Annie & Smoke Fanpage🤎

A/n: Soooo uhmm.... I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I dont write, and I surely dont write stuff like this so be easy on a girl, cuz Idk what the fuck Im doing😩😭

Just know Im doing my best, lol

And if your a minor... Dont read this shit bruh.😭

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As soon as the door to the library closed behind her she moved swiftly through the darkened corridors like the devil was on her heels. Her night robe gently swayed every which way at the speed of her gate. She clutched the robe tighter to her body.

She felt off balance. Like her skin was too tight for the body it was wrapped around. She felt hot everywhere despite the chill of the night. A prickle of moisture just beneath the surface of her skin was lying in wait to eventually perspire down her body was ever lingering. Her heart was racing, and it wasnt just from the speed at which she walked.

Damn him, she cursed in her mind.

Most of the staff had gone to bed by this time. The only people occupying the halls were a sparse few royal gaurds, as most of them were concentrated on the outskirts of the property. They gave small bows to her as she passed by, she gave a brief curtsy and bid them goodnight.

She finally reached her chambers after what felt like hours, eventhough at max it was closer to five minutes. Somehow heading back from the library to her room felt longer than heading to the library to find her frustrating husband.

Despite her erratic movements from before, she closed the door slowly with a quiet click careful to not wake anyone nearby. As soon as the door closed behind her she leaned her back against its cool surface, letting out the longest sigh into the empty room. The cool wood, juxtaposed to the heat emitting off her frame had a small calming affect on her.

It didnt last long.

An irritation of two kinds bubbled to the surface. She clenched her jaw, "The fuckin' nerve on that man." Annie could hardly recall any man doing something like that to her.

But what pissed her off even more, was the fact that he had her in such a vulnerable position so easily and she didnt put up any fight. How docile she got just from a little handling from him. She just let herself land in the palm of his hand, and the things he was saying to her-

She covered her face with her hands letting out a bemused groan. Sitting right beside the anger she was feeling, was embarrassment.

The way I just asked that man to tell me what he'd do to me. That was way out of character for her. Even if it wasnt- it cut too close to begging for her comfort. It was even worse knowing that if he pushed just a little more she would've shamelessly let him do whatever he wanted to her right there in that library. Propriety be damned.

Made her almost forget herself. Something he seemed to have the knack for doing. It was getting out of control, even worse now that he now knew that she wasnt nearly as against his advances as previously let on.

He did all that, put her in a vulnerable position, leaving her wanting, just to pull away suddenly? Make demands? Talkin' 'bout how he'll keep doin' her like this 'till she confesses that she wants him as much as he wants her. If she was in her right mind she would've cussed his ass out- 'cause how dare he?

But instead she fled.

A man never made her run as much as he did. He was just so... intense when he's ready. Far from the men she was used to dealing with.

She placed a hand to her chest. Her heart was still beating rapidly, and she could feel every trecherous pulse of it beating right between her thighs. Like a constant reminder of the affect he had on her body... On her.

She grunted, pushing herself stiffly off the door and went straight to her bed, rearranging the pillows in the way she liked for sleep. She put the rest of the decorative pillows onto the ottoman that sat at the foot of her bed.

Once it was set to her liking, she grabbed her silk bonnet, turned off the singular light in the room that casted a warm glow across the room, and eased her way under the silk sheets. She shimmied her body around until she found a position that felt just right, and closed her eyes.

It seemed that the position she chose didnt sit quiet right with her. She didnt feel her body sink into the feeling of sleep like she wanted so she switched positions again, facing the curtained glass doors that led outside to their shared balcony, trying to melt into the bed and relax her body.

It didnt feel right again, her neck and chest still felt hot.

That incessant heat that settled low in her belly had not cooled down.

She was restless. She turned on her stomach, which became equally as uncomfortable after a while, her chest was pressing a bit into her ribs. She flipped over to her side again, hand tucked under her head as she stared into space in her darkened room, letting out a frustrated breath.

She flipped on to her back, eyes to the ceiling. Sleep was struggling to find her, a buzzing energy settled underneath her skin. That consistent pulse that she felt between her thighs was not going away, refusing to allow sleep to find her. The heat in her belly had not cooled down, every change of position, every movement of her legs added pressure exactly to where she was starting to ache. A temptation to touch was steady growing-

No. She refused.

He dont deserve my pleasure.

It seemed like her refusal made the throbbing worse. A budding wetness made its self known, she clenched her legs in hopes that it would stop it from getting any worse.

It didnt.

Her mind kept buzzing with the words he said, the way he touched her, wrapped his strong arms around her soft waist, how easily he maneuvered her around as she was by no means a petite woman. The feel of her body pressed against his. How for a second of insanity she purposefully brushed her hips against his when he spun her around to get an Idea of what he was carrying in those undergarments of his.

She was not disappointed... far from it as a matter of fact.

Those thick, full lips of his- She briefly imagined what they would look like between her legs- his wide callous hands wrapped around her thick thighs as he took his fill of her...

She clenched, her legs crossed between eachother tightened the slightest bit more.

A trecherous need to quench the fire that was building was steady growing. Her fingers twitched.

But once again she refused.

Like if she touched herself off the back of what just happened she would be admitting defeat of some nonsensical game they were playing with eachother. 'Cause thats exactly what it was, and thats what he was playing at. For her to give in to him. Her ego couldnt allow something like that, for some reason a paranoid, unreasonable part of her mind believed that if she touched herself to the thoughts of him, he would know in some way.

Knowing him, he would never let her have peace if he ever knew and with the last words he left her with he clearly had no intentions of coming up off from her.

She scoffed into the empty room, he has enough audacity drippin' off him to drown the whole kingdom with his annoyin' ass.

She resolved herself to simply refuse thinking about him. Veering into thoughts of duties that she had to take care of as a distraction, old wrinkled faces of the elders . In a way it did work... almost immediately dosing the fire building in her to just embers.

Her sleep was very fitful.

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Annie was not in a good mood.

Her lips seemingly stuck in a twisted in a frown as she rubbed at her puffy eyelids.

She didnt get nearly as much sleep as she would've wanted and it made her feel highly irritable. All thanks to Smoke.

The thought of his name crossing her mind made her grimace, but as always, a quiet knock at the door shifted her attention. She already had an idea of who it was before the door was cracked open.

"Goodmorning my Queen." Ruth piped cheerfully as she fluttered about the royal chambers, followed closely by Pearline, her smooth voice wafting across the room, "I hope you got yourself some good rest."

The queen kissed her teeth.

There was no way in hell she was gonna tell Pearline the reasoning behind her lack of sleep. Still, not wanting to be rude she answered anyways, prim, proper, and formal, "It was fine. Thank you for asking." Short and sweet.

The response made her friend lift a curious brow, but Pearline knowing Annie as well as she did made the choice to leave it for now. As stubborn as the queen was, trying to wrestle out what was troubling her was like pulling teeth.

She'll tell me when she's ready... Atleast I hope she does...

She made a beeline towards Anisa's closet, looking for a gown of the day.

Annie moved to her vanity and Ruth started on getting her hair in order, as the, usually, timid girl quietly rattled off about what kind of new braidstyles were in at the moment and if Annie wanted to try any. Annie let her choose what style the queen would wear for the day, " I trust that you wont have me out here lookin' crazy Ruth, go on an' choose a style for me." Lending the young girl a soft smile.

She figured giving the girl some freedom would aid in building up her confidence, make her feel more sure of herself. She could tell it was working little by little as the young girls footsteps no longer sounded like she didnt want to be heard, sounding more sure of herself, like she belonged here.

Annie turned her eyes toward Pearline sorting through her clothes and noticed the pointed absence of Mary... Once again. The last conversation she shared with her other friend crossing her mind " Why Mary aint with yall today?"

Pearline paused, before letting out an irritable huff "I dont know what's up with her, she all sulky an' she refuse to tell me whats wrong- oh, what color you feelin' today Ann'?", she added, still focused on the task at hand.

"Im feelin' red, -You know what got her down enough that she dont feel the need to show her face round here an' shirk her responsibilities?" Annie raised a manicured brow, her dormant irritation threatening to breach the surface.

"Girl, she aint tell me a thing-but judgin' by how she look at me with enough heat to set me on fire since her twin kissed my hand? I can think up a thing or two." Pearline finally wrenched out a warm red gown, just shy of looking almost orange. "How you feel 'bout this color. Its not a solid red, but I think it'll look real nice against your skin."

"Looks nice Pearl, I like it..." the queen trailed off, there was a thought plaguing her mind and she was deliberating on how much she wanted to divulge, if she wanted to say anything at all. From how things were looking there was already a simmering tension between Pearl and Mary, she decided against it for now. But she will most certainly have a conversation with Mary.

Cause clearly what I told her aint go through that thick skull of hers.

After Pearline and Ruth made their final touches on her outfit, Annie had an urge to take a stroll outside the estate walls before taking on the stress of the day.

She looked at the clock and knew forsure she'd have enough time to.

Just before the two ladies were about to excuse themselves for the rest of the morning, Annie spoke up,

"Before yall leave... would yall like to... Go on a walk with me?"

While she was met with enthusiasm with Ruth giving an immediate yes, Pearline paused for a second, face wrought with subdued suprise because, when was the last time the queen, her friend, offered to hangout outside of obligated times?

Annie's anxiety starting to bleed into her nerves as each second ticked by without a response from Pearline. She contemplated taking back the offer. She didnt want to make her long time friend feel as if she was obligated to just because she was monarch.

She didnt have to wait much longer because soon her worries were calmed when a warm smile slowly spread Pearlines lips, one that could be heard in her voice when she spoke."Which route you wanna take?"

"Let's go to some of the walkways just outside the estate, someplace I can exhale without my breath feelin' restricted. Its too stuffy up in here." Annie fidgeted around, unconsciously proving her own point.

"Girl, I thought you'd never ask- c'mon Ruth!" Pearline motioned excitedly.

