14. Yes #2
“Ooh, shit,” I cried out when he picked up the pace. He smiled the same way he always did when I slipped up and cursed.
“I love when I break you, baby. You gon’ let me break you? Turn you out and let me do whatever I want to this pretty muhfucka?” He asked, voice low and calm while I was almost frantic. He took his other hand and worked his fingers over my now exposed clit, giving me just what I needed.
“Yesss,” I answered. By that point, I feared that man would never hear the word no from me again. It took him less than three minutes to have me on the brink of an orgasm.
“You feel free now?” he asked, fingers going faster than I thought possible and leaving my body to try to catch up.
“YES! Babyyyy! Fuck!” I moaned. I hoped he didn’t need the papers on his desk because I knocked everything over as my body drenched his fingers while simultaneously trying to swallow them whole.
I fought back, riding his fingers until my body was so delirious that I couldn’t even remember my own name.
He slowly pulled them out and rose to his feet, taking the ones that were still dripping with my juices, and gently forcing them past my lips. I couldn’t hold back my moan as I licked his fingers clean and he watched me with pride and lust all over his face.
I leaned forward, collapsing into his chest as I let him hold me while I caught my breath.
“Are you gonna do this every day?” I asked breathlessly.
“Make you cum?” he asked like I was crazy. “Fuck yeah. If I can help it.”
“Brick, I don’t know if I can take it every day? My God.” I was still recovering from the night before and that morning. After what he’d just done to me, I felt ready to sleep for hours. If he kept it up, I’d never get anything done.
“Well, you better rest up because I ain’t even fucked you yet. Come on, Peep. Let’s go home.” We had plans for the rest of the day, but between my soggy bottoms and the heaviness in my eyelids, I was ready to be at the house, showered and curled up in our new bed for the rest of the day.
We got home and I rushed to the bathroom to shower and change. When I walked back into the bedroom, Brick was standing there with an annoyed expression on his face.
“What did I do now?” I asked. Everything was all good twenty minutes ago, but now he was looking at me like he wanted to pinch the crap out of me.
“Did you—” He spoke slowly, frustration all in his voice. “Tell my muhfuckin’ brothers that we would start hosting Sunday dinner or some shit?”
“Uhh, yeah. I told them I would talk to you about it,” I said with an innocent shrug. “Why?”
“Because they’re here… With groceries… For fuckin’ Sunday dinner.” I couldn’t help but laugh at how irritated he was. Yes, I did say that, but how was I supposed to know that they would show up the day after our wedding expecting a full meal?
“Okay,” I reasoned with him, trying my best to thaw out the glare he was giving me. “I said we would talk about it… I didn’t know. But we can’t just turn them away!”
“The fuck we can’t!” he fussed.
“Brickly,” I scolded, arms crossed and lip stuck out.
“Man… Fuck!” he whined as he stood up and walked off, mumbling. “I can’t have shit! Can’t even have my muhfuckin’ wife to myself on our damn honeymoon!”
I giggled as I got dressed in a hurry before rushing out to greet them.
“Hey,” I said with a huge smile while trying not to laugh at Brick pouting over in the corner.
“Hey,” Pistol grumbled like he would rather be anywhere else but there, even though no one made him show up.
“What’s good, sis? What we eating? We brought groceries,” Kilo greeted, immediately earning a mean side eye from Pistol. “I mean… P brought some, but I helped carry them in.”
“Well, thank you for that,” I said with a smile, turning and heading into the kitchen. “Oh…” My mouth dropped at the spread in front of me. Fresh eggs, fruit, and vegetables lined the entire countertop.
“Pistol… Where did you even get all this?” I asked, looking back at him in confusion.
“I got a plug,” he answered with a dismissive shrug.
I didn’t ask any more questions. Aside from a quick peek in to watch my husband drink his morning coffee that day, I hadn’t spent much time in the huge, updated kitchen.
The time I did spend in there, I was too busy counting Brick’s abs to take inventory.
I took a quick look around and decided on a simple spread of fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, and a side salad.
Next time I would go bigger, since I’d have more notice, but the three of them seemed to appreciate it either way, going back for seconds and thirds.
“Welp… It was nice of y’all to stop by. Thanks for the fruit and shit!” Brick scoffed the minute they finished their food. Kilo looked from him to me and back again.
“Wait… We can’t watch a lil’ movie or something? It’s only six o’clock!” I let out a chuckle before giving him a small nod. He ran off to the living room like a little kid as Pistol slowly followed him. Brick, on the other hand, walked up behind me.
“You know you owe me for this, right?” he fussed as he gently bit my ear, making me jump.
“I cooked for you, too. So consider us even. Plus, Kilo said y’all try to do this with your mom all the time, but something always comes up.
Let him have this!” I scolded, holding onto his arm as he walked me towards the living room where Pistol and Kilo had already posted up in their respective places.
“Damn, and here I thought that by getting married, I would get to see less of y’all niggas!” Brick grumbled.
“He didn’t mean that!” I fussed, as I elbowed him in the ribs. “You two are welcome over here anytime you want!”
Kilo looked over at Brick with a pleased smile that made me laugh.
“So,” I started as I sat down on the couch. Brick sat next to me and pulled me closer. At least he wasn’t that mad. “What are we watching?” I asked.
“Mortal Kombat,” Kilo answered. “The new one just dropped, so we started with the first one.”
“You got me fucked up if y’all think y’all staying here for both of these long ass movies!” Brick grumbled.
“Umm… Okay,” I said with a weary glance towards the TV, flinching as a character was brutally murdered on screen. Pistol hadn’t said a word the entire time. He just sat with his eyes locked on the movie like he was picking up moves.
“Peep,” Brick said, pulling my face to his. “You ain’t never seen Mortal Kombat before?”
“No,” I answered, cringing again at more on-screen violence.
By the midway mark of the first movie, I had loosened up a little bit, but by the end of the second, I was cheering Kitana on louder than Kilo and making a note to check out a kickboxing class in the area.
Brick just looked at me and laughed, squeezing me tighter every time I settled back into his arms.