Page 25 of A Don & His Doll

His thumb traced slow circles along her thigh, loving the way her body instantly responded to his touch. He’d watched the movie with Promise, but he really didn’t give a damn about the details. Promise was his choice, and that was all there was to it.

His touch.

His gaze.

His actions had all spoken for him in ways Promise didn’t need his words to solidify.

“I did some shit today I never thought I’d do,” he said, moving his eyes from her thick thighs to her eyes.

“What did you do?” Promise quizzed, doing her best to ignore her clit as it swelled beneath the thin lace panties she wore.

Monroe lightly tapped her thigh, signaling for her to lift it, so he could sit up. As Promise lay back on the plush pillow, watching as Monroe removed his shirt. When he turned around, his new tattoo instantly caught Promises’ attention.

Her breath caught. “Oh my God, Monroe. When did you get this?” she asked, tracing the transparent replica of her face resting above his heart with the words My Doll scripted above it.

“I got it a few days ago,” he shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal.

This was the reason Monroe had Promises’ heart and soul in a chokehold. He may have never told her he loved her, but he showed her every chance he got. Where she was from, men weren’t keen on getting their woman’s name on their body, much less their faces. The endearment was intentional in a way that gave those forever-type of vibes that even a blind woman could see. The beautiful stream of tears that flowed from Promises’ eyes were proof that she’d been moved by the act.

Monroe didn’t speak, he just waited patiently to hear her voice. To receive her approval after he’d made a permanent decision on a whim because it felt right.

“It’s beautiful, baby. I love it,” Promise confirmed as Monroe kissed her tears away.

“You mean everything to me, Doll. Nigga ain’t want to live another second without doin’ somethin’ to prove I’m all about you. You got a nigga mind gone, baby,” Monroe said honestly. “Now lay back and let a nigga suck on that good ass pussy, Doll. I need to taste you right now, baby.”

Without a second thought, Promise obeyed his command, lifting from the bed as Monroe tugged her panties down. Spreading her thighs east and west, her swollen clit peeped instantaneously. Teasing him. Daring and damn near begging him to come get her shit. Monroe was a strong man, but he weakened under the spell Promises’ pussy had over him. The way her nectar oozed out of her like hot, sticky glaze was a mind-fuck in itself. Pretty ass fuckin’ pussy, he thought while lowering his face to her glistening treasure. Her pussy was drenched for him.

“Mmm,” Monroe groaned. “Why the fuck this pussy so fuckin’ wet, doll?” He asked, catching a contact at the first whiff of her sex, his senses heightening as he inhaled her custom scent.

It wasn’t sweet, savory, or fruity. Just clean, natural, and tantalizing. She was a living aphrodisiac, and he couldn’t get enough of her. He quickly raised the hood of her pussy and found her clit with his warm tongue, and manipulated it with so much hunger, her back curved in pleasure. Promises’ hands recoiled, gripping his head, and smothering his face in her wetness.

“Yes, baby. Eat all this fucking pussy. Umm,” she moaned, encouraging him to continue.

Slow and steady. Monroe applied the perfect amount of pressure to Promises’ clit, ready for her to coat his tongue with her essence. He did that shit so unapologetically. Pressing two fingers into her gushy pussy, He made her sexy ass thighs quiver as he massaged her walls with slow urgency… An urgency that woke up her deepest desire, and commanded her inner freak to wake up. He needed her to tap into that freak in her, so she could handle the way he planned to lay dick to her. She had to be ready to keep up.

“Sss… fuck baby. I’m about to cum,” Promise confessed as her clit hardened under Monroe’s tongue lashing.

“Feed me, Doll,” Monroe spoke into her pussy, then sped the pace of his tongue.

He flicked it back and forth skilfully while listening to the directives of her body as it spoke to him. The shit was empowering, and he took mental notes, determined not to miss one detail. Couldn’t afford not to pick up what she put down. He was invested into bringing her body ultimate pleasure.

The way she moved under his touch.

The yearning behind every moan.

It was all preparation for what was coming next.

“Ughn… Ughn…Ughn,” Promise moaned, as she fed her man just like he’d told her to.

Monroe savored her slowly, as if he’d discovered something rare in a world that had already given him everything money could buy. He drank from her like a man who had wandered the desert far too long without relief, indulging in her essence with patience and intention. There was nothing rushed about the way he loved on her. Nothing careless about the way he worshiped her body.

Every touch.

Every breath.

Every movement had so much pleasure attached to it, the padding of his fingers transferred a yearning so deep, Promise was behooved to fill him to capacity. Sharing her peace, her soul, and her love. Monroe understood that what they shared wasn’t just physical… it was spiritual in the way they became one. The way her juices sat on his tongue was all-consuming. His mind was blown because when Monroe made love to Promise it wasn't just about desire… It was about possessing her heart, and honoring the woman who had somehow softened the hardest parts of him without ever asking him to become someone else. Each time he kissed her lower lips, sucked her clit, and moved his two fingers in and out of her clit with precision, she had felt his strength, his power, and his love all over her. She was a fucking mess. Promise came completely undone in the hands of her man, and she loved every second of exposure, but they were just getting started. Monroe knew her spot. He knew how to take her there, and he did it. He stayed right there until he felt her body calm.

“Baby, can I ride that dick tonight?” Promise asked boldly.