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"Im not gone lie Anisa, I dont know how you do it. Even me bein' here a few days back Im already startin' to feel stale. Like some old bread. Them few weeks I spent visitin' family- even with my ancient husband, was such a nice change of pace... You need a vacation or somethin' that takes you outta here for a little while, take a little edge off."

"I already had a vacation. I had a honey moon." Annie supplied confidently, brushing off the suggestion.

"-Which was still spent here and knowing you? A majority of that time was spent actin' like that man you married aint exist..." Pearline turned to Annie, her gaze expectant.

"I... It wasnt that bad, I allowed him to help me with my garden." The queen crossed her arms, and if Pearline was in her right mind she could've sworn it looked like the queen was pouting.

"You 'allowed' him?"

"Yeah, after I discovered he wouldnt stop pesturing me. I figured I might as well have given him somethin' to do."

"Anisa. Theres no way in hell you both felt refreshed from somethin' like that. An' seein' the way you two loom around eachother in all that loaded silence yall both walk around here with? You two carry enough tension to set this whole place on fire."

Annie stiffened, was it that obvious?

Almost as if Pearline read her mind, she Annie patted her on the back with a delicate hand, "Dont worry, aint nothin' obvious when it come to you an' that husband of yours. But I know you Anisa..." she trailed off.

A tension of a different sort say between them. One of a disconnection and a friends past unsuccessful efforts to be close once more.

Ruth, sensing a shift in the atmosphere between the two women slowed her steps giving them some space, before wandering off the trail into the long grass fields, a small movement between the blades caught her attention.

"Dont go too far now!" Anisa called, before she quieted down again, looking somewhere into the distance. She heard Ruth's response back, but didnt fully registered what the girl said.

Pearline didnt speak for a moment, panic in her mind started to set in. Feeling like she ruined what could've been a simple nice one on one outting with her closest friend that she hadnt had the chance to have in God knows how long. She should've been satisfied with just that... she shouldve-

"Hhm..." Annie breathed with introspection. "When you put it that way... I guess you gotta point. Might have to plan a vacation sometime. By myself." She asserted.

"You aint takin' Smoke with you?"

"His ass can stay here an build a damn castle from the ground up for all I care, since he got his nose stuck in all them damn architect books. He irritatin'."

Pearline chuckled, taking note of her friends stiff, closed off posture. While Anisa has been mostly herself, she could feel a buzzing energy of irritation surrounding her. She always had one, as she was having to constantly deal with egos and incompetency at times, she was always good at hiding it for the most part.

But today, she could tell Annie needed to get something off her chest, wether it was steam or something else entirely. Clearly as far as Pearline could tell, the source of her deepened ire was quiet obviously directed towards the king.

"He done anything wrong by you?" Pearline question seriously.

"No... maybe.." the previous annoyance on the queens face morphed between a strange mix of irritation and bashfulness. Her lips twinge.

Interesting

Though Anisa didnt say anything, Pearline had an idea of what it was that was bothering the queen.

"Anisa."

The weight in which Pearline uttered her name immediately drew Annies attention, she turned her eyes towards her friend.

"If this comes off as oversteppin', Im sorry but... have yall been intimate?"

"..."

"-Not that you gotta answer or anything. I just- well... I know what its like to feel a bit frustrated from the lack of, ehm..." Pearline looked towards Ruth wanting to know if she was within ear shot. Not because she felt it was a subject too grown for her ears, she was almost a woman grown and should be aware of these kinds of conversations, but because she didnt want to broach a personal subject of the Queen while others could be with in earshot.

"Hmph!" Annie let out a derisive snort, a scowl twisted her glossed lips.

Pearline stopped in her tracks, eyes widened. "Wait!... Annie" she said in disbelief. Her mind working into over drive. It wasnt an answer, but it was an answer.

Annie turned around, confused by the sudden outburst. "Huh... Girl what's wrong with you? Whatchu doin' all that for?"

"Annie... Anisa."

"Yes Pearl? You better start sayin' somethin' 'cause you 'bout to piss me off."

"Oh hush Anne, like you dont walk 'round here on the edge of cussin' somebody out all the time... as a matter of fact its only gotten worse since that Smoke of yours came along..." she stiffled a fit of laughter trying to escape.

"He aint my Smoke" she huffed, folding her arms across her chest.

"Well you sure is his Annie though..." Pearline teased cheekily, a chesire grin spread across her mouth.

That caught the queens attention, her eyes squinted, "What makes you think that?" She said it in such a blasé way, it was like she was asking about the time. She did made an effort to quiet the eagerness trying to bleed through her voice with the question... She was still pissed with him.

"Now Annie. Even if you wasnt my friend, anyone with eyes can see how that man dont play when it come to you... Now I aint seen much, but from all the whisperin' them servants do when they aint got nothin' better to do, and from what little Ive seen of that man? C'mon now."

"What you hear 'bout him from the servants? What they whisperin' about me an' him?" Annie was curious but on gaurd. Of course people talk, she didnt feel any sort of way about that, it was apart of being royalty.

"Well, when it comes to him, he's a more reserved man but he's been nothin' but kind to 'em..." she trailed off.

The queen hummed, but she could tell there was something Pearline was holding back.

"Go on" Annie prompted, "I aint gon' bite your head off or nothin', I can tell theres somethin' on the tip of your tongue you wanna spill."

"Well, I heard ol' boy came back not too long ago, Brandon. Went as soon as he came. Some said he was flyin' like a bat outta hell."

Annie tampered the smile threatening to break across her face when Pearline mentioned the speed at which Brandon got the hell on back to wherever he came from.

Pearline continued, leaning in conspiratorily, "Heard your husband had his ass cornered, bit the barrel of a gun right to his head. Scarin' the piss outta 'em. Don't help that some of the house keepers were talkin' 'bout how they could smell it off him when he left."

"Oh really?" She played, fake suprised.

"Nah, dont play me Anne. You was my friend longer than you been my queen, you been known about this."

"Yeah, I knew, he told me what he did that same night..."

"Really?"

"Yeah, Im not too suprised. He almost too upfront. Not that I mind really."

"Ah... I see." Pearline nodded in some understanding.

Annie cocked her head to the side quizzically, "I know you mentioned some of the housekeepers and servants gossipin', but Im curious... How you know them kinda details? He never mentioned usin' any kinda weapon. Though I wouldnt put it pass 'em.." Her mind floated back to the time he told her about his background as a mercenary with his twin.

Pearline sneered slightly, "Well, before that 'lil heffa decided to be all weird to me all 'cause she aint gotta leash on her twin, she told me a bit that she heard a bit from Stack, probly pillow talkin' or somethin'."

"Huh..." the queen muttered a knowing look on her face. Her mind was churning,

Smoke made no mentions of his brother bein' involved... Mary steady runnin' her mouth... Stack stirrin' things up...

She kissed her teeth, I aint got the patience for this shit...

Seeing her friend visibly getting worked up over the info she just gave her Pearline tried to soothe it over. " Im sorry, -I aint meant for this to upset you-"

Annie held a hand up to stop her mid sentence. "No Pearl... You didnt upset me, Im just thinkin', I... Thanks for lettin' me know." A smile returned to her face, honestly this little walk she's had with Pearline unfurled some of the tension she didnt realize she was carrying, her shoulders loosened slightly.

Maybe Pearline wasnt someone she had to keep at arms length... Maybe she could let her in just a little mor-

"Queen Anisa!"

Ugh

She knew that shrill voice anywhere. Pearline and Annie turned towards the direction it came from, Ruth a little deeper into the field doing the same.

Councilwoman Maevis, with her ever present scowl etched upon her face made her way to the three women, with two royal gaurds in toe.

"Looks like our little walk is comin' to an end early..." Pearline sighed.

Annie snorted, "Was only a matter of time. Things were too calm...", she turned to her friend, quiet for a moment. Hesitant in what she wanted to say to her.

"Thanks for takin' a walk with me." She let out a loose chuckle, " I didnt realize how much I needed this. How much I missed this..." Annie felt her eyes unexpectedly get heavy with emotion, a tell tale sign of her eyes feeling a bit misty, just before she steeled herself from getting too emotional.

Pearline grabbed a hold of both her hands, "Anisa... Im just happy you wanted me to come with you, I know things haven't been easy. Our friendship can't be what it used to- I mean, we aint kids anymore obviously, but..." she squeezed her hand a bit firmer, Annie felt the warmth of Pearlines hands seeping into her own, a stark contrast from the cool, crisp morning air. "Thank you."

"What you thankin' me for? I didnt do much-"

"Oh girl hush all that nonsense that's bout to leave that mouth a your's an' just listen." She said sternly. Surprisingly, Annie didnt argue, patiently waiting for what she had to say.

"I just wanted to thank you for trustin' me. For lettin' me in even for a little bit, even if its just this one time."

Annie wordlessly pulled Pearline into a long warm hug, slightly rocking eachother side to side, pouring into her what words could not suffice. "It wont be a one time thing Pearline... not if I have any say in it." She could feel her friend melt into at her words, releasing a quiet exhale like a weight was lifted off of her, the both of them really.

Looks like she needs this just as much as I did...

She could tell how sad it made Pearline to see Anisa pull away as she took on her duties over the years. At the time Annie thought it was the right thing to do. The paranoia was just too high to go from having a family one moment to both taken away from her for reasons that remained unknown to having the highest seat in the kingdom. To dealing with men and women alike always looking for an angle...

But maybe... just maybe she could let people get close again...

"Your highness!" The voice got closer.

"Alright", Annie started to pull away, not before rubbing her friends forearms soothingly before she let go of her. " Time to find out what this woman wants." She turned towards the field, seeing Ruth inspecting a black fuzzy caterpillar inching away along a blade a grass. "C'mon Ruth we headin' back now!", waving her over.

Maevis finally reached the pair at the same time Ruth scrambled her way to them aswell. The older woman face forever in that permanent scowl she carries, spoke, her voice slightly out of breath "Did you not here me calling for you?"

