Princess
Monday | 1:12am
The water washot enough to steam up the glass, and I stayed under it longer than necessary, letting it beat against my shoulders while my mind refused to shut off. Nyce’s voice, his eyes, the way that kiss shouldn’t have happened, and yet kept replaying anyway. I hated how my body remembered him before my pride could stop it.
My hand drifted without permission, slowly finding my clit. I chased that familiar, quick release to quiet the ache twisting low in my belly. I was right there, breath uneven, head tipped back, when a knock sounded at the bathroom door.
I froze, then slowly peeked my head out past the glass to see Nyce setting a towel and folded clothes on the counter. He didn’tsay a word or even look at me, but I couldn’t help looking at him.God, help me.
His chiseled chest was exposed, muscles flexing, tattoos seemingly more dangerous. He wore a pair of black basketball shorts that hung low on his hips, socks, and slides, with his chains resting against his skin. I forced myself to look away before my body betrayed me again and muttered a quiet, “Thank you,” hoping my voice didn’t give me away.
Steam lingered in the bathroom as I rinsed off, letting the heat chase the tension in my body down the drain. My thoughts stayed messy, just like everything about this situation. I finished cleansing myself, then stepped out slowly, wrapping the towel around my body.
Catching my reflection in the mirror, I whispered to myself, “You can’t like him, Princess. What the hell? Hekidnappedyou. He’s trouble.”
After I dried off and lotioned with the cocoa butter Nyce left on the sink, I reached for the silk two-piece pajama set. That’s when I heard voices speaking in low, urgent, and hushed tones. I paused and stilled myself to listen.
“It coulda been that preacher nigga or the council muthafucka,” Crook’s voice muttered.
“Definitely wasn’t Zeke. Broke ass can’t afford a hit,” another voice I didn’t recognize spoke.
“It was Brandon tryna come for his bride,” Nyce snapped. “This nigga is grasping at whatever to get her. She ain’t goingnowhere untilIfucking say so, but for damn sure ain’t going with that nigga.”
I slipped into the pajamas slowly, the silk cool against my skin. The voices dropped even lower until I couldn’t make out much more. When I finally opened the bathroom door to step out, the conversation cut clean like a sharp knife. Nyce stood there, one hand holding a blunt, the other in his pocket. He blew out a stream of smoke, eyes cool.
“Go in the bedroom,” he said, not asking.
I sucked my teeth and rolled my eyes as I brushed past him. Down the hall, I found a dimly lit bedroom all warm and cozy with a fireplace going. There was something intimate about it.
I was still taking it all in when a knock came at the door. I walked over and slowly opened it. Nyce stood there, his gaze low and glassy. Locked on me, watching every breath I took. The wayhe looked at me made goosebumps appear on my skin. It was as if he were trying to figure out if I was a threat, a puzzle, or temptation. Still, neither of us said a word.
And then, his hand wrapped around my neck with just enough pressure to make my heart race faster. Then he kissed me, and it wasn’t soft or gentle. It was hard, wet, and hungry like he needed it just to breathe. I could taste the liquor on his tongue as it met mine and I moaned into his mouth before I could stop myself. His grip tightened on my neck, and I felt my skin heating, my nipples pebbling through the silk, and my pussy pulsing like it was begging for more.
I should’ve pulled away, but I didn’t. Nyce walked me back slowly, still kissing me like he was pissed about how much he needed this. When the backs of my legs hit the bed, he grabbed my hips, picked me up, and laid me flat like it wasn’t up for debate.
“Nyce…” I breathed, trying to find some logic in the storm building inside me. But he was already peeling my shorts and panties down, tossing them like they didn’t matter. He dropped to his knees and yanked my legs apart before I could think twice. “What…”
“I’ve been tryna stay away from this shit,” he muttered, looking at my pussy like it was the last meal on Earth. “But I can’t no more.”
And then his mouth was on me. The first flick of his tongue made me cry out. My back arched off the bed, and my legs instinctively tried to close, but his hands were already lockedaround my thighs, keeping me wide open. He licked me slowly at first, like he was tasting something forbidden.
“Fuck,” he muttered, shaking his head. Then his mouth started moving as if it had something to prove.
“Oh my God…” I gasped, my hand flying to the back of his head.
He groaned like I’d said something he liked and pushed his face deeper between my thighs. I couldn’t think or even breathe straight. Every swirl of his tongue and every suck of my clit sent a fresh wave of heat through my body. He moved like he knew exactly where my soul lived and was determined to drag it out of me with his mouth.
I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. My toes curled as my fingers dug into his braids. “Nyce… please…”
He moaned into my pussy and kept going, flicking his tongue faster, sucking harder, working like he was trying to ruin me for anybody else. The orgasm built quickly, tearing through me before I could prepare for it. I screamed his name, shaking, legs trembling as I came all over his face.
And he didn’t move. He stayed there, lips still wrapped around my clit as I rode it out, crying and panting and falling apart. When Nyce finally pulled back, his face was glistening, his goatee soaked, and his eyes were wild. Every logical thought I had about danger, about not getting too close, about keeping control had left. I wanted him. Badly. And just when I assumed the moment was about to happen, he switched from hot to cold.
He raised slowly, licking his bottom lip. His chest rose and fell with an intensity that made my stomach flutter. And those eyes, dark and heavy lidded, locked on me like I was the one who crossed the line. Then, he backed away from the bed.
“You should get some sleep,” he said, voice low and unreadable.
I blinked. “What?”
