Chapter 4 #5
Slowly, hesitantly, she reached down between her legs. Her fingers trembled slightly as they made contact with her clit, and she let out a soft gasp.
"That's it," I encouraged, watching intently as she began to rub slow circles. "Just like that."
She closed her eyes, her head falling back, her breathing becoming more labored as she pleasured herself in front of me.
It was the sexiest fucking thing I'd ever seen.
"Open your eyes," I said. "Look at me."
She obeyed, her eyes meeting mine, heavy-lidded and glazed with lust.
"You like me watching you?" I asked.
She nodded, unable to form words.
"Good. Because I'm gonna be watching you a lot from now on." I stepped closer, my hand covering hers, guiding her movements. "Faster."
She whimpered, her hips bucking as we worked together, her fingers and mine rubbing her clit in tandem.
"Romelo, I'm gonna—"
"Not yet," I said, pulling her hand away. "When you cum, it's gonna be on my tongue."
Before she could protest, I dropped to my knees in front of her, my face level with her pussy.
I looked up at her one more time, making sure she was with me. "You good?"
She nodded frantically. "Please."
That was all the permission I needed.
I leaned in and dragged my tongue from her entrance to her clit in one long, slow lick. She cried out, her thighs trembling on either side of my head.
"Fuck, you taste good," I groaned, doing it again, this time swirling my tongue around her clit before sucking it into my mouth.
Her hands flew to my head, her nails scratching at my scalp as she tried to hold on.
I ate her pussy like I was starving—licking, sucking, biting gently, using every trick I knew to drive her wild.
"Oh my God," she gasped, her hips grinding against my face. "Oh my God, Romelo, don't stop."
I had no intention of stopping.
I slid two fingers inside her while my mouth focused on her clit, and she screamed—actually screamed—her entire body going rigid as her orgasm hit.
I didn't let up. I kept licking, kept fingering, drawing it out as long as possible until she was shaking and begging me to stop.
"Too much," she whimpered. "It's too much."
I finally pulled back, my face wet with her juices, and grinned up at her. "You good?"
She nodded weakly, her chest heaving. "Yeah. I'm good."
"Good," I said, standing up. "Because we're not done yet."
I scooped her up off the island—one arm under her knees, the other around her back—and carried her through the house toward my bedroom.
She wrapped her arms around my neck, her head resting on my shoulder. "Where are we going?"
"To finish what we started," I said simply.
"Romelo, I don't know if I can—"
"You can," I assured her. "And you will. I'm gonna take care of you, Juicy. Trust me."
She was quiet for a moment, then: "Okay."
That single word—that small act of trust—meant more to me than she probably realized.
I pushed open my bedroom door with my foot and carried her inside, laying her down gently on the bed. The sheets were cool against her heated skin, and she shivered slightly.
I stood at the foot of the bed, looking down at her—naked, flushed, beautiful.
"You sure about this?" I asked, giving her one last out.
She looked up at me, her eyes clear and certain. "I'm sure."
"A'ight then," I said, pulling my shirt over my head and tossing it aside.
Her eyes widened as she took in my bare chest—the tattoos, the muscles, the scars.
"You're staring," I said, smirking.
"You're... a lot," she admitted.
"You ain't seen nothin’ yet."
I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my joggers and pulled them down along with my boxer briefs. My dick sprang free, already hard and leaking precum.
Synthia's eyes went wide. "Oh my God."
"Yeah," I said, stroking myself slowly. "Still sure?"
She swallowed hard but nodded. "Yeah. I'm sure."
I climbed onto the bed, positioning myself between her legs. "We'll go slow," I promised. "If it hurts, you tell me. Understood?"
"Understood," she whispered.
I leaned down to kiss her—soft, reassuring—while my hand reached between us to guide myself to her entrance.
"Breathe," I instructed as I began to push inside.
She gasped, her body tensing at the intrusion.
"Relax," I murmured against her lips. "I got you."
Inch by inch, I worked my way inside her tight heat, pausing every few seconds to let her adjust.
"Fuck, you're tight," I groaned, fighting the urge to just slam home.
"You're huge," she whimpered, her nails digging into my shoulders.
"You're doing so good, baby," I praised. "Just a little more."
Finally—finally—I was fully seated inside her. We both froze, breathing hard, letting the moment settle.