"Mhm" Anisa hummed noncommittedly as she began to make her trek back to the estate, her long gait caused the shorter woman to pick up the pace to remain next to her. "And you're all the way out here with no security. Why didnt you respond bac-"

"-Cause last time I checked you weren't in my schedule for today." She cut in sternly, making sure that Maevis could hear that she was not in the mood for any of her nonsense today. "So now Im here wondering what has you walkin' all this way to come and bother me while Im out here enjoying nature with my ladies?"

Maevis was quiet for a moment, taken aback by how biting the Queen was being this early in the day. Today was a day for her to tread lightly, as it seemed that Anisa's fuse was shorter than it normally was.

"I- uhm, well." Maevis cleared her throat, she felt her face warm with embarrassment from her sputtering, "Councilman Cyrus called for another meeting."

"What for?"

"He wanted to check the temperature on the king, see how he's doing with the blueprints for that Youth Center."

"Didnt we just give him those yesterday? How has there been enough time to check for his progression?" A frown already taking over Annie's lips.

"Its not a check for progression, he just wants to know where the king is at with it."

Like that aint vague as hell, Annie quipped in her mind, she already knew it was some bullshit from the get go. It didnt help that she didnt want to see Smoke's ass either.

"So what do I have to do with this? Why not just meet with him yourself?"

"We figured it would be good for you to just have an ear in it, just so your up to date."

Annie sighed, If yall were competent and did good on what you said, you wouldnt need me to be around all the damn time to listen to every little ass detail.

"Alright."

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Annie stiffly took her seat next to Smoke, agitation radiating off her in waves. He already looked heavily uninterested in this last minute meeting that he most likely thought was bullshit too.

The only good thing to thos was the fact that Maevis and Obidiah were more subdued in their demeanor this go 'round. No doubt they could feel that she was not in a very patient mood today like she normally was.

All that ire she was carrying in her chest; Mary, Stack, the Council, the whispers, Elijah without allowing much to spillover thanks to that much needed outting with Pearline was beginning to ramp back up. Especially now that she was right between two of the culprits that were part of the reason.

She spared no greeting, no aknowlgment whatsoever of her husband. He had the nerve to look put off by her restricted demeanor.

He needa fix his damn face, lookin' at me like I done him wrong or somethin'

Luckily her thoughts didnt show up on her face which remained neutral and stoic.

No one spoke, they all were looking to her to say something to get the ball rolling.

Already on a short fuse, Anisa broke the silence, voice low and clipped, "Well Im hear now. You dont need to wait on me to start."

All but Smoke fidgetted uncomfortably in their seats, the jingle of jewelry chiming together with each stilted movement with some quiet grumbling from the council.

It was a very clear sign to the elders that she was not having it with them today. Hell, she'd probly fire them on the spot if they said one wrong thing trying to push their luck like they would any other day.

Cyrus, sensing some of the mounting tension lightly coughed in his hand to add a break into an ever mounting tension. "Ehm- first I want to say thank you your majesty's for coming to this meeting on such a short notice... It is greatly appreciated. I assume Maevis explained the nature of this meeting my queen?"

She hummed in agreeance. It was the most aknowlegment he was going to get out of her today, so he went straight into the order of business.

"So... My King, how are you finding the planning for that youth center? I take it you been hard at work?"

Smoke gave a distracted hum, he had not taken his eyes off the Anisa from the moment she entered the councul meeting room all while she was pointedly not meeting his eyes. "Seein' as I only got the blueprints yesterday there aint much to report on, but its been goin', kinda wanted to rework the orginal build so Its been keepin' me busy."

"I bet it has" Anisa muttered under her breath. Smoke no doubt could detect the sarcastic haughtiness in her tone.

"Yeah. The library damn near became my second room right behind my bedroom." He grunted.

She stiffened a bit at the mention of the library, but her face gave nothing away. She hummed, choosing to ignore his goading, "Is that enough of an update for you? Councilman Cyrus?".

The older man seemed caught up in trying to piece together what was being said between the royal spouses and what wasnt said at the same time. "Cyrus-" Her stern voice cut through his wondering.

"Oh- uhm, yes my queen?" He sputtered, unsure and a little embarrassed to be caught not paying attention while simultaneously being the one to call this impromptu meeting in the first place.

"I believe, as you can see Cyrus, the king has everything under control, Im sure he'll ask for your aid should he he need it immediately." And with that, as far as Annie was concerned her part of the meeting was over, she shifted in her seat, ready to make her exit as soon as possible.

Luckily, for once in their old incompetent lives the elders got the hint and swiftly and quietly exited the room.

'Cause what she was not gonna do is play along with what Smoke was trying to get at. Tryna be lowkey slick mentionin that damn library. Let alone at a council meeting infront of company. Granted it was such a subtle comment, given the nature of the discussion, that no one would piece together an idea of what he was implying underneath, but still. It was already taking all of her patience to hang onto (barely) some form of politeness with everyone. That was not reserved for the man that was the aided in her being this prickly in the first place.

Once everyone left, Anisa fixed her skirts before getting up. As she did Elijah wrapped his strong fingers around her wrist, her bangles jingling at the motion. "You aint gotta be all snippy with me, the day just started and it look like you startin'."

This man-

She roughly wrenching her hand out of his firm hold. "Dont go on touchin' on me. I told you before already, you been lost your damn mind." She was out the door before he could get another word in. The skirt of her dress fluttering about with the speed she exited the room with.

It was like being brought back to the beginning, with the queen having this seemingly magical ability to dissappear from him again.

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She didnt make an appearance at their shared balcony that evening, what had steadily become their ritual spot of quietly sitting with eachother before going to bed. Whether in shared silence or small talk.

Oh she real mad.

Elijah folded his hands behind his head staring up into the night sky. Watching the thin string of smoke from his cig curl amongst the numerous stars.

He let out a long exhale.

Maybe I pushed too much... He could feel something almost close to regret lightly hold around his chest. Not quiet a squeeze.

No... He immediately shut the thought down. With a woman like that, he'd have to draw it out of her, 'cause if he left it up to Annie, her stubborness wouldnt allow shit to happen whatsoever even if she herself wanted to. She'd just run all over him.

As fucked up as it was he couldnt find himself to fully feel bad about it. Not like she hadnt been teasing him all this time to get a reaction out of him.

And seeing how she reacted when he wrapped his arms around her... Elijah closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. That glimpse of her showing how she desired him- He shook his head, softly chuckling to himself before putting out the cigarette and heading to his bed.

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The next day didnt prove much difference.

Anisa was still holding out on him, avoiding him when she could, and when she couldnt she was being snippy with him, appearing to always have something to say whenever he spoke. She mostly did that when there weren't other people around, keeping things tense but still respectful infront of company.

It was amusing at first, but after a while Elijah was starting to get annoyed, already over the attitude that she was constantly, unrelentingly, giving him.

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He managed to catch her walking down one of the outside corridors where there was always a pleasant breeze blowing through its columns.

He walked up next to her, discreetly folding his hand in hers. She must've been deep in thought because she jumped in suprise at the unexpected touch and proximity from him.

On realizing who had a hold on her arm he saw her face makeup almost instantly, she tried to pull her hand from his, but this time he was prepared for her to do something like that. He firmed his grasp on her hanf preventing her from leaving, "What are you?-",

"Just what do you think you doin'?" He grunted, eyebrows furrowed.

"Huh? What I think Im doin'? Tryna stay the hell away from you is what. Which you like to make impossible for me the way you chasin' me around like you some unruly dog with nothin' better to do."

"You better watch yourself woman." He warned.

"Or what?" She stopped and turn towards him, pushing into his space, puffing her chest out against his. "Whatchu gon' do Smoke? Huh?... Run your mouth some more? Talk about how you mean whatchu say? Drone on 'bout how you not like them "other" men?"

"Nah, you dont get to do me like that."

"Boy if you dont leave me 'lone-"

He firmed his grip on her arm and pulled her right back to him, "Uh-uh, Now what you not gon' do is start sayin' shit that aint true. You know what kinda things Im willin' to do for you. Things Ive already done. I even left that lame ass friend of yours live instead of just killin' his ass 'cause he made you upset in your house."

She paused, he saw her eyes flutter, she faltered slightly.

"Oh so you quiet now? Seemed like you couldnt run outta shit to say to me these past days."

That quickly broke her out of her little quiet spell she just had. At first she looked angry for a split second, before it quickly dissipated, replaced by a cool expression.

She hummed thoughfully, though the silence she held was charged.

"You know... not too long before I came to get you again from that meeting. The one where Cyrus first gave you those blue prints, I talked with Mary."

"..."

"She havin' some problems with that crazy twin of yours. Think he cheatin'."

"Hm." Smoke felt himself increasingly become more apprehensive, unsure of where she was going with this.

"Mhm. Said she wanted to switch twins cause he givin' her a headache... Maybe she's right."

She felt Smoke stiffen next to her

"The fuck you mean by that." His anger flared.

"I mean exactly what I say."

He kissed his teeth, " If you were in your right mind, you wouldnt take half the words that girl says out her mouth."

"And what? Im supposed to take your word over her's?"

"If you know whats good for you"

"If I know whats good for me?" She reiterated, incredulous. "You think just 'cause you been here a lil while as King and I give you some projects means you must know everything then huh?"

"That aint what Im sayin'. You need to watch that friend of yours."

"Mary? The woman thats been one of my closest friends since I was a child?" Her eyes turned to slits. "You gettin' way too comfortable to be sayin' shit thats not your place to say."

"Not my place? Im your husband, the one you married an' said all them vows to, so- I'd say its definitely my place to say that. You need to get rid of her ass."

"Why?"

"Cause she aint no good to you."

"How?"

Elijah paused, mulling over whether he wanted to tell her about the fact that she'd nearly slept with every past suitors of hers. Shit for all he knew those could've aided in her broken betrothals.

"She been sneakin' behind your back."

"Sneakin' doin" what exactly?" She folded her arms across her chest. Still agitated, but holding enough space to hear him out.

"All them past suitors of yours? The broken betrothals? She slept with a good amount of those men behind your back."

She froze as if she was put on pause, air didnt even stir from her. She held her breath altogether at the new information, digesting the bomb he dropped on her. She was quiet for what felt like hours before she finally spoke again, her voice quivered slightly but otherwise remained even.

