The Hell You Belong To

Prologue

UNO. Fucking UNO. That stupid ass game was why I was currently folded up like a pretzel, getting the best dick from the most toxic nigga I’d ever met.

I’d known him all of four hours, but I knew his ass was toxic.

Toxicity spilled out of his damn pores. Luckily for him, I loved a toxic nigga, which was exactly why I refused to get into a relationship.

I was smart enough to understand that I had a damn type, and the type of man I always went for was never fit for a relationship, so I steered clear.

I knew better. My heart was worth protecting.

I was a certified crashout, so people automatically thought I was hardened, but the people closest to me understood that I was highly emotional.

That was why it was so easy for me to crash out.

My emotions ruled me, which was why I currently looked up at this man with damn stars in my eyes.

He would never know how good his dick was.

Not from me anyway. He would never know my heart fluttered every time his dick stroked into me.

My emotions were on high right now, and all the liquor I consumed for my birthday celebration definitely wasn’t helping.

Beretta. His damn name was Beretta, for fuck’s sake. His mama took one look at him and decided to name him after a damn gun. I made sure I got proof that Beretta was his government name, and after he showed me his driver’s license, I knew his ass was trouble.

“This birthday dick got you lost for words?” Beretta asked. I must have been too in my head as I looked at him, but damn, he was fine as fuck. His shoulder-length locs hung around his shoulders. His mocha skin glistened with sweat because he was definitely putting in work.

Before I could respond, he slammed his dick into my guts, and I moaned, . . . then I laughed. There was no way this man didn’t have a string of bitches following behind him.

“Fuck so funny?” Beretta asked as he slowed his strokes. He looked down at me in confusion, and when I laughed harder, he let my legs fall from their place up against my chest. I knew his fine ass wasn’t used to a woman laughing at him, especially not in the middle of his long-ass deep strokes.

I felt his hard dick still pulsing inside me, and my pussy clenched around him as I laughed. When he tried to pull out of me, I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him close.

“Chill,” I managed to say between my laughs. “I ain’t even laughing at you.”

“What the fuck so funny then?” he asked with his face mugged up. He looked like he wanted to choke me, and my crazy ass giggled at that.

“The fact that you know how to slang some dick,” I replied. It was the closest he would get to a compliment from me.

He cocked his head to the side. “You laughin’ ’cause I know how to fuck?”

I nodded. “Yup.”

And I didn’t plan on explaining further. His ability to make my pussy feel things I never felt before was funny because, of course, I would find this gem of a man, and he was touched in the damn head. I wondered if I would ever settle down and meet a nice man. I giggled again. Highly unlikely.

I pulled him down to me and kissed him sloppily. He matched my energy and put his hand around my neck. I smiled against his lips. I loved that shit.

“You gonna fuck me now?” I asked.

He squeezed my neck. “You gonna take this dick seriously?”

I wanted to laugh, but the pressure on my neck felt too good. When he stroked into me again, all I could do was nod. I was for sure going to take his dick seriously because he was about to give me the best orgasm of my life.

“Fuck, why yo’ pussy so good? Huh? You talk a lot of shit but got this goldmine between ya legs. You just tryna protect your treasure?”

My eyes widened as he kept up his rhythmic pace.

How could he know that was exactly what I did?

I talked a whole lot of shit and did my best to show niggas how I was the big dog and that I ran everything around me.

That attitude always weeded out the weak.

It most definitely protected my heart and my treasure because it ensured that only real niggas got between my legs.

For some reason, God seemed to make all the realest niggas the most trash when it came to love, so keeping up my attitude inadvertently also protected my heart.

Because with real niggas, I always knew what I would get.

The issue was that Beretta proved to be a little different.

Real recognized real, and it was clear to me that not an ounce of ‘pussy-ass bitch’ lived within him.

The problem was that he had a big-ass dick he knew how to use, and he spoke my language of crazy to a T.

That excited me, and that scared me. I didn’t get excited about niggas. They came a dime a dozen.

I laughed at Beretta because something about his soul spoke to mine while he dug inside my guts, and that had never happened before. I laughed to cover up my fear.

“You gonna answer me?” Beretta asked. I was close to an explosive orgasm, so all I could do was nod. “Nah. I want you to speak. Tell daddy why you got that mouth on you?”

His grip around my neck loosened, and I knew if I didn’t respond, he would stop my orgasm. I wanted to cum bad, real bad, so I replied without confirming the truth. “Because I’m a real bitch and say what I want.”

Beretta chuckled before he slammed into me. I moaned as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. “You a real bitch, huh? Tell me somethin’. Is this real bitch gonna suck the cum out my dick when I pull out of this good-ass pussy?”

I nodded, knowing I looked eager. Thirsty. At that moment, I didn’t care. All I could feel was the intense pleasure building up from my core.

