kiss, controlling the rhythm instead of fighting it.
His fingers dug into my hips. Our breathing mirrored, thick and uneven, lips parted wider as our tongues slapped and drool dripped.
A soft hum slipped from me as I leaned back and stuck my tongue out.
"Ahhh!"
Honor gazed down eyes hazed in lust and unguarded. Spit dropped from his mouth into mine. I swallowed, then took him back in. Our lips crashed, harder, direr. Messy in a way that felt intentional.
"Sit." He fed me the command, and I obliged.
I eased down, and my fingers clung to his shirt as I learned just how little Talon stretched my pussy in real time.