"How do you know this? Where'd you hear that from?"

"Stack."

Her eye twitched. "Stack." She deadpanned.

"Mhm."

"An' Im just supposed to believe that? Comin' from the twin that like to stir up trouble?"

Elijah felt a flare of defensiveness over his younger twin but he kept his voice even, "You aint gotta believe it for it to be true, you cant keep someone around that moves like that. Its bad for business."

"Just bad for business?"

"Nah, it aint just that. She a shitty friend too."

Annie stared at him blankly, face unreadable, completely shut down from him. The change took him aback, loosening his hold on her. Her anger he was used to, her passion he was used to, and in small little pockets her joy as well, but this? The complete lack of reaction took him off gaurd.

His lax hold on her gave her room to slowly turn around and leave. Leaving him alone with nothing but an empty hall way and the gentle wind brushing against his clothes, and the ever growing distant clicking of her heels against the pavement.

.

.

.

She puts him on ice for several days after that. It wasnt like the previous times when she avoided him because he got on her nerves. This was pointed, overtly so.

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________________

Smoke ventured out the estate again, but instead of his usual trek around the perimeter he took a detour. Walking through the dense, thick foliage-covered narrow path. The path he first walked through when he came here.

Damn, havent even left this place since I won that tournament...

Annie. His wife was the reason he was walking around in the middle of the forest.

He would never admit it, but her silent treatment was getting to him.

Regret that had been hiding in the shadows of his mind were trying to make itself known, and not for the first or second time either. His earlier bravado and confidence he carried was starting to flag and doubts started to seep through.

He took a deep inhale of his cig, head tilted up towards the sky, watching the dappled rays of sunlight flash through the thick canopy of trees overhead. The air here was thick and humid with the type of warmth that sits and doesnt move. He'd only been walking a few minutes and there was beads of sweat cascading down the sides of his temple.

He exhaled, watching the smoke dissipate into the air, mind in deep thought.

Maybe... I should just leave her be... Give her space...

It was obviously the best thing to do.

The sane thing to do in a situation like this...

But Smoke was anything but sane when it came to Annie. The very idea of accepting her distance made his stomach churn, as if his body rejected the very thought of doing something like that despite his wife's very obvious attempts at keeping things like that between them.

"Shit dont even sound right." He said outloud to nobody but himself.

He knew that speaking on Mary would only drive a further wedge between them but he couldnt bring himself to regret that either. She needed to be aware of some one that moved with that kind of specificity in her circles.

The way Mary moved was pointed, a pattern...

Elijahs mind started thinking of all the possible motivations for Mary doing what she did, what for?

Did she want to be Queen? Was there hidden animosity on Mary's side? Is she just plain stupid? An adrenaline junkie that gets off on the idea of doing things she wasnt supposed to be doing?

After watching how Mary moved for a while he was inclined to believe that the girl was plain stupid and just loved trouble... Maybe she did want to be queen, but as far as he knew and what Stack ran his mouth about her, he didnt pick up on her making moves that could lead to that kind of conclusion.

Didnt hear about or see Mary communicate with the councilmembers or show any initiative in taking on responsibilities, quiet the opposite actually. She seemed to like to lounge around with nothing much to do and just enjoy the lavish lifestyle of the uppercrust. Then again, maybe she wanted to be queen from the little power trips she seem to like having, as small as they seem to be.

But she made no moves to network, or make friends or acquaintances with any of the staff and servants. Not even visiting lords or ladies...

Unless she tryin' to sleep with they asses too...

She seemed to isolate herself in all aspects except between herself and the Queen, and their friend Pearline. But even that is getting shakey now, seeing how Stack's interaction with the woman pretty easily drove a wedge between the two, judging how she was huffing and puffing and ready to blow the whole damn house down, when his twin kissed her hand.

Either way it didnt matter. If it was up to him, he'd get rid of her ass in anyway he could just cause. He knew Annie would hate him for it... Probly Stack too. Lord knows what the fuck they got goin' on 'tween them two...

He had no idea what the hell was the nature of the relationship between his twin and that girl. Either way he was gonna have to have a serious talk with Stack eventually. He could sense all the moving parts leading up to something. Whether it was good or bad was anybodies guess.

Smoke hummed, "Man... you really know how to pick 'em Elias..." He said sarcastically to no one in particular, it was just him and the trees and their roots there to offer him a listening ear.

"Damn..." His cigarette was already finished. His mind must have drifted longer than he thought. He couldnt help but laugh at himself, the irony of it all. One of the first things he told Stack before going through this crazy plan of his was that he wasnt going any Politicking. And now look at him, tryning to piece something together.

He knew the reason behind this change of heart. It was that frustrating woman he couldnt get enough of, the one currently driving him insane with the way she snatched her presence away from him, and how determined she was in keeping it that way. "Tch." He crushed the butt of his cigarrette before flicking it into the brush. He turned around, heading back to the compound, whatever was happening the fuse had been lit a long time ago. It was only a matter of time before things would blow up. It was anyone's guess as to exactly what that would look like.

Soon as he reached the front gate he saw his brother waiting for him, gesturing at him with his hands animatedly. "Man what the hell? You know I been lookin' for you? Where you been?"

"Took a walk, needed to clear my mind."

"An you just left by yourself? Don't no gaurd come witchu or some shit? Whatchu need to clear your mind for?"

"They seen how I fight, I dont need no gaurdin' I tell 'em when their needed an' when their not, and in this case Im still in the front yard of the property." He grumbled impatiently, his own fuse was getting shorter each day. Not like he had a long one to begin with.

"I aint never seen you walk off that far, what had you runnin up an' down the jungle cause it was botherin' you that much?..."

Smoke didnt answer. Something Stack noticed he was starting to do more and more these days. He didnt like it. This new found distance that he was starting to feel grow between them.

Stack stopped talking for a moment. There was only one other person on earth that he knew would have Smoke moping around like this.

"Damn, you walkin' around tense as fuck. Got your shoulders damn near scrunched up to your ears and walk all stiff like you got a stick up your ass or somethin'. If you dont go an' put it on her good, all this bickerin' you two be doin' might be the end of all of us". Despite light hearted manner in which he spoke, he couldnt help the slight frustration he was starting to feel with his older brother leak through.

Smoke breeze right on past him without another word.

.

.

.

He set out looking for her.

He checked the gardens, she wasnt there.

The council room?

Not there either.

The kitchens?

Nope.

Library?

Hell no.

He chanced their shared balcony, thinking maybe she retired early in her efforts in avoiding him the whole damn time.

He was tempted to ask one of the servants on her whereabouts. Maybe Nina? Probly not, she was damn near like a daughter to Annie the way she worries about her. Maybe Damian? He was damn near becoming a mini Smoke the way the young boy would shadow him at times. It didnt help that Elijah always seem to have his favorite sweets with him whenever Damian scampered about, most likely doing what he wasnt supposed to. The boy stayed getting in trouble with the head maid.

Nah...

Not only would word of him looking for her reach Anisa before he could ever find her with the way word travels fast through the halls, (probly why shes been so good at avoiding him so far.) he didnt really want to involve anyone in their petty little spat they were having, let alone the younger ones.

Pearline and Mary were out of the question.

Smoke left the balcony, then his chambers. Once again found himself wandering the the hallways until he walked past the central courtyard again, irritated and somewhat aimless. The rush of the garden waterfalls did nothing to calm his agitated nerves.

Until he heard the sounds of footsteps approaching him from behind at an increasing pace. His body tensed immediately. The feeling of being snuck up on made his body pull tight, ready to spring into action at a moments notice, but he had to remind himself that he shares a space with multiple people, and he wasnt in the mercenary business anymore.

A feminine voice, one that most definitely was not Annie, obnoxiously cleared her throat behind him. An indication that the owner of the voice was expecting a response from him.

He turned, a scowl firmly fixed to his face, to see who it was. He was met by the pissed off form of the very last person he wanted to see right now.

Mary.

In another slim pink gown, brunette hair perfectly curled, and the incessantly tapping of her foot echoing across the expansive corridor. She was close to wearing her heel down to the sole at the rate she was going.

"Now, I don't remember exchangin' any kinda of words with you, but just who do you think your clearin' your throat at?" He rasped warningly, low and quiet

Mary looked slightly taken a back. His tone sounded different, but she quickly gathered herself, eyes narrowed. "Just who you think your talkin' to Stack? I been lookin' all over for you-"

"Who do you think your talkin to?" He cut in, "For how you stay up under his ass you should be able to tell the difference 'tween us."

"Smoke?..."

"Mary"

Her previous bravado deflated almost instantly, realising she was addressing the wrong twin. Drawing into herself, becoming almost meek.

"Well- um... have you seen 'em? Your brother I mean."

"Yeah, just passed him at the front gate." He tileted his head in its direction. "That's where you'll find 'em if he aint move from now."

"Oh- ok..."

She stayed rooted to the spot.

Smoke turned to continue his search, but he felt Mary's hand grab his wrist before he could fully walk away, "wait!-". He turned towards her, and she let go of his wrist just as quickly, as if she unkowingly put her hand on a hot stove top and burned herself.

"Whatchu want girl, I aint got all day."

"You lookin' for Annie?"

His ears perked, but he had his reservations still, especially with this woman right here... But it had been several days since he last talked or seen Annie. Still he didnt respond. Not that he needed to anyways, as Mary continued talking even though he didnt say anything back, just stared at her with the same scowl he carried everywhere with him.

"She always dissappearin' it seems..." she trailed off.

Hm...

Smoke wasnt a stupid man, running the streets as long as he and Stack have. He had an inkling of where this was going, but he needed confirmation of something. 'Cause if there was one thing Annie pointed out that he couldnt blame her for being suspicious of, is the fact that the info he got from Mary primarily came through Stack.

A man that at this very moment, the queen trusted as far as she could throw him, which wasnt much at all.

And all Smoke had besides that were assumptions and suspicions. Nothing concrete.