“I’m cumming,” I whispered through gasps of air.

“Cum on my dick, Icelynn, so you can lick it off,” he encouraged.

See? That right there. That was exactly why I was so enamored by him. He knew exactly how to talk to me, and we had just met. How the hell did that even work?

I had no time to contemplate it. Juices spilled from my pussy. Beretta looked down. I saw wonder in his gaze as he put his fingers on my clit and rubbed. My eyes snapped close as more juices squirted out of me.

“Look like fuckin’ crystals comin’ out your pussy. Ol’ good-ass, pretty-ass pussy,” he muttered.

When I calmed down, I opened my eyes and focused back on Beretta. His tattoo covered muscles flexed with the tension of working hard for his nut. I matched his pace and grabbed his smooth face. “Look at me when you nut.”

He groaned, and I could tell he was close. I clenched my pussy and held it like that.

“Fuck.”

He looked into my eyes, and I swore something ethereal passed between us. His face screwed up, and I knew it was time.

“Pull that big ass dick out for me so I can suck the nut out of you, daddy.”

Daddy? I never called niggas daddy. It bigged their heads up and gave them a sense of power. No, thank you.

It pleased me that Beretta seemed like the type to know how to follow directions because a couple of strokes later, he pulled out. I grabbed his dick and got into position just in time for his cum to flow into my mouth.

Another thing I never did, tasted a man’s nut. A nigga could taste me all he wanted. I was an all you could eat buffet, but my mouth rarely went on a man. There was something about Beretta that made me want to taste him, and I was glad I went with my gut because he tasted good. Addicting.

He groaned as he held the back of my head in place. I moaned because the thought of me making him feel so good had me ready to go another round.

When he finally pulled out of my mouth, I looked up at him with a smile as I swallowed every drop he blessed me with.

His hand wrapped around my throat once again, and he peered down at me as if he wanted to figure me out.

Good luck.

“Fuck am I gonna do wit’ you?” he asked as he turned my face side to side, as if he was trying to decipher if I was an alien or not.

I grinned. “Leave.”

“What?”

My word surprised both of us, but I could feel my mind, body, and heart shifting right back to my default setting: bitch.

“Leave,” I repeated as I sat back on my ass with my titties on full display.

He chuckled, and I could see his mask slipping back into place too. He no longer wanted to figure me out. Instead, he wanted to match my energy. I smirked.

May the best asshole win, my nigga.

“You kickin’ me out?” he asked.

I nodded, secretly thanking my drunk ass for being wise enough to bring him back to my house and not the other way around. Now, all I had to do was shower and pass the fuck out.

“I had fun, but I’m ready for bed.” As if to punctuate my announcement, I stretched my arms over my head and yawned. My long knotless braids fell down my back as my chocolate-covered nipples pointed straight at Beretta.

He laughed again. “This shit was too easy.”

I frowned. “What?”

He got off the bed and searched for his clothes. My foot kicked out and launched his black briefs toward him. He snatched them off the bed and covered that magnificent dick of his before he said, “I wanted to fuck, I did, and you don’t want no cuddles or nice words . . . Easy money.”

He shrugged, and my frown deepened before I shoved the little pain from the jab away and smirked. “And I got my birthday dick with no strings attached . . . Easy money.”

We stared at each other for a second before he pulled his pants on and then his shirt before confirming that he had his wallet, keys, and phone. After he glanced down at his phone, he tapped on it a few times, and I silently wondered who the hell he texted at this time of night.

After a moment, he tossed me his phone. “Lock yo’ number in.”

My nose scrunched up. “No.”

He chuckled and flicked his thumb across his nose. “I might need some pussy soon.”

“And what I look like? Pussy on demand?” He had a lot of nerve.

He leaned down, pressing his fists into the mattress on either side of my legs so his face was only inches from mine. With a sexy smirk on his lips, he said, “You might need some dick.”

He had a point. I would be a fool not to have that dick on speed dial. I shrugged. “Fine, but don’t be botherin’ me and shit.”

“Don’t plan on it,” he replied.

I quickly tapped my number into his phone. When I finished, I tossed his phone onto the bed and held his gaze. After a moment, he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. The gesture surprised me, but I realized I didn’t really mind it.

He pulled away and grinned down at me. “See you around, Juicy.”

“Juicy?” I wrinkled my nose.

“Ain’t ever seen or felt a pussy as juicy as yours.” He laughed as he walked out of my room while I shook my head at his crazy ass. I couldn’t help the smile that stayed on my lips, even long after he left my home.

Yeah, I was in big ass trouble with this nigga, but what did they say? Curiosity killed the cat.

I looked down at my pussy and grinned. I definitely didn’t mind if my cat was murdered in this scenario. In fact, I welcomed it.