5. Daddy’s Home
Camilla’s bedroom looked exactly like what I imagined a peaceful life would feel like. She had tons of windows that brought in natural sunlight and had a cream color scheme. She had a vanilla-scented candle burning low on the dresser. Soft music still drifted in faintly from down the hallway.
That was what drew me to Milla. She exuded peace and light.
Even during the darkest and most trying times of my life, she always felt like home.
Now I was standing in her home, and she was entrusting me with her greatest treasure—both her body and her trust. Camilla made me think about words like home, future, and peace like they belonged to me, too.
I set her down carefully in front of the bed, but before I could say anything, her hands slid up my chest again.
Her hands were tender and certain. There was no hesitation coming from her as if she wasn’t scared of loving me.
Her eyes moved over my face slowly, taking me in with this tenderness I still didn’t believe I deserved.
“Why are you still looking at me like that?” she whispered.
“Like what?”
“Like you can’t believe I’m real.”
I exhaled slowly through my nose.
“Because I can’t.”
Camilla touched the gray in my beard gently before smiling. “You got more distinguished for me, Jare.”
She laughed quietly, but it turned to pants the second my hands settled against her hips again.
I had spent years imagining touching her without limits, wondering what it would be like being alone with her without guards or timers.
Now she stood in front of me, full of lust and looking at me like I was still worthy of softness after everything the world had made me survive. It damn near overwhelmed me.
Her expression softened. “Talk to me. If I’m being too forward, I’ll stop, Jare.”
“Milla, cut the shit. You’re gonna get your guts rearranged, but—” I looked away briefly toward the window because vulnerability still sat wrong in my chest after prison.
Men inside learned real fast that emotions could get you hurt.
But this was Camilla. And she had already seen every broken part of me anyway.
“It’s just that I used to dream about this house,” I admitted quietly.
Her brows lifted slightly.
“Not even on no sexual shit at first.” I laughed once under my breath. “I used to imagine stupid things.”
“Like what?”
I swallowed hard.
“You cooking for all of us. Demir yelling from another room, and you falling asleep on me during movies, and me fixing shit around the house.”
Camilla’s eyes watered. I wiped beneath one of them gently with my thumb before it could fall.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“For you having to imagine a life you should’ve been living if it wasn’t for your mom and the fucked up system.”
I sat on the bed, and I kissed her before she could say anything else because if I let her keep talking like that, I was liable to break apart right here in this woman’s bedroom.
Years of restraint started cracking open all over again the second she climbed into my lap willingly.
My hands gripped her thighs harder. Her breath caught against my mouth.
“Jare…”
The way she said my name nearly ruined my self-control completely. I carried her toward the dresser while her laughter at me lifting her filled the room.
“You’re smiling too much,” I muttered against her neck.
“Because I’m happy.”
That simple answer hit me harder than it should have. I couldn’t remember the last time I heard somebody use that word around me without guilt attached to it.
Camilla cupped my face gently before kissing me again.
Then, slower now, more intimate than desperate, she began peeling pieces of my armor away one layer at a time.
My zip-up jacket first, then she lifted up the beater I had on underneath it.
Her hands moved across my chest carefully.
I watched her eyes move over the tattoos ink faded by time.
Camilla touched everything gently. Never flinching at scars from protecting myself over the years.
Her touch was healing, not pitying, just loving me.
“You still trying to hold back?” she whispered softly.
I laughed under my breath. “Baby, you have no idea how hard I’m trying not to scare you.”
That made her eyes darken immediately. Then she leaned close enough for her lips to brush my ear. “Jare,” she whispered, “I need you to stop treating me like something fragile.”
My hands tightened instinctively against her waist. And when she kissed me again after that? Whatever discipline prison taught me started disappearing fast.
Her hands gripped the dresser in anticipation as she stared at me with desire in her beautiful light brown irises.
“Milla, take off your top.”
She obeyed instantly and removed her quarter zip with a quickness. I leaned forward and, with one hand, unlatched her bra, freeing her beautiful, large titties.
“Lift up for me, baby.”
She used her hands to press her body upwards, allowing me to drag her panties and pants off of her. When she relaxed back on the dresser, she shifted her wanting gaze back to me.
I knelt before her and took her foot in my hand.
“While I suck on these pretty toes, touch yourself, Milla.”
She obliged by parting her legs, so I had a front seat view of the prettiest pussy I had ever seen.
She added a finger into herself. I lifted her leg and caressed her thigh as I put her right foot into my mouth.
I sucked gently on each toe, kissing and massaging her thigh as I watched Milla’s juices begin spilling down her leg.
Before I alternated to her left, I licked up her essence from her thighs.
The feel of my tongue made her shiver and cry out in pleasure.
“Don’t stop playing in my shit, baby.”
She inserted a second finger into her pussy as I sucked the toes on the left foot. I could feel her toes curl in my mouth as her first orgasm ripped through her petite frame. Milla’s mocha brown skin glistened as her pouty lips cried out from ecstasy.
“Jared, I’m cummmiiiinggg!”
I leaned up to her mound and sucked her orgasm from her.
I’d be damned if any of her juices ended up wasted.
After drinking from her, I inserted my tongue inside of her and breathed in her citrus scent.
Camilla smelled of pineapple and oranges as if she were training for this moment.
I thrust my tongue in and out of her as I sucked on her clit.
“Jare baby…Jare, please.”
I took her moans to mean she needed me to go deeper, so I obliged and inserted my finger in her juices, getting it coated with her wetness. The intrusion made her cry out louder.
Milla rubbed her hands through my hair and pulled on my beard. She was so restless, she didn’t know what to do with her hands.