Shit- this was more of Stacks area of expertise, but as far as he was concerned Mary was a liability to Anisa, to his brother. And for that simple reason he wanted her ass out of here.

"Is that right?..." he didnt like the idea of having to seem intrigued by this kind of gossip, but he needed to give her rope, and if his assumptions were right, it would be just enough for her to hang herself with...

"Yeah. You aint gotta say nothin' shes my friend, known her since we was kids and could barely string words together." Mary breathed out a light chuckle, filling in the uncomfortable stretch of silence, as Smoke remained stone still. His unwavering eye contact made her feel slightly uneasy, but she pushed on. "I know she aint always the easiest woman to deal with. Seein' whats been goin' on between you two its not hard to assume that it's somethin' your already aware of."

"What makes you say that? What's a 'lil bickerin' gon' do to me? That shit dont bother me none. I like a woman with a 'lil bite." He shrugged.

"Yeah, but all the time though? I cant recall a long enough period where yall two went without there bein' an issue. You dont crave a 'lil peace?..."

Oh she bold.

"An' whatchu know 'bout peace?" He grunted, like you dont do shit but carry trouble an' cause problems. His patience for this was already ticking with each second he was spent hold up by her and hearing how Mary was speaking of Annie was not helping.

He saw a flash of movement from the corner of his eyes. His sight briefly flitted to a shadowed hallway.

"Oh I know plenty 'bout it... Know enough to see that, that aint what you gettin' from her-"

"You betta watch that loose mouth a your's, talkin' bout my wife like that." He stepped to the woman, his presence looming over her slight form. Her eyes widened for a split second, her stance faltered.

Smoke didnt let up, "Dont think I dont know whatchu tryna do. What you've done already- goin' 'round behind her back, fuckin' the scraps she wouldnt give the time of day to."

She was taken aback, her body jerked as if he'd just slapped her. Her face heated with embarrassment, a ruddy pink marring her cheeks as she began to sputter, " I- wha? Where you hear that from?!" She hissed.

Not a denial. Not a defense. An accusation that carried venom and a silent vow to poison whoever leaked such info and allowed such a thing to spread.

"Dont matter." He gruffed, his words final.

"You tell anyone this?"

He remained silent, it was the loudest silence Mary ever heard in her life, her body language screamed of agitation. The way her fingers started fidgeting. That mouth of her's that always put on gentle smile contorted into a deep sneer. Until suddenly she stopped fidgetinf, he could see in real time the gears turning in her head as she was caught red handed.

Her light unbothered tone contrasted the twisted look on her face. "I find out anyone else know about this... find out if they heard it from you? If I Annie hear about this, Imma bury you. Ruin this shit for you an' your brother quicker than you can reach the end of this damn hallway, your asses will be gone 'fore the sun even get a chance to set the same day..."

He leaned away, a cool mask of indifference took over his expression, folding his arms across his wide chest. He cocked his head to the side, looked her up and down and it wasnt in a suggestive manner. He was analyzing her, deliberating.

"Im gone' tell you somethin', an' Im only gon' say this once. You can go head an' do whatever it is you do, just know this... You out here threatin' me... Threatenin' my baby brother, sneakin' my wife. Ill make sure your ass is buried 'fore the night ends whether they send my ass away or not. Shoot, I might even put your body beneath them pretty flowers beds by the fountain or maybe Annie's 'lil herb garden. 'Least that way you'd be some use to her, returning her kindness to you by bein' fertilizer for her lemongrass or her ginger root that she put in them little healin' remedies of hers..." the casual tone of his would've fooled someone into thinking he was discussing something as inoffensive as what the time was.

He scoffed, "Only thing savin' you from me gettin' rid of your 'lil pasty ass is that Annie would hate me for it." And with that he breeze past her unfazed, his path took a detour, fillowing the hallways where he could've sworn he detected movement.

Leaving a behind a speechless Mary rooted to the spot, her heart in her throat. A part of her wanted to retaliate, call his bluff but...Something about the older twin made her stop herself. If even half of the things Stack said to her were true about what he and Smoke did to make Brandon tuck tail and scurry on outta here... Then he wasnt a man that made empty threats, he made promises.

A shiver went up her spine. The chill that came over the intimidating man when she threatened him was unlike anything she experienced.

Mary resumed walking, her movements stilted and akward, as if in a daze. Her mind was a maelstrom with this new revelation that he knew of some of her escapades with the queens ex suitors which meant there were more than a couple of people were privy to the "rumor".

She was determined to find out how he found out. She had an inkling of who it might be...

_________________

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.

.

Smoke walked towards the hallways were he swore he could sense movement. He didnt know why but something in him told him to follow. He thought he was going crazy cause there was no noise to accompany the idea that someone was there, until he reached the open mouth entrance that led into an interior of the main building. A flash of a deep Azure hemline skirt disappeared around a corner before he could fully catch whoever it was.

He followed, his feet picking up the pace to catch up to them. Clearly the person heard him trailing because he could hear the click of their footsteps quicken, aware of the fact that they were being followed.

He bent another corner, almost crashing into Nina, "-Oh! Greetings your highness is there something going on? You look to be in as much of a rush as-"

"''Scuse me, sorry Nina- cant talk right now. I'll get back witcha'." Manuervering around the young lady without a hitch, just in time enough to catch more of the skirt of a royal blue dress dissappear around the corner.

The closer he got, he could hear the soft chimes of delicate jewelry brushing against one another. There was only one person that it could be walking around with that distinct noise.

He was increasingly closing the distance following through the maze of hallways, each turn getting closer and closer. Until one final turn had him able to see her fully before she turned another corner. The swiftness in which she moved was starting to make him dizzy and the constant evasion was starting to piss him off.

"Annie"

He heard her footsteps falter at the mention of her name... Right before she picked up the pace again.

Luckily for Elijah, that slight falter she made allowed him time to close the distance she was keeping between them just a bit more. When he his the next turn he was able to fully see the back of her. Her deep blue gown fluttering just above the ground, making it look as if she was floating across the stone floors. Her smooth, deep brown skin looked radiant even in the diffused lighting of the windowless hallways of the interior. Even now the glint of her ever present golden jewelry caught in the low-light like a beacon.

He drank the image of her in, like a parched man stumbling upon an oasis after wandering the desert for many days.

"Anisa."

She ignored him.

"Annie! I know you hear me callin' you-" he grunted.

She walked up some steps, the light of the sun coming back in full force. His eyes squinting against sun light peaking through the pillars of the second floor of the estate walkways.

He knew exactly where she was headed, as it was mostly royalty and their guests were stationed on the second floor of the main compound. She was heading to her chambers. No doubt to lock him out. Literally.

Just as he passed the door to his own room, Annie had her hand firmly wrapped around the door handle to her Royal chamber ready to twist.

"-You better come an' talk to me. I know you heard all that."

She opened the door with a little more force than necessary. He expected an immediate slamming of the door in his face as she physically communicated how much she did NOT want to talk with him.

She stormed past him but unexpectedly left her door completely opened. A silent invitation, albeit a tenuous one.

He slowly walked in, realizing in all this time he never been in her room before. It felt cozy, the warm, spiced scent washed over him like a phantom's touch. Cinnamon? Her room was an array of earth tones. He could see it having a calming effect on anyone embraced by the space. But at the very moment, it felt as unwelcoming as the woman who it belonged to.

"Well?..."

A dry, humorless laugh escaped her. She shook her head, her back still facing him. "Boy you... you REALLY got alot of nerve."

"Then tell me. Tell me how I got a lot of nerve then." For as deceptively calm they both sounded, there was an ocean of unresolved tension, things left unsaid, and an undercurrent of emotions in its depths threatening to spill over, like a fractured dam whose faults only grew bigger, and deeper overtime.

Annie let out a tired, frustrated sigh. "You... you just-" she turned, facing him. Her brows furrowed, face full of displeasure, her full lips turned up in a frown. None of it took away from how beautiful she was.

"You know what? Nevermind, I dont know what I was thinkin'. Leave." She waved him off.

"No."

"What?"

"I said no. I aint leavin' this here room." He said with an edge of stubborness, promising to be just as difficult as her in this moment.

"If you dont leave I'll-"

"You'll what? You been avoidin' for almost a while week now without another word. Were going to talk."

"There aint much to talk about."

"The fuck you mean there aint much to talk about?"

"Well, there aint. You proved your point. Heard it straight from the horses mouth that my friend I've known for almost my whole life been on some back doorin' shit. You happy now?"

When He didnt respond immediately Annie continued,

"For all I know she might be part of the reason for my reputation being known as being "difficult" to be betrothed to. The reason my council came up with makin' a whole fiasco of a tournament just to get someone to marry me, like Im some unruly, desperate woman whose unfit to be a wife. Shit- they probly makin' me look like Im unfit to be a damn ruler." Her breathing became slightly elevated, she was getting worked up.

"After all the things I gone through..." she locked eyes with Smoke. "She was right along with me, seein' all the moments where I started feelin' like I was inadequate. As a woman... As a potential wife..." her voice becoming uncharacteristically small, a crack in her vulnerability.

"An here I was, isolatin' myself from her an' Pearline, thinkin' it was the right thing to do. Maybe somethin' in me felt that things were off. I was just too distracted." She brought her hands to her face, covering it as she took a deep breath.

"Now Im here feelin' like a damn fool after you told me what she was about. An' I refused to listen...Is that what you wanted huh? To prove a point?" Her temper flaring back up.

"No thats not-"

"Maybe you shouldnt have turned her down. Since she seems to know so much about bein' a mans peace, seems like its worked for her so far, I aint built for that shit."

"You aint even makin' no damn sense right now woman. How much you heard?"

"I heard enough. I aint gotta make sense to you, you stay talkin' bout how you not like them other bums I dealt with before and you know what? You right. You way worse then any man I had to deal with, you just wanna prove a point, thats all you wanna do." She hissed at him, pushing at his sturdy chest.

"Now get the fuck outta my room Smoke, I dont know what the hell you thought you was gon' accomplish followin' me all the way up here." She turned her back, pointed letting him know that the conversation was over and she would ignore him beyond this point.

