Chapter 9 #2
He’d never thought about it that way. It was the only ink she had, and Orielle wanted to ensure it was meaningful. Najee couldn’t help but grin when he realized the musical note was the same one attached to his keys.
“I like it. You want anymore?” he asked.
“Maybe one day. I’m not a huge fan of needles.”
Najee took a mental note, adding it to the list of things he was learning about her.
“I can understand that. Needles are nothing to play with.”
“Not at all,” she agreed, dragging her hand across his arm.
It was so soft, and the feel of his veins hardened her nipples. She wasn’t wearing a bra, so they boldly announced themselves under the fabric.
“You better stop feeling on me like that.”
She smirked and rubbed higher up his arm, squeezing his muscle. “Why? You getting turned on?”
Touch this mothafucka and find out, is what Najee wanted to tell her. That was too bold, though. They hadn’t done anything sexual, and he would never make her uncomfortable.
Chuckling, hoping she kept her eyes glued to his face and not the erection in his pants, he said, “Nah. Because you gon’ owe me. Ain’t no free feels around here.”
Orielle stuck her arm out. “Here. You can touch mine.”
Najee couldn’t help but laugh at her silliness. “I don’t wanna touch you, girl. Let me hear you sing somethin’.”
The grin on her face fell as her heart rate increased. “But... I don’t wanna sing to you, though.”
“Why not? Didn’t I tell you that was what I needed?”
She gulped and nodded. His words and the way they affected her at his party were a hundred times more intense now.
I need you to sing to me in person. Make me really feel that shit.
She wanted to make him feel something all right.
Fine ass nigga with all these requirements I want to meet, Orielle thought as her pussy thumped.
Najee could get that. Not because he told her in such a mannish manner, but because he was here.
He didn’t just show up physically, but he was emotionally present in a way that made Orielle feel seen, wanted, and heard.
She’d only had to tell him once what she didn’t want, so she saw no reason in making him ask twice. Third time was a charm, though, and she wasn’t giving him his way just yet. At least in the way he wanted her to.
“Hearing me sing may be what you need , but that’s not what I want ,” she said lowly.
Najee licked his lips. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”
Her gaze dropped to his lips. “I want you to eat my pussy.”
She was so bold with it, and Najee would never deny her. He didn’t expect that to be what she wanted, and after tonight, she’d never have to tell him again. A man of his word and standing on it, Najee leaned her way, eliminating the space between them.
“Come here.”
He didn’t wait for her to follow his command.
Najee pulled her onto his lap and kissed her.
He’d heard what she wanted, but he was about to give her everything she’d been needing.
His lips were so soft as they made out. It didn’t take long to find a rhythm, adding their tongues in the mix.
Orielle deepened the kiss when his hands trailed up her back, giving her a massage while doing so.
“Mmm,” she moaned into his mouth, catching the way his breath hitched and his dick twitched beneath her.
The exchange of emotions they’d been holding back for so long was felt in every movement. Their lips didn’t separate until Najee stood from the couch with her in his arms and laid her back on it.
“Can I take these off?” he asked, thumbing the band of her leggings.
Orielle nodded. Najee slid them down over her hips and down her legs.
They were tossed to the side, and then his hands were right back touching her.
Orielle shivered as he lowered himself in front of her on one knee.
It looked as if he were proposing to her body as she laid out before him. And in a sense, he was.
His hand traced her ankle before he kissed the inside of it, and the gentleness of the action was similar to asking for permission.
Soft kisses trailed up her calf, leading him to her thigh.
Najee’s eyes didn’t leave hers as he dragged his tongue across the meaty flesh and then repeated his torturous assault on the left leg.
Orielle’s chest heaved when his hands slid underneath her ass, gripped the string of her cream thong, and slid it off.
She felt claimed as his arms wrapped around her thighs, pulling her to the edge of the couch with a firm grip.
Najee kissed her stomach first, then left a trail with his tongue to what he knew would be his favorite meal. He sighed with pure satisfaction.
“My Pretty Girl, with a pretty ass, wet pussy. She deserves a kiss, baby.”
Orielle could’ve dissolved into the couch. Her body literally felt like it was melting from his complimentary words, and evaporated the second his warm lips touched her warmer ones. The sweet sound of her gasping as he ate her pussy made Najee’s dick harder.
He slid his tongue across her clit, swirling the nub in his mouth as if he were having fun with it. And he was. Najee wanted to see how much stiffer it could get. How wetter he could make her. He flickered his tongue, putting his skills to the test.
“Oh my gosh,” Orielle cried as her eyes crossed.
Her hand rubbed his waves as her body flinched, and she tried scooting back. The grip on her thighs tightened, and he dragged her back to where she belonged.
“I know you’re sensitive,” he mumbled gently between firm licks. Orielle gasped loudly. “But let me have this shit. Stop running.”
His words sent vibrations through her body, and her head dropped back, while her legs spread wider. They trembled uncontrollably as the first orgasm washed over her.
“Najee,” she cried out.
Hearing his name whimpered out only made him go harder.
He left no crevice dry, lapped up every drop of her essence spilling from her body, and sucked on her clitoris with determination.
Orielle wanted him to eat her pussy, and Najee was devouring it.
Clean plate, no crumbs. No mothafuckin’ pussy juices left behind because he slurped it all up.
“Shit!” she squeaked, pressing her thighs firmly against the sides of his head.
Like he’d been doing every thirty seconds, Najee pushed them apart.
