The silent, extremely complicated power dynamic between us was exposed with each decision we made. Every moment of submission was a precursor for the dominance she was inherent in. It was in her blood. It was in her build.
She was struggling to keep it at bay. It was satisfying experiencing her struggles while I had every intention to nail her ungodly ass to the cross every fucking day my dick stood and her pussy welcomed it.
For now, I’d allow the quiet battle. Because, undoubtedly, the war was already won. I simply wasn’t prepared to be the bearer of bad news. Not while her pussy was this wet and my dick was this fucking hard.
“Ish–”
“Play with that pussy, my baby. Show me how well you take care of my shit.”
Edging Royce had become the highlight of my evening.
And to think, I believed shooting a nigga would be.
I traveled to Clarke with a full clip, hoping to be missing one upon my return. But, the nigga sitting across from Royce was as pussy as the one I was enjoying the kneading of.
“That’s it,” I coaxed, taking my dick into my hand again. “That’s it.”
I tilted my head, sure to get every angle of her meatiness. Royce was unbelievable. I wanted all parts of her. The good. Bad. Pretty. Ugly. Problematic. Hard-headed. Emotional. Toxic. Tamed. Untamed. Disciplined. Determined. Sassy. Sad. Sweet. Salty. All of her. No discounts.
“Uhhhh. Fuuuuuuck.”
Royce’s rhythm was steady, unchanging. She was aiming for her mountain’s top. Her climax was within reach. I wanted to tear her down, breaking her concentration. However, my limbs were unreachable.
“I’m gonna— oooohhhh, Ishmael.”
The way she said my name like that. So softly. So deeply. So surely. So pleasantly.
“Mmmmm. Uhh. Fuc– Uh.”
I lost my way again. Darkness surrounded me. Warmth consoled me. Royce’s hands found me. So did her voice.
“Open your eyes, Ishmael.”
Her request was granted, but not without cost. She was no longer on the counter. She was on me. One foot in the chair to my right. One foot in the chair to my left. Her pussy hovered over the head of my dick.
“Look at me.”
I didn’t have any other choice. All I could do was look at her.
So pretty. So perfect.
She lowered her contracting pussy onto my treetop, disregarding my tightened fist. I released my shaft, allowing her the freedom to slide down until her ass touched my thighs.
I released a shaky breath. Heaven and earth joined beyond the seams. Part of my world intertwined with hers.
Simultaneously, the glasshouse I’d built around my heart shattered. Shards of glass promised to draw blood should I dare try piecing it back together. I didn’t want to. I wanted whatever the terrain presented.Whatever Royce brought my way.
Plush walls engulfed my hardness. Contractions protested for the extraction of my semen. And, I wanted out. But, just as much, I wanted in.
Forever.
This moment never had to fade. As we were, we could remain.
Nothing mattered right here. With her. In her.
“Ishmael,” she moaned, placing both hands on my shoulders.
Stabilization would be the death of this moment. I despised and desired it simultaneously. Royce’s lips pressed against mine as her body lifted.