Wordlessly, and not for the first time either, Elijah grabbed a hold of her arm, spinning her around to face him, his eyes so heavy on her, she swore she could feel the weight of his gaze. "How many times you gon' grab me?!-"

His voice came quiet, low and raspy, " As many times until you remember that, that aint the name you call me." He walked her backwards, firm but not forcefully, his grip loose enough that if she wanted to escape she always could.

She never did.

The back of her knees met the side of her bed and he continued to press until her back met her bed. Her soft body jostled slightly off the springy mattress.

A sharp breath escaped her, completely caught off gaurd as Elijah loomed over her, strong hands still wrapped around her wrists. Her eyebrows creased together, nose widened in anger, preparing to curse him out or slap the hell out him, maybe both. "If you dont get your sorry ass-", he grabbed her face, pulling towards him, searing her lips with an almost bruising pressure. Teeth almost clacking together in the heat of it. As if he was trying to pour out every once of anger and irritation he was building towards her in that one kiss.

Disappointingly she feels her own body yield slightly. Feeling her shift in demeanor, he softened, with her now able to feel the plushness of his own lips fully as he switched to lightly nipping her own, before he pulled his face away from hers. His breath newly labored from him kissing her, his face showing only mild irritation. "You dont know what you do to me? You piss me off like nobody else." He moved his face to the side of her neck, she could feel the vibration of his voice rumble against her own chest. The warmth of his breath ghosted across the nape of her neck, " An' nobody put a fire in me like you do." He lightly kissed her neck. She instinctively moved her head to the side to give him more access letting out a soft sigh, before he started to travel a little lower. "If you aint have a heart for her ass, I woulda done her the same way I did your other "childhood friend, 'cept I would've finished the job" His voice rough and gravely, juxtaposed to how he softly nipped at her collar bone.

"Dont say them kinda things. You dont mean that 'Lijah", she groaned. Her jewelry chimed with every slight squirm she made.

There it was, the way her rich soft tone wrapped around her little nickname for him. He pulled back, "when you gon' learn woman? How many times imma have to tell you I say what I mean..."

His hands that rested at her wrists started to move. Gently grazing across her smooth skin with the delicate lightness of a feather, a sharp contrast to his earlier handling of her. Wherever he touched he left a trail of heat and goosebumps in its wake. Distractingly making her hyper aware of the position they were in now. That intensity in his eyes never changed, as his hand settled on her waist briefly.

"I know what gotchu more upset, you bein' more vicious than usual... Its my fault aint it?" He cooed softly.

His warm callous fingers lightly fanned across her body. His hands traveled up, brushing over her sides, chest, barely grazing her peaked nipples as he brought both hands to either side of her neck. Leaving a trail of heat in their wake wherever he touched, before he seared his lips across her own once more, this time much more gentler than before. Her breathing deepened and her body became restless.

He didnt linger too long, she felt his warm hands start to travel lower and could feel her body start to heat up in anticipation, her body kept the score from when he last touched her. When he set a fire in her so deep it refused to cool down since. Distance just made the ache worse.

She was so keenly aware of his touch as one of his hands traveled lower, brushing past her hips, Annie could've sworn she could feel every ridge of his fingertips prints through her dress.

She held her breath, body taut, wordlessly shifting her legs, slightly parting them. A silent invitation. One he took graciously.

His hand traveled up one of her plush thighs, before reaching its destination at its apex. He cupped her, resting his hand against her panties. Feeling of soft, warm, and undeniably wet she was, if the dampness he could feel there was any indication, before shifting it to the side, feeling the heat of her flesh underneath. Only a slight hitch of her breath was the only sound she made giving away how much his touch was affecting her.

"Looks like 'lil miss down her got more sense than you" he murmured. He held his hand still, barely applying any of the pressure Annie really needed as she'd been incessantly aching.

She shifts her hips, attempting to push herself onto his hand, but feels him pull back again. She let's out a sound of pure frustration mixed in with desperation, she was starting to ache just shy of being uncomfortable.

Elijah's voice roughly cut through, "I already told you what I wanted to hear from you Annie. I need to hear it straight from your lips-" she lifts herself up from her lying position, her elbows digging into the mattress. She was already at her wits end with want, and he just set her off with his demands of her.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Your dick dont work or somethin?" She hissed.

"Whatchu just say?"

"You heard me." She responded, defiant.

As defiantly as one could look with his hand beneath her skirt. He froze, his face blank aside from his blown out pupils, eyes almost black against the diffused sunlight that flitered through the sheer curtains against the windows of her room.

She almost regretted what she said until he felt his hand move, applying morr pressure to where she was silently begging the most. She lets out a light puff of breath at the change, becoming very still as she leaned back down.

"You angry with me baby?..." His hands start to gently caress her folds, fingers grazing her clit with lightness of a feather, more pressure than he applied before, but not nearly enough as she needed.

"Smoke-" she gritted her teeth, the feeling of desperation was slowly starting to rear its ugly head.

"That aint my name- and I asked you a question." He berated roughly.

"Yes! Im angry with you" She hissed, but there was an unmistakable whine saturated along the edges of her tone. She turned her head to the side, as if she wanted to bury herself away somewhere. The admittance making her oddly feel vulnerable. A small part of her wanting to escape the unwavering focus of Elijah's dark eyes. Until she faced him again, her doe eyes boring into his before allowing herself to release her unfiltered frustrations.

"You comin' and tellin' me that my friend that I've known for almost all my life, been sneakin' behind my back with men that were courtin' me, just for me to come and see her try that with you- and then you-." She stops herself mid rant, letting out a harsh exhale as Elijah started to add more pressure, circling her clit gently before sliding his hand further down to where her she was yearning for the most. He slightly pushed one of his fingers into her wet opening, not enough to penetrate, but enough to feel its promise.

"Elijah..." she quietly groaned, it wasnt enough.

"I dont give a shit 'bout that lil heffa you call friend, an' whatever the fuck she up to. Im talkin' to you, about you." He grunted, "Its a part. But that aint all why you angry with me." He rasped, he grabbed one of her legs, lifting it slightly and pulling it to the side, spreading her open a bit wider to give him some more room for his fingers to work, one of them inserting itself deeper into her

"Ah- I-", Annie turned her head to the side, eyebrows scrunched together, eyes screwed shut. She felt more wetness pool out from her, her kneejerk instinct to close her legs were blocked by his body being in the way, leaving her open at his mercy.

"That dont sound like nothing to me, use your words woman. You aint have no problems usin' em' when you was lashin' out on me. Like Im some aint shit bum on the street that you can talk any which way to, like I aint your husband. What else are you angry with me about?" He pushed, his smokey voice wrapped around her like his namesake.

She was soaking so much so from all the pent up sexual frustration she was feeling that she could hear how much noise her pussy was making. Even the intrusion from his finger had her walls fluttering, desperate to pull him in further, hungry for more

"Im mad at how... how you left me." She rasped. Anticipation was starting to kill her.

"How I leave you?"

"You already know how you left me-"

"Nah Annie, I already told you. You better start usin' them words or I swear 'fore God Imma stop right now."

Annie felt her temper flare "how 'bout you leave me the fuck alone then If you aint gon' do shit"

He pulled away taking her undergarment with him, the heat of his hand leaving her where she craved most had her ready to properly cuss him out.

"You-"

"Hush up all that damn noise" He barked, "You sittin' here yellin' at me, talkin' to me any sorta way- all while you leakin' like a faucet up under me, messin' up these nice 'lil expensive sheets of yours an' I barely even touched you yet."

He roughly grabbed her hips pulled her towards his. Resting her now bare pussy onto his clothed manhood. She unashamedly tried to grind herself onto him, just to seek some kind of release, any. But the infernal man firmed his strong grip on her hips, restricting her movement. She almost let out a sob, biting her lip to prevent such a pathetic sound from escaping.

At this point she didnt even understand her stubborness, her refusal to give him what he wanted, but he was really starting to wear her down. Little cracks were beginning to form in her previously iron clad resolve. She wanted him. Bad.

As bad as he wanted her.

Just as she was about to throw caution into the wind and take pleasure for herself she felt him starting pull back slightly again, to deny her again. Her thick thighs that were previously laid out to either side wrapped around him, preventing him from fully leaving.

"You talkin' 'bout how Im crazy an' you over here makin' no kind of sense. You tell me to leave you alone and then you got your legs wrapped round me like you aint ever want me to leave. Which is it huh? You want me gone, or you want me to stay? I already told you what I want from you."

"..."

"You better say somethin' Anisa or I'll leave you as is." He warned.

"I-...", She fell silent giving no answer.

Smokes patience was wearing thin, unexpectedly he grabbed Annies hips, tilting her pelvis slightly upward with her legs spread. She let out a startled grunt. He grabbed one of the pillows that was strewn about the bed in all the rustling they were doing and placed it under her hips. He leaned back slightly drinking her in, eyes half-lidded.

The skirt of her dress had ridden up past her hips, fully exposing her lower half. Her upper half was askewed, no thanks to his earlier ministrations. One of the sleeves of her dress hung off the sides of her shoulder, her generous chest threatened to spill out of her top, her body completely lax, her hands splayed to her sides. Her beautiful piercing eyes almost arrested him on the spot,

Fuck. There aint no one on Gods green earth that deserves to see such a sight. Hell, he didnt even know what good he did in his fucked up life to deserve to see such a thing...

He quickly regrouped himself, focusing on the task at hand. He hadnt said a word.

Eventhough just moments ago Annie wrapped her legs around him to keep him here this new position felt deeply vulnerable and exposing as from where he situated her, he was looking directly at her fluttering pussy.

Oddly enough, the need to cover herself never came, the new position allowed her to melt into the soft mattress, even with the intense scrutiny Elijahs hooded eyes were giving her. A quiet, maybe equally insane part of her loved when all of his focus was directed towards her. However intense it was, she consumed it all like an addiction.

His raspy graveled tone cut through the breathing silence between them,"You dont wanna tell me? Fine... but you better show me."

"Show you?" Her voice breathless.