"You okay?" I asked.
She nodded, her eyes watery but determined. "Yeah. You can move."
I pulled out slowly, then pushed back in, setting a gentle rhythm. With each thrust, she loosened up, her body accommodating mine, her moans turning from pained to pleasured.
"There you go," I murmured. "See? You can take it. Look at you takin’ this dick like a good girl."
"Romelo," she gasped, her legs wrapping around my waist. "Harder."
"You sure?"
"Please."
I didn't need to be told twice.
I picked up the pace, thrusting deeper, faster, harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixed with our combined moans and groans.
"Fuck, this pussy is so good," I growled, my control slipping. "You feel so fucking good, Juicy."
"Don't stop," she begged, her nails raking down my back. "Please don't stop."
I had no intention of stopping.
I fucked her until she came apart beneath me—screaming my name, her pussy clenching around my dick so tight I thought I'd lose my mind.
"Shit," I grunted, feeling my own release building. "Where you want it?"
"Inside," she gasped. "I'm on birth control."
That was all I needed to hear.
With one final, deep thrust, I came—emptying myself inside her, marking her as mine in the most primal way possible.
We collapsed together, sweaty and spent, our bodies still joined.
The only sounds in the room were our breathing, still heavy and trying to regulate. The hum from the AC, wafted cool air throughout the room. I was on my back now, one arm tucked behind my head, staring at the popcorn on the ceiling.
Synthia was curled up beside me, her head resting on my chest, her hand splayed across my stomach. She was playing with the ridges of my six pack, trailing her fingers down the muscles and tracing them. Her hair was damp, causing her roots to appear puffy.
I could feel her heartbeat against my ribs. It was still beating fast, but gradually pumping slowly, syncing with mine in a beat that felt weird to me.
Odd.
Intimate.
“Juicy.” I spoke up, breaking the silence.
“Hmph,” she responded, with her neck craned to glance up at me.
“You good?”
“Yeah.” Her voice was small and muffled against my chest.
“You sure? I wasn’t too rough, was I?”
I turned my gaze away from the ceiling to meet her eyes. They were soft and unguarded in a way I hadn’t seen them before. Her virginity was a serious matter and I didn’t want to do too much or take shit overboard.
“You were perfect. I mean…it hurt. Nothing like the movies, that’s for sure,” she giggled, getting a low chuckle out of me. “Then it felt…” She trailed off, her cheeks turning into a rose color.
“Felt what Juicy?” I prompted out of curiosity.
“Good, really good,” she admitted, followed by a low moan. Then she ducked her head back down, like she was embarrassed by her confession. “Romelo, I can still feel you inside of me.”
I grinned again. “You’ll get used to it, eventually.”
“I can’t believe I finally did it,” she muttered, barely above a whisper.
“You make it sound like it’s a problem. I beat that pussy up in more ways than one,” I teased her.
“No, it’s a problem, it’s just… you. That’s the only problem, it was you.”
I frowned, not understanding her statement. “Whatchu’ mean?”
Synthia became quiet for a moment, her finger became still too. Followed by a slow pause, she sighed, long and heavy, like she was carrying dead weight.
“It means I’m in trouble and I’m scared,” she spoke softly.
“What kind of trouble?”
“The kind where I start feeling things I want to feel, but I’m not supposed to feel.
The kind where I want things I can’t have.
The kind where I can see myself tossing and turning at night, losing sleep, afraid that one day I’ll wake up and this will all feel like a dream.
The kind that makes me fear losing you,” she uttered.
My hand on her back went cold and stiff. “And I’ll be right there wit’ you. Tossin’ and turnin’ too. You ain’t alone in this. Stop replacin’ the we’s with I’s, Synthia,” I spat, irritation slipping through.
“Romelo…” she scoffed, sitting up. The sheet was clenched tight in her hand over her breasts. “Is it not clear to you that this will start a war?”
I scrunched my face in annoyance. “I don’t give a fuck ‘bout startin’ a war with a bitch who ain’t got shit for me. Fuck I look like to you? Don’t start pissin’ me off—talkin’ out the side of yo fuckin’ neck, sayin’ dumb ass shit that’s gon’ make me slap the shit out’chu,” I snapped.
“Nigga, I wish the fuck you would put your hands on me. I’ll rumble with a nigga. I’m with whatever you wit’, Romelo. Don’t write a check yo ass can’t cash.”
