Chapter 8
Chapter eight
Kynsleigh
Istirred beneath the sheets, as my legs tangled in heat and memory.
“All this for me?” Merge growled, like he didn’t already know.
I cocked my head, lazy with lust. “No... for the next guy waiting outside,” I shot back, sarcastic as hell.
I’d always had a slick mouth, but when Merge started fucking me with enough confidence to make me question every decision that led me there, all that sarcasm died real quick.
He didn’t even flinch about protection; just skin against skin, heat against heat, and both of us too caught up to think straight. Truthfully, it was reckless as hell and probably the dumbest shit either of us could’ve done—the kind of shit nobody is supposed to do with someone they just met.
There were too many risks and too many regrets. I could’ve easily ended up tied to a man whose last name I didn’t even know, but in that moment, none of it seemed to matter. His touch was too sure of itself, my body too willing, and the liquor floating through my system wasn’t helping either.
One of Merge’s hands gripped my thigh while the other braced the wall as he pounded into me. In that moment, he wasn’t whoever he was trying to drink away, and I wasn’t the woman with the aching heart. We were just two souls trying to fuck the silence out of our heads.
“Damn,” he muttered, breath shaky.
I clenched around him, testing his stamina, seeing if he could handle me.
He could, and he did.
Merge gripped my hips and started pounding like he had something to prove, and he needed to leave a permanent reminder.
“Shit,” he hissed, forehead dropping to my shoulder. “This is what you wanted? This raw dick inside you?”
“Yesssssss!” I gasped.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and clawed at his back, needing something to hold onto besides my fading restraint.
“Yeah… just like that,” I moaned. “Don’t stop… don’t think… just fuck me like we ain’t ever gonna see each other again.”
Challenge accepted.
His strokes got deeper and nastier. It was as if he was mad at somebody and I was the apology.
I bit my lip, tilted my head back, and let my eyes roll somewhere between pain and prayer.
“Ooh shit!” I whimpered.
“Whose pussy is this?” he grunted.
“Yourrrrrrrrs,” I panted. “Tonight, it’s yours.”
“Damn right.”
It was so wet between us I couldn’t even think straight. All that could be heard were the sound of skin slapping and the way my voice kept catching when he hit that spot.
“You loud as hell,” he whispered in my ear. “You want the whole club to know you getting fucked like this?”
“Maybe I do,” I purred. “I want them to hear how good this dick feellllllllls.”
“Oh yeah? You feel me, huh?”
“All the way,” I breathed.
My nails dug deeper, and I let out this half-sob, half-moan that sounded like I was breaking yet enjoying every second of it.
“You better stop looking at me like that,” he smirked.
“Like what?” I asked, biting my lip again.
“Like you want me to nut in you.”
I stared dead at him—drunk, dangerous, and delirious.
“Then do it. I want it to spill out of me like a secret I ain’t ever trying to hide.”
Lord, forgive me.
“You like being filled up with some stranger’s nut, huh?” he asked, voice filthy as hell.
Merge’s hand gripped my throat just enough to make me gasp, but not enough to stop me from answering.
I giggled through the moan, letting my legs lock around him tighter.
“I do tonight. You only live once… so make this shit count. Give me every drop.”
He didn’t need a second invitation.
Merge started slamming into me like he was trying to rearrange my trauma, rewrite my past, and give me a future I didn’t ask for. I knew I wasn’t making it out of that bathroom the same woman.
When I felt his body stiffened and the way his breathing changed, I knew he was close. When Merge nutted, he came raw, deep and with no hesitation, like my walls had signed a contract he couldn’t get out of. He buried himself in me and let go with everything he had.
I took it all—mind, body, soul, and nut.
When it was over, we both were sweaty, shaky, and silent.
I eased off the sink slowly, my legs wobbling like a newborn deer’s. My heart raced as if it still hadn’t caught up with what the hell had just happened.
Keeping one hand against the wall for balance, I used the other to tug my dress back into place. When I caught my reflection in the mirror, I barely recognized the woman staring back at me.
I looked thoroughly kissed, freshly fucked, completely relieved… and maybe just a little stupid.
Behind me, Merge pulled himself together at a slower pace than I expected, his breathing still uneven as he zipped his pants.
I fixed my hair the best I could, reapplied my lip gloss, and headed toward the door, hoping my heels and what little dignity I had left could carry me out without revealing everything we had just done.
Before leaving, I glanced back and met his eyes one final time.