"Mhm..." His voice low, eyes lowered.

She didnt know what possessed her, but she reached down between her spread legs, parting her lower lips and started touching herself.

Circling her stiff nub, before flicking it side to side, she needed more. She released a sharp exhale, not realizing how long she was holding her breath.

Elijah locked in on her hand, watching as it gradually became more and more covered in her own arousal, the glide of her fingers becoming smoother as she continued to play with herself.

"When's..." he trailed off at a loss of words. He was in a trance. "When's the last time you touched yourself?" The words came out uncharacteristically strained.

"I- It's been a while... I almost did..."

"When"

He watched her hand intensely as she moved it lower, cirling her entrance but never penetrating, not only could he see how wet she was getting, he heard it. Everytime she brushed her opening it was as if he could hear her pussy trying to suck her own fingers in.

He was impossibly hard, he was almost suprise his dick didnt just burst open through his trousers.

"T-that night after the library... When I left you." Her breath hitched, she fucking herself with her fingers slowly.

"Why didnt you?"

"I- ah, I didnt think you deserved it." She whined.

"Didnt deserve what? Your pleasure? Your pussy? You?" He asked, stern, but an edge of desperation. His control was wearing thin, fraying at the edges.

He grabbed one of her legs in an almost vice-like grip, lifting it up resting it against his shoulder, parting them wider, just shy of uncomfortable.

"Ahn-" The unexpected shift made her fingers plunge deeper than she anticipated.

"Im waitin' Annie."

"Yesss..."

He hummed.

"You didnt..." she paused, "you aint made no good on your promises. You left me..."

"How I leave you?" He mummured softly against the skin of her ankle, restrained but anxious to hear what truth would leave her trembling lips.

"You left me aching... I-" she sped up her pace, fingers working furiously, her thumb brushing back up against her clit as she fucked herself with her fingers. Her head tipped back, exposing the line of her neck, necklaces sliding against each other at the action, no longer nestled between her breasts as they pooled against her neck and collar bone. "Ugh..." she groaned, low in her throat.

Elijah felt the muscles in her legs tense up, her hips twitched, simultaneously lifting and pulling away, as if they were unsure whether they wanted to move away or towards the release she was chasing.

Elijah quietly watched her, watched as her fingers moved in and out of her pussy, the closer she got to her peaked the wetter she got. The wet, squelching noises emanating from between her legs were down right filthy. It was music to his ears.

Her whines reached a fever pitch. He watched as her walls clenched around her digits then released. Then clench again, then release. She was close, her face twisted in a grimace, biting the bottom of her full lips. Breathing heavily, concentrated on reaching her peak.

Just as she felt her release coming, Elijah grabbed her wrist, stilling her movements.

A sob escaped her lips, "Lijah please-!" She almost thrashed herself around the bed. He lowered himself, pressing chest to chest watching as she squirmed. Her eyes were wet with desperation, she looked close to crying.

"Annie... look at me." he cooed quietly, calm in a way that commanded her attention. "You let me take care of you. Ya' hear me?"

She nodded her head so slightly, he wouldve almost not registered it. "Elijah please... I want more... I want you, please... take care of me. 'Lijah." She begged quietly, she couldnt take anymore, she felt like she was about to explode.

He kissed her softly, before pulling back "Thank you mama. Thats my good girl..." he spoke softly against her lips.

He knew how much weight those words carried for her. It was more than just to satisfy her, he wanted her to let him take care of her in anyway he could. If she allowed.

He gently pulled her hand from between her legs, making her whine softly at the loss. "Shh... Dont worry, Imma make it all better. I know you achin' baby. I know its my fault." He brought her hand towards his face, her fingers coated in her essence, before he brought them to his lips, getting a taste of her on his tongue. He stiffled a moan that threatened to to make itself known. He needed to taste her, needed it more than anything right now.

He replaced her hand back with his own, she was soaking. It made it easy for him to glide his fingers through her lips before inserting his fingers into her heat, all the way down to the knuckle with almost no resistance. She clenched around him in a vice grip. He couldnt help the groan that escaped his mouth. Her pussy held on to him like she never wanted him to leave her.

The noises coming out of Annie grew in volume, stiffled moans and choked off whines were the only things she was could manage. Her body was vibrating.

He slid against her body, removing his hand while he was lowering himself until she could feel his cool breath ghosted across her heated center. It made her shiver in anticipation, her already elevated heart rate sped up just a bit more. She lifted her legs, wrapping them around his shoulders. In turn he wrapped his strong arms around her thighs, anchoring him to her, leaving no space for her to run if she wanted to.

He didnt let her wait before he went straight to it. Dragging his tongue across her slit, before thrusting it into her opening, licking on her like he was trying to swallow her whole. The sensation coupled with his nose bumping across her clit in tandem had her groaning, long and low.

He felt her fingers card through his curls, her nails scraping across his scalp, just shy of pain. It sent a shiver down his spine. He traveled up, focusing his attention directly on her nub, flicking it side to side. He moved his hands, one thumb sliding across her slit before it crooked, pushing one of her pussy lips to the side, exposing her innerlips to the cool air of the room before he shifted his hands once more putting his fingers back where she needed it most, steadily thrusting in and out in a come hither motion.

He didnt stop his onslaught of him tonguing her down, like he was making love to her pussy. "Ugh... shit, Smoke- 'Lijah, fuck. Dont stop. Please ah-!"

He could her walls rhythmically spasming, she was getting close again. He sped up his efforts. The grip she had on his gair tightened, every part of her body pulled taught like a drawn bowstring ready to snap. Annie' legs started to quiver, until they tightened around his ears, her hips working in tandem with him, grinding back and forth. She was damn near impaling herself on his hand like it was his own dick in her chase for her release that had been denied from her so many times

She let out a low, desperate keen before her body locked up, keeping Smoke in place as he felt her inner walls spasming and tighten, and she damn near drenched his hand with a new wave of wetness as her orgasm finally hit her in waves.

He never stopped stroking and licking her through, riding each wave until she tugged on his hair. Silently letting him know it was almost too much, she was starting to get overstimulated.

He finally eased off, his fingers pulled out of her with a wet pop. Her legs went limp at his sides as she was still catching her breath.

Annie watched him with blown pupils, her mouth slightly agape. Elijah couldnt recall a time she was ever as subdued as she was being now. She moved placing her hands on both sides of his face, one of her thumbs caressed his lips, her eyes half-lidded, looking at them intently before she moved it to his cheek, gently moving her thumb back and forth. She had a look on her face he'd never seen before.

Open... The quietness she carried wasnt one thick with tension, but one that carried a delicate vulnerability she rarely showed. She almost looked like she didnt know what to do with herself in the aftermath of something like this. In the quiet.

Any previous fire from before was snuffed out. He shifted, laying his body next to her on the bed looking at eachother. Elijah's chest felt weird with the way she was looking at him. Warm from the inside out.

He didnt realize that the thought to get himself off didnt cross his mind. Just her pleasure. He wanted her to feel good, in the moment, it was all that mattered.

He saw her eyes droop slightly she was tired. It was more than just the fact that he wrung the pleasure out of her, but relaxed sleepiness that came with a release, sexually, emotionally.

He knew everything was laid out in the open, it was still an unfinished conversation. But looking at her heavy eyes, they could get to that later.

"C'mere go head an' rest some." He pulled her to his warm chest.

"I cant it's only the middle of the day, I got things I have to do..." she trailed off, her voice getting heavy with sleep.

"The kingdom wont fall if you take an afternoon Anne'" he mummured quietly. He felt her body melt into his, her breathing deepened, tickling the skin of his neck

She was already gone.

He tightened his hold on her before settling, her drowsiness contagious and the warmth of her being in his arms was all he needed to follow her. Closing his eyes, the afternoon breeze caressing the room, calming the heat that was once there.

Elijah couldnt recall a moment in his life where he felt this content in someone's presence.

But she wasnt just anyone, she was Annie.

His Annie...

_____________

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.

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A/n: I dont even know... Just a whole lot going on, sorry for the wait🥴

Fuck- I hate being shy, lowkey wanted to blow up writing this and not even post anything.😭

Just fade into obscurity, all dramatic an' shit.

*Im so sorry Annie, I dont know why I had that man torture you like that😭*

Theres still alot of things left unsaid, conversations that need to be had so... Its only gonna get more convoluted from here, just lemme cook, I know where Im tryna land this plane🙃😤✈️

*thats all im gonna say about that

† The Priestess

A Slow-Burn, Smoke & Annie Backstory

Annie, an 18-year-old from New Orleans, moves to Clarksdale with dreams of building a life all her own. There she meets Smoke, a 21-year-old war veteran with a dangerous reputation. What grows between them is sweet, sticky, and Southern— a smoldering love set against a world of bootlegging, Hoodoo, and blues.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9 - Coming Soon

The Mile High Club

A Modern, Alternate-Universe, Sinners Story

A unique opportunity pulls Athénaïs "Annie" Alexander, a seasoned flight attendant with a harrowing past, out of her comfort zone, and into a world of danger, intrigue, and the orbit of some notorious twins.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Netflix & Chill

Modern Smoke & Annie Smut

Smoke and Annie have been seeing each other for a few months now. They’ve kissed, even done some heavy petting. Lately they’ve been spending more time together alone, each time getting hotter and heavier. But tonight? The side effects of a little weed and liquor turn their Netflix & Chill date into something freaky.

Read Here

She Was Mine, First.

Modern Smoke & Annie Moore + Family One-Shot

Elijah “Smoke” Moore is tired of sharing his wife Annie with their kids, especially his greedy ass, 9-month-old son.

A grounding aroma of simmering okra, garlic, and the earthy sweetness of turnip greens filled the atmosphere of the Moore household. Annie moved through the kitchen with grace, her plush figure draped in a soft, cream-colored robe that clung to the generous curves of her hips and the heavy swell of her breasts. She was preparing for her evening bath, her mind drifting toward the quietude of the water. 

That’s when she heard the heavy thud of the front door echoing through the house. 