“If I black your eye, then what?” I taunted, clearly joking.
I don’t hit women unless I’m pushed to a limit I don’t ever wanna reach—but I’ll walk off long before that.
“Then we’ll both be lookin’ like some pandas, ‘cause I’m blackin’ your eye too.”
I gave her a sadistic side-eye, and she mirrored it—nostrils flaring before a smile tugged her lips. Then she burst out laughing, breaking her own face.
When her laughter finally faded, I spoke. “I know what I want. Not just while we’re here. Not until I’m bored. I want you. I don’t know what else to do or say to convince you otherwise.”
“I don’t want you to feed me lies or bullshit—”
“Ain’t nobody doin’ that,” I cut in. “I thought we got past this part?” My voice sounded drained even to me.
“We have,” she protested softly. “At least that’s what I tell myself. Romelo… I don’t want to mistake my feelings for you because I’m trapped here. When it’s time—”
My head started throbbing at the thought. “I don’t wanna think about that shit right now,” I hissed.
Synthia clicked her teeth. “It’s reality.”
“If what you feel for me is real, then why you keep tryna twist it? You safer here wit’ me anyway. I can bring the world to you.”
Silence settled heavy between us, both of us trying to process everything.
“You scare me, Romelo,” she admitted, the words spilling out before she could stop them.
My eyebrows shot up. “I scare you?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “You make me feel things I don’t know how to process. You make me feel wanted. You look at me different—unlike other niggas.”
“What do you want?” I asked her.
We stared at each other for a long moment, breathing steady, our chests rising in sync.
“I want to wake up to you every morning,” she finally said. “I want to cook you breakfast, iron your clothes, bathe you… run your bath water. Run my fingers through your hair. I want us to have cook-offs to see who can make the best steaks. I want to go places I’ve never been—with you.”
She paused, her eyes tracing over my face.
“I want to build something real with you. Not some fake ass relationship where we goin’ through the motions and testin’ the waters.”
Her breath hitched, eyes glossing with tears. I removed my arm from behind my head and gently caressed her back, up and down.
“Why you cryin’, Synthia?” I asked.
“Because,” she sniffled, “this is dangerous.”
I wiped her tears with my thumb. “Then let’s be dangerous together.”
She let out a shaky laugh. “You’re insane.”
“Yeah,” I smirked. “But you knew that already.”
Synthia grew quiet, her eyes searching mine—like she was checking for a lie. But I was being brutally honest.
“I’m scared, Romelo,” she whispered finally, her voice small and cracked.
“Of what?”
“Of this. Of us. Of you. Of fallin’ in too deep and not bein’ able to find my way back out.”
I pulled her closer, pressed my forehead to hers. “Then don’t try to find your way out. Stay with me. Wherever you go, I’m there. You won’t ever have to look for me.”
“What about Trecee?”
“Fuck her,” I said, and meant it.
“I don’t want to be the villain,” she murmured.
“You ain’t,” I assured her. “Anybody who tries to paint you that way can answer to me.”
We stared at each other for what felt like hours, the weight of everything settling around us like a blanket. Slowly, she leaned in and kissed me—nasty kiss, tongue sucking mine, dragging over my lips before pulling it into her mouth.
I gripped her hips, motioning her on top of me. I was already hard, poking at her entrance, and she was already dripping.
“You know I don’t know what I’m doing,” she breathed against my mouth.
As she climbed on top of me, the covers peeled back, and we both caught the specks of cherry-red blood staining the white sheets. Synthia’s eyes widened, then softened when she looked at me and matched my calm expression.
“I popped your cherry,” I grinned.
She giggled. “I know that much.”
“You sure you can handle all this? You ain’t sore?”
“I can try,” she whispered timidly.
I held her steady, guiding her down onto my dick. Her wetness soaked my shaft, my eyes rolling back as her walls gripped me, inviting me in.
“I’ll forever be gone off this shit,” I moaned under my breath.
We fucked for hours. I didn’t wanna let her go. Didn’t wanna pull out. If it didn’t involve Synthia, I didn’t want it. I put my phone on DND and abandoned every priority.
Behind these walls with her…
I feared how normal it felt.
Feared how much I didn’t wanna let her see daylight ever again.