"Romelo..." she sighed, her body relaxing slightly. "Let me get up."
"What you 'bout to do?" I asked, genuinely curious. "You already showered. The house is clean. We ate. Why you in such a fuckin' rush to get up when I want you right here with me?"
I shifted my hips slightly, making sure she could feel my dick pressing against her through our clothes.
"I know you feel how hard you got me," I added, my voice barely above a whisper.
She let out a soft moan, her eyes fluttering closed for a second. "Romelo... what are we doing?"
Her curls had fallen loose from her ponytail, framing her face. A few strands stuck to her forehead from the light sheen of sweat.
She looked beautiful. Vulnerable. Real.
"What it look like we doin' right now?" I said, my hands sliding up her sides, my thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts. "We showered. We ate. Now we're about to fuck. I ain't asking you for permission because I don't need it. This is mine."
I purposefully ground my hips up, pressing my dick harder against her pussy.
She gasped, her nails digging into my chest.
"Just let me get a dose of this good shit before I lose my motherfuckin' mind," I groaned.
Synthia was intoxicating.
Every touch. Every sound she made. Every time she looked at me with those eyes—half-afraid, half-wanting—it made me crave her more.
I ain't never been strung out off pussy in my life. But Synthia? She had me feenin' like a junkie.
"This has to be the craziest shit I've ever gotten myself into," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.
"There ain't no denying that," I agreed, my hands now fully palming her ass. "But this crazy shit has gotten you ten timesricher than you were before. You got enough money to put your grandkids through college. That's a flex."
I bit down on my lip as my fingertips traced slow circles on her lower back, feeling goosebumps rise under my touch.
"And I'll let you have it all in exchange for freedom," she said quietly.
My grip tightened.
Those words—freedom—hit me like a punch to the gut.
"You know what happened the last time you said some shit like that," I warned, my voice dark.
She leaned forward, her hands pressing into my chest, her face inches from mine. The scent of her lotion—cocoa butter and vanilla—mixed with that peach perfume she always wore.
"You can't use your life as a pawn every time I say something you don't like," she argued, her voice stronger now. "Start being accountable for your own actions. I didn't start this war."
"Then who did?" I shot back, my voice rising. "How the fuck did you think I was gonna respond when you tried to sell me back iPhones that you stole from me? You think I wouldn't have killed anybody else for that shit?"
I paused, letting that sink in.
"My nigga Allen is maggot food right now because of you. I'm territorial when it comes to my money. I don't play. This ain't some fairy tale where everything goes your way just because you want it to."
She bit her lip, looking away.
"I had plans for you from the jump," I continued, my voice softer now. "This wasn't random. This wasn't some impulsive shit. I've wanted you for a long time, Synthia."
"The deeper you go, the more I realize how much I can't take," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"I determine how much you can take," I said firmly, my hands gripping her hips. "Not you. Let me be the one to decidethat. You're gonna take whatever I give you—money, dick, all of it."
