She kissed me back, deeper, her hands coming up to grip the front of my shirt. “I’ll have Fontaine hunt you down andkill you if you break my heart,” she whispered against my lips.
I wanted to laugh but held her tighter, greedy for the weight of her in my arms. I wanted to remember this—the floral scent of her perfume, the way she softened when she stopped fighting me.
I took her hand and led her down the hall.
The bedroom was dark except for the strips of light coming through the blinds, lying across the sheets in thin gold lines. Drea didn’t say anything as she tugged her sweater over her head. The way she kept her eyes on me while she did it made my dick twitch.
I pulled off my shirt and sank to my knees in front of her, drawing her to the edge of the bed.
She sucked in a sharp breath as my hands moved up her thighs, spreading them just enough for me to see how wet she was. I pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee first—then higher, taking my time because Drea deserved to be savored. I’d been stealing pieces of her for years. Tonight I was having all of her.
She shivered as my nose grazed along her slick folds and I breathed her in.
“Melo—” she jerked when my mouth found her, a broken sound catching in her throat.
I held her hips in place and kept going. I needed to burn this into my memory—something to hold onto through whatever was coming.
I latched onto her clit until her breathing turned ragged. My hands tightened on her when she tried to push me head away.
She shattered with a cry, her thighs clamping around my head, back arching off the bed.
I stood and stepped out of my sweats, watching her push herself up on her elbows—chest heaving, cheeksflushed.
“This how you gon’ remember me,” I said, voice low. “As your man. As the nigga who knows exactly what to do with you.”
Drea reached up and pulled me down to her, kissing me as I pushed inside her. I swallowed the sound she made, stopping short before I bottomed out.
“Carmelo—” she whined.
“Who am I to you, D?” I asked, giving her the little thrusts that I knew would drive her crazy.
Her mouth fell open. Her eyes rolled back. But she was still fighting—still holding back that last piece the way she’d been doing for years.
I pulled out until it was just the tip. “Andrea.”
I watched her internal battle. Watched her fight, what her body was screaming for, what her heart already knew, what her pride had been guarding so fiercely.
“Don’t call me that,” she said, barely above a whisper.
“Then tell me who I am to you.”
Her eyes found mine and held them, lips trembling, not because she was scared of me. But because she was scared of how close she was to giving in.
“Baby,” she breathed.
“Nuh uh.” I eased back into her slowly, inch by inch, watching her eyes flutter. “Answer the question.”
Drea’s eyes squeezed shut again. A tear slipped from the corner of her eyes and rolled into her hair.
“You’re mine,” she said, voice cracking on the last word. “You’ve always been mine.”
My chest tightened so hard it almost hurt. “And?”
I bent forward and pulled her nipple into my mouth and felt her tighten around me in response.
“My man,” she breathed, fingers digging into my back. “You’re my man, Carmelo.”
“Say the rest, Dre.”