There was no use in trying to stop him. When he wanted something, he went after it until it was his.
Right now, he wanted to hear Orielle’s sweet melodies fill the room as he sucked on her pretty pussy.
Her moans sounded just like she sang—fucking beautifully and out of this world.
So, technically, she had given him exactly what he needed, just like she said she would.
Orielle wasn’t sure how long he’d been down there or how many times she came, but she was delirious once he lifted his head.
Najee rolled his tongue around in his mouth, as if to greedily taste whatever flavor was there.
The sucking of his teeth as he licked them was a sound Orielle didn’t know she’d love hearing.
Her eyes fluttered as she stared at his beard covered in her creamy wetness.
Attentively, Najee caressed her thighs and asked, “What else you want?”
Nigga, your hand in marriage. What the hell?
Her thoughts were loud, and if she hadn’t been serious, Orielle would’ve laughed.
Najee had eaten away her brain cells. She wanted to decapitate him, put his head in her black Glam-Aholic tote bag, and carry it around with her.
There was no way she was sharing that mouth with anyone else.
Instead of answering him verbally, Orielle reached for him.
She pulled him to her and they shared a nasty kiss.
Tasting herself on his lips only brought the freak in her out more.
Najee didn’t want to think that because she’d given him a taste that they were going to have sex, but he should’ve used his other head and not the one Orielle wanted to take out a life insurance policy on.
“Mmmm,” she moaned, running a hand over his erection.
He was so hard it hurt.
“Can I feel it?”
The innocence in her voice made his knees weak.
She didn’t have to ask, but he damn sure would’ve loved to hear her beg.
Najee had no problem removing his pants and black briefs.
He lowkey wanted to take his socks off because that’s the type of nigga he was when fucking, but he kept them on.
Next time, because there would damn sure be a next time, he was removing every stitch of clothing.
“Tell me where you wanna feel it,” Najee said, sliding the SILK condom over his shaft. The Black-owned brand was the only kind he used.
Orielle’s mouth watered. She wanted to tell him in her throat, but she needed her voice.
The thickness and length told her he would surely fuck up her vocals.
She would’ve been better off wrapping her lips around him anyway, with how loudly Najee was about to have her screaming and moaning once she told him, “Everywhere.”
Her confident answer made Najee waste no time. In the midst of his pussy eating festival, Orielle’s hoodie had been removed. His lips wrapped around one chocolate, taut nipple while he aligned the head of his dick at her center.
She gasped loudly and sharply as he pushed inside her. “Najee!”
He wanted to close his eyes, but he didn’t. She was so damn tight; it made his head spin. Leaning over her, Najee kissed her neck.
“You gotta relax for me, baby,” he said and immediately felt the difference as her body reacted to his strokes. “I know, I know. Un, un. Come here. Let me open this shit up.”
Orielle didn’t mean to run away, but it was feeling too damn good.
She told him she wanted to feel it all over her body, and Najee listened.
Her toes tingled as he dug deeper, poking at the spongy spot inside her that was going to have her writing another song about him.
At this point, Najee’s name should’ve been in the credits.
When she caught her groove and started fucking him back, Najee smirked and pushed her legs back against the couch, holding her in place by her ankles. Orielle’s flexibility was literally a flex, and he couldn’t wait to fold her ass up in different positions.
Her stomach hollowed. “Oh my God!” she screamed, biting the knuckle of her index finger.
Najee pulled her hand away, still relentlessly pounding into her. “Nah. Don’t bite shit. I told you I need to hear you.”
“Okaaaay!” Orielle whined.
The need he’d told her he had wasn’t a lie. His appetite was insatiable, and now that he heard her singing off and on key, he was satisfied for the moment. When a hand slipped between her legs and she toyed with her clit, Najee knew he was never coming up off of her.
“This pussy so fucking good,” he hissed, with flared nostrils. “You gon’ make it sing to me?”
She nodded before he could complete his sentence.
Orielle’s persona may have given off reserved, shy girl vibes, but that pussy wasn’t at all.
It was dripping wet, had Najee’s dick in a vice grip, and talking back to him as she took every inch he delivered.
When he slowed his strokes down and just let his dick pulse inside her so he wouldn’t nut, Orielle’s heart fluttered.
“You feel this shit?” he asked, eyes locked on hers.
Orielle nodded. She felt it all. Everywhere.
Najee grinded slowly with intention, and her eyes rolled, matching the rotation of his hips.
There was a tenderness in the way he was loving her body down.
Like he only wanted to handle her body with the utmost care.
It was too much and everything at once. Orielle came again, this time clinging onto his broad arms, leaving imprints in them from her nails.
“Yeeeees,” she sang into his ear, and Najee shivered.
She repeated it over and over, letting it be known that this was exactly what she wanted. Najee was exactly what she wanted. The slight saltiness of her skin added another flavor to his tongue as he sucked on her neck.
“Mmm. I feel you, baby. Come make a home in this pussy,” she whispered in one ear while rubbing the other. That spot was his weakness.
Had he not been wearing a condom, Najee would’ve done just as he was told.
Knowing they both had too much to accomplish, Orielle had better stop talking like that or he would have her pregnant with her feet up, and a rock on her hand.
His body stiffened as he came, and he didn’t move immediately.
Orielle rubbed his back, and he kissed the side of her head.
“You were just supposed to be dropping me off some food,” she said with a lazy, beyond-satisfied grin.
Najee chuckled. “And look at that, you got some dick for dessert. This was the best delivery I’ve ever made.”