For one stupid second, I wondered if he would stop me, ask my name again, request my number, or give me any indication that what happened between us had been more than two drunk strangers making a reckless decision in a bathroom… he didn’t. So, I smiled like I hadn’t expected him to.
“Thanks for being brave,” I said, reaching for the handle. “And for the orgasms.”
I didn’t ask for his number, he didn’t offer. All I left behind was the lingering scent of my favorite perfume, a sticky mess in my lace panties, and the kind of regret that felt more intoxicating than most people’s best decisions.
A loud, heart-wrenching cry shattered the stillness of my morning.
My eyes flew open, adrenaline coursing through my veins.
“Shit.”
I dragged a hand through my tousled hair, trying to shake off the remnants of a dream that felt too vivid and consuming.
My one-night stand with Merge still haunted me… in a good way.
Like clockwork, my body remembered the way he felt each time I let my defenses down in my sleep.
God, I can still feel him… the way he filled me up… and made me feel like I was his… if only for one night.
Mysun cried out again, more demanding that time.
“I’m coming, baby,” I murmured, scrambling out of bed and shuffling toward the bassinet tucked away in the corner of my cramped bedroom.
Mysun was kicking and wailing, his tiny fists flailing.
I scooped him into my arms, my heart swelling despite the chaos.
“Okay, okay. Here.”
I popped the pacifier into his mouth, and to my relief, he immediately calmed, sniffling like he’d just emerged from a battle.
I playfully wrinkled my nose. “Eww… you’re stinky. You knew that dream was getting too good, huh?”
I laid him on the changing table and moved quickly, my hands working on autopilot as I reached for the wipes, powder, and a fresh diaper before securing the final tab with practiced ease.
“I know you’re hungry,” I cooed, trying to soothe both him and me. “Let’s get your bottle before you turn into something out of The Exorcist.”
I lifted him into my arms and headed toward the kitchen, my mind still swirling with remnants of lingering desire.
Then I heard it.
Thump-thump-thump.
It was the unmistakable rhythm of a bed frame losing its religion, knocking against the wall like it was begging somebody to call maintenance.
“Yeah... arch that back just like that,” a man groaned from Von’s bedroom.
“You trying to kill me or make me marry you?” Von cried out.
I froze mid-step; my mouth dropping open in astonishment. “Oh my God.”
Mysun’s pacifier slipped halfway out of his mouth. His little eyebrows lifted as he stared up at me like he wanted an explanation.
“Don’t look at me,” I whispered. “I don’t know what’s going on either.”
The bedframe rattled harder.
Von’s voice drifted out again. “Ouuuu, you nasty… and I love it. Do that thing again with ya’ tongue.”
I gasped, instinctively covering my baby’s ears with my palms.
“Lord, I rebuke every flexible demon operating in that bedroom. Not my baby hearing unholy extracurriculars before eight in the morning.”
I kept walking, like I hadn’t just heard Von having the best sex of his life.
My mornings were supposed to begin with bottles, cartoons, and soft, not the grinding soundtrack of a romp in the sheets.
I glanced down at Mysun, cradled comfortably in my arms.
“You ain’t hear nothing, baby. And if you did, your first word better not have nothing to do with arching a back.”
He blinked.
“Amen,” I added, pushing the pacifier back into his mouth.
I made my way to the kitchen, the familiar rhythm of parenthood settling around me. Opening the fridge, I grabbed a bottle of breastmilk, set it in the warmer and gently bounced Mysun on my hip.
“Just a few seconds, lil’ man. Patience, my love,” I murmured, watching the warmer as it worked its magic.
I made my way to the kitchen, the familiar rhythm of parenthood settling around me. After opening the refrigerator, I grabbed a bottle of breast milk, placed it in the warmer, and gently bounced Mysun against my hip.
“Just a few seconds, lil’ man. Patience, my love,” I murmured, watching the warmer work its magic.
It beeped a moment later, the soft chime letting me know it was ready. I tested a few drops against the inside of my wrist, then carried him over to the kitchen table and sat down.
“Here.” I guided the bottle toward his mouth. “Hold it yourself. Mama tired.”
Mysun’s tiny hand lifted and rested against the side of the bottle like he was actually considering my request.
I laughed softly. “Yeah, I know. You just got here. I’m asking for too much.”
His little fingers curled around the plastic while I supported the bottle and held it in place.
“One day, though, you gon’ hold this whole thing by yourself, and Mama is going to celebrate like she just got a full eight hours of sleep.”