I took a break from feasting to give her directions. “Pull on them titties for me.”
“Yessss, baby,” she crooned.
As she followed instructions, I guided her off the dresser. She reached for my pants.
“Jare, take this shit off.”
“Anything for my Millie Millz,” I winked at her. I pulled my shit down. My dick sprang to attention from seeing my baby naked and ready for me.
Milla’s mouth watered as she reached for my fully erect dick. She stroked it wantingly.
“I see that look in your eyes, baby. There will be plenty of time for you to give me head. Right now it’s about you, love.”
She groaned as if my words upset her. As much as I wanted my dick inside of that pretty mouth of hers, I needed her to feel special and cherished.
I needed her to feel my longing and desire for every part of her body.
I dreamed of reverencing every part of her for years.
I needed her to allow me to taste every part of her.
I guided Milla to the bed and pushed her legs open so they could rest on either side of me.
I straddled her and began sucking on her neck.
She panted underneath me as I left deep passion marks on her neck.
I couldn’t fight the urge I had inside to mark her with my passion.
Milla was mine, and I needed her to feel that when she went to work tomorrow.
As I worked my way down her body, I admired her beautiful titties.
She had spoken about how self-conscious she was about them over the years.
She wanted a mommy makeover. While I wanted my baby to do whatever made her heart happy, I told her not to change a thing about herself until I could worship the body God gave her, and I’m grateful she obliged.
The sight of them made precum ooze out of my dick.
As soon as I placed the left one in my mouth, she cried out and began arching her back.
I love that Milla was so responsive to my touch.
I rolled the right nipple into my fingertips while I pulled and nipped on her nipple.
The pleasure and pain of it had her wrapping her legs around my shit, trying to get me to slide into her wet pussy.
As much as I wanted to oblige, I needed to make her wait.
We had the rest of our lives, and I wasn’t about to rush this shit.
My baby had gold between her thighs, and I needed her fully relaxed before I beat those walls in.
I continued to lick and suck on her large areolas as she kissed my forehead over and over.
Milla was so overstimulated with pleasure, and that made a Nigga feel good.
“Jare baby, please… please,” she moaned out. “Please fuck me.”
Her wetness was leaving a puddle underneath her on the bed, and I knew that my baby couldn’t take any more teasing.
I rubbed the tip of my shit on her pussy lips, and Milla began to thrust her hips into my dick to feel me.
I held her waist and began to push inside her.
The feel of her tight walls overtook me.
She called out my name as I pumped my dick inside of her.
As good as she felt, Millie Millz was so tight that I couldn’t fit all of me in.
“Milla baby, you can take it, baby. Open up and relax for me, Mama.”
“Fuckkkkkk Jare.”
As I slid further inside of her, I looked her in the eyes, “Repeat after me, I can take everything my man has for me.”
Her breaths were ragged as she moaned through the affirmation I gave her.
“That’s right, Baby Girl, now let your man paint your walls.”
She relaxed as I guided the rest of my dick inside her. I guided her legs over my head and began to fuck her deeper and harder.
“Jare…. Jare, please…”
“What did I tell you, Milla?”
“Uhhh,” she moaned, “that I…. I can take everything my man ….uhhhh my man has for me.”
“That’s right, Milla, now cum for your man.”
Right on cue, her waterfall overtook my shit, and I painted her womb with my seed, praying that Milla and I could expand the family we were building.
Afterward, Camilla rested against my chest, breathing hard while I held her.
Neither of us spoke right away. Camilla refused to let me go after that.
Every time I tried to retreat back into myself a little, she pulled me right back out with soft touches and those damn knowing eyes.
I sat at the edge of her bed while she stood between my knees, running her fingers through the back of my hair slowly.
The room now smelled like vanilla candles, sweat, and her perfume.
Camilla climbed into my lap slowly after that, wrapping her arms around my neck while I leaned back against the headboard with her settled against my chest.
And for the first time since I’ve been home, I really relaxed. I felt no tension in my shoulders. I wasn’t listening for footsteps or counting down time. I was just focused on her breathing against my neck.
The room stayed quiet except for the low hum of the ceiling fan and old-school R&B still playing from the kitchen speaker.
“Is your body still in prison?” she asked softly after a while.
“Mhm.”
“What’s that feel like?”
I exhaled slowly.
“Like my mind knows I’m free before the rest of me do.”
Camilla tightened her arms around me instantly.
“I hate when people say ‘at least you’re home now,’” I admitted. “Like home automatically fix twenty-four years.”
Camilla kissed my shoulder gently.
“It doesn’t,” she whispered.
That simple understanding nearly wrecked me emotionally.
I looked down at her. “You know what the worst part was?”
“What?”
“Missing everybody becoming who they were supposed to be.”
Her face softened immediately.
“Jazzy. My sisters, our boys, you.” My voice dropped lower after that last one.
Camilla touched my face gently. “You didn’t miss anything that you can’t get back.”
I kissed her again. I didn’t know what else to do with all this emotion sitting in my chest.
Then her fingers slid down my chest slowly before she whispered against my mouth:
“Take me to the shower.”
I looked at her carefully. “You not sore, baby?”
“Yes, but Jared Davis,” she murmured, “I waited twenty-four years for you.” Her lips brushed mine again. “I need you back inside of me.”
That little bit of honesty snapped the last thread of restraint I had left. I stood with her still wrapped around me, and the smile she gave me afterward looked so soft and happy, it damn near brought me to my knees.
She was mine, and I couldn’t wait to make love to her in the shower, on the couch, in the fuckin’ kitchen, and anywhere else she would have me because after twenty-four years of surviving, daddy was finally home.