As he made some calls, I reached out to Mora. Of course, I apologized for my behavior the other night, and she used every curse word in the book to describe how she felt. Eventually, she agreed to accompany me on this vacation… if that’s what you’d call it. After ending the call, I barely had time to put the phone down before Nyce was all over me.
His hands were on my hips, firm, guiding me to bend over the edge of the mattress like it wasn’t up for discussion. I didn’t argue. I couldn’t. I was still trying to hold myself together, but he already knew what I needed. Hell, what we both needed.
I felt the hard press of him against the thin fabric of my boy shorts, and my knees damn near gave out. His palm slid up my spine until it was at the back of my neck, holding me in place.
“Fuck,” he grunted, and the sound of him unbuckling his belt echoed like a countdown. “You got me gone, Princess.”
My breath caught. “Me too.”
Then, I left the heat of him pulsing between my thighs as he pushed inside of me. I cried out, hands gripping the sheets as he filled me completely, stretching me deep in one go. He groaned low behind me, both hands gripping my hips like he was trying to memorize the shape and feel of me.
Each thrust hit with an intensity that said everything he wasn’t saying out loud. The kind that pulled moans straight from my chest and made my thighs tremble. “Oh God… yessss!!!”
The mattress creaked, and the headboard thudded once, twice, then fell into a rhythm. He leaned over me, body blanketing mine, his breath hot on my neck as his chain swung and slapped my back.
“This shit ain’t easy… fucking with a nigga like me,” he muttered, his voice tight, teeth gritted as he drove into me again. “I’m not easy to love, Princess.”
“I know…” My brain told me to say more, but the words wouldn’t come. All I could do was gasp, cry out, and push back against him like my body needed to hold on to this moment.
He cursed low, dragged his hand up my side, then grabbed a fistful of my tank top and pulled me up. I arched back into him, mouth parted, chest heaving. His arm wrapped tight aroundmy waist, and the angle changed. Nyce’s strokes hit deeper and rougher.
I whimpered, eyes fluttering. “Please stay alive.”
He stilled for a split second. Then his hand slid between my legs, found that spot, and rubbed slow, deliberate circles as he kept stroking deep. “I’m not going anywhere,” he rasped.
It hit something inside me. I clamped around him without warning, body trembling, eyes squeezing shut as my orgasm snapped through me. I sobbed his name, legs shaking, and he didn’t stop. He gripped my waist, cursed under his breath, and kept going until his rhythm got ragged, desperate.
“Get on top,” he said suddenly, pulling out. I turned, dazed, breathless. He sat on the edge of the bed, legs apart, stroking his dick with one hand, jaw locked tight. “Come here.”
I climbed into his lap, straddling him, my thighs sticky and trembling, and sank down. We both moaned. My hands pressed to his chest, and his arms wrapped around me like he wasn’t sure when he’d be able to touch me again. I moved slowly, grinding into him and rolling my hips.
He cursed again, head falling back, teeth clenched. “Damn, girl. What the fuck are you doing to me?”
I kissed his neck, his jaw, his mouth. “Letting you in.” I kept moving only deeper and faster.
“Just like that,” he groaned. Then, Nyve slid his hands under my ass and guided my rhythm. His lips parted against mine with quiet grunts and whispered words that made no sense and made everything make sense at the same time.
I clenched around him again and released a flood, gasping for air along the ride. He came right after, body stiffening, arms tightening, his face buried between my breasts as he exhaled roughly against my skin. His heartbeat was a hammer against my chest. And even though nothing was certain outside these four walls, I felt safe.