She didn’t need to look at the clock to know it was Smoke. She could feel him, the way the energy in the room transitioned, a wave of cold, hard steel crashing against the warmth of her sanctuary. 

When he stepped into the kitchen, he looked like a man who had walked through hell and brought some of the soot back with him. His Gatsby cap was pulled low, shadowing eyes that were vacant and haunted, his jaw set in a line of rigid tension. He didn’t speak; Smoke rarely did when the weight of his work was pressing down on his shoulders. He simply stopped in front of her, his presence towering and oppressive, yet desperate.

Annie didn’t ask about his day. She didn’t ask who he had broken or what he had seen. She simply opened her arms, Smoke collapsing into her, his large frame sinking into the softness of her body. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling the scent of magnolia and vanilla that radiated from her dark skin. His arms wrapped around her waist, his large hands squeezing the lush meat of her hip, anchoring himself to the only thing in the world that felt real. Annie let out a soft, humming sound, her arms winding around his broad shoulders, her fingers digging into the tension of his upper back. 

“You home,” she whispered, her voice a velvet balm. 

He groaned low in his throat, a sound of pure exhaustion, and pulled back just enough to capture her lips in a kiss. It wasn’t a gentle kiss; it was hungry and possessives. A silent demand for grounding. He tasted of stale tobacco and something metallic, but Annie met his intensity with a patient, nurturing heat, her full lips molding against his. 

Slowly, she began to peel the world away from him. Her soft hands reached up to take the cap from his head, setting it aside. His slicked hair came into view, neatly parted and still in place despite the way he was feeling. She slid the heavy wool suit jacket off his shoulder, gunpowder residue clinging tenaciously to the fabric. Then, her fingers moved to the buttons of his dress shirt. One by one, she popped them open, revealing the stark white tank top stretched tight across his massive chest and the hard ridges of his abdomen.

“Sit,” Annie commanded gently, guiding him to the heavy oak kitchen table. 

Smoke obeyed without question, his movements sluggish. He sat, his large hands resting flat on the table, gaze fixed on her with an intensity that bordered on worship. 

Annie ladled a steaming bowl of gumbo, thick with okra and seafood, and placed a generous slab of golden cornbread and a heap of turnip greens beside it. She didn’t leave him to eat; she stayed. As Smoke began to eat, the warmth of the food slowly thawing the ice in his veins, Annie stepped behind him. She placed her palms on his shoulders, her fingers finding the knots of tension that lived permanently in his trapezius muscles. She leaned in, the weight of her breasts pressing against his back, her warmth seeping through the thin cotton of his tank top. 

She began to massage him, her thumbs digging deep into the muscles, kneading away the violence of the day. Smoke let out a long, shuddering breath, his head dropping forward as he focused on the taste of her cooking and the feeling of her hands. A dangerous man being brought back to life by the woman who owned his soul. 

Annie leaned down, her lips brushing the shell of his ear. She spoke in a low, melodic whisper, the ancient tones of Yoruba flowing from her, the words a secret language of devotion and healing that only the two of them shared in the sanctity of their home. She pressed a lingering warm kiss to the side of his neck, her lips molding to his skin, leaving a mark of ownership and peace. 

Annie moved around the table, sliding into the chair beside him. With practiced, nimble fingers, she reached for his tobacco and rolling papers. Smoke watched her in a heavy glazed silence, his gaze tracing the way her breasts swayed beneath her cream-colored robe as she worked. She rolled the cigarettes with precision that was almost meditative, her movements fluid. When she finished, she set the hand-rolled cigarettes on the table and stood, gathering his empty plate. 

As she moved to the sink to clean the remains of gumbo, Smoke reached for one of the cigarettes, the familiar ritual grounding him. He stood and walked out to the back porch, the screen door clicking shut behind him. The night air was thick and smelling of rich, black earth baked by sun. River water from bayous, creeks, and drainage ditches. Corn, sorghum, and vegetable gardens. Cypress and oak after rain. Mule sweat. And humidity itself. 

Smoke leaned against the railing, the orange-cherry of his cigarette glowing in the dark. He inhaled deeply, the nicotine mixing with the lingering scent of Annie’s vanilla and magnolia that clung to his skin. He stared out into the blackness of trees, letting the silence of the Delta swallow the noise of the violence he had dealt with earlier. He stayed there until the cigarette was a mere stub, then crushed it out with a slow motion of his thumb. 

When he stepped back inside, he washed his hands in the basin, grabbed some water from the icebox to wash down his food properly, and headed to their bedroom. Past their bed with an iron frame that produced loud squeaks whenever Smoke pounded into his wife. He removed his shoes, the wooden floorboards creaking beneath his feet. 

Annie was there, waiting. She had already begun to prepare for her bath, the room warm and humid. She didn’t say a word. She could feel the residue of his burdens, the tight coil of stress that still lived in the base of his spine and the hardness in his eyes. She knew the hunger that came with his exhaustion—a need not just for sex, but for the raw, scant-driven surrender that only she could provide.

Her gaze locked onto his, dark and knowing. Slowly, Annie reached beneath the hem of her robe. Her fingers hooked onto the waistband of her cotton bloomers, and with a slow, teasing slide, she stepped out of them. 

The fabric was damp, clinging to the lush, heavy curves of her thighs and saturated with the concentrated essence of her womanhood—the musk of her heat, the sweetness of her skin, and the deep, earthy scent of her arousal. 

Annie stepped closer to him, her eyes never leaving his, and dropped the warm, scented fabric directly into his large, calloused hand. The bloomers felt heavy and humid against his palm. 

Annie gave him one last, lingering look, then she turned and walked away, leaving him alone. 

Smoke stood frozen, his chest heaving slowly, his large hand tighter around the fabric. For Smoke, this wasn’t just a fetish; it was a grounding ritual. A way to purge the metallic tang of blood and the acrid smell of gunpowder that seemed to permanently stain his soul. 

Slowly, he brought the fabric to his face, closing his eyes as he inhaled the intoxicating, pungent cocktail of her natural musk, the sweetness of her fragrance and the salty, primal scent of her arousal, the only thing capable of truly silencing the noise on his head. He didn’t just sniff them; he pressed the fabric deep into his nostrils, molding the cotton against the bridge of his nose and cheeks, sealing himself off from the rest of the world. 

Smoke took a deep, shuddering breath, inhaling the scent with a violent intensity. The smell hit him like a physical blow. It was the scent of home, of safety, and of an overwhelming, earthy femininity. It was the smell of Annie’s plush, heavy thighs and the deep hidden folds of her pussy. The aroma was rich and fermented, a heady mix of vanilla, magnolia, and the raw musk-heavy scent of a woman in her prime. 

As the scent filled his lungs, Smoke’s eyes drifted shut, his heavy lids fluttering. A low, guttural groan vibrated in his throat, a sound of pure, unadulterated surrender. The tension that had been coiled in his shoulders since dawn finally snapped. The ghosts of the men he’d killed, the screams, the suffocation of the Delta night—all of it was drowned out by the intoxicating potency of his wife. 

His body reacted instantly. Beneath his dark slacks, his thick, heavy dick surged to life, straining against the fabric. It throbbed with a demanding pulse, the head of his dick curving to the right, pressing hard against his thigh. He could feel the pre-cum leaking, wetting his underwear as his mind conjured the image of Annie’s full-bodied plushness, the way her heavy breasts would sway and how her wide, lush lips would feel beneath his palms. 

Smoke repositioned his grip, rubbing the fabric of the bloomers against his lips, tasting the faint, salty residue of her sweat and heat. He inhaled again, deeper this time, pulling the scent into the very depths of his chest until he felt lightheaded. The musk acted like a drug, stripping away his discipline, leaving only the raw, possessive hunger of a man who belonged entirely to the woman who wore these clothes. 

Smoke pressed the cotton harder against his face, breathing becoming ragged and shallow. He imagined he could feel her presence in the fabric—the warmth of her skin, the softness of her curves. He was anchored now, pulled back from the edge of the darkness by the scent of her womanhood. 

Smoke stood there lost in the sensory overload. His large frame trembled slightly. He was a deadly man, a killer feared by many, but in the solitude of this room, clutching a piece of damp cotton, he was nothing more than a devotee at an altar, completely consumed by the scent of the woman who had held his heart and his sanity in her hands. 

Annie stood by the edge of the clawfoot tub, the steam beginning to curl around her ankles, leaving her completely exposed in the dim lighting of the bathroom. She was a masterpiece of abundance, a landscape of deep, ebony skin that flowed with a soft, natural luster. Her breasts we’re heavy and lush, hanging with a natural, weighted grace, the dark wide areolas peaking through the mist. Her waist dipped inward, creating a dramatic curve that led to the magnificent expanse of her hips—wide, fertile, and sweeping. Her belly was soft, a gentle rounded swell that spoke of warmth and nourishment, leading down to a thick, neatly groomed mound of curls that guarded her honeyed heat. Her thighs were pillars of plushness, rubbing together with every slight movement of weight, and her rear was a heavy, rounded bounty that seemed to defy gravity, shaking slightly with the motion of her hips.

Just as she prepared to step into the water, the door creaked open. Smoke stood there, his silhouette filling the frame, his presence instantly sucking the air out of the room. His eyes—dark and predatory—swept over her nakedness with a hunger that was almost violent. His gaze locked onto hers, his face a mask of hard, disciplined desire. 

“Don’t wash yet.” He commanded.

His voice wasn’t a request; it was a low, guttural vibration that seemed to echo in the very marrow of her bones. It was primal, stripped of all civility, carrying the weight of a man who spent the day dealing in death and now craved the only thing that could bring him back to life. The sheer dominance in his tone sent a jolt of electricity straight to Annie’s core, making her clit twitch and jump against her thighs, a sudden, wet pulse of arousal that left her breathless. 

“Get back in this room.” Smoke commanded 

“Why?” Annie questioned, although she knew why. Like she didn’t just hand over her draws soaked in her pussy. 

“Cause I said so.” Smoke replied with finality. 

Without a word, Annie obeyed. The submission was instinctive, a response to the raw power radiating off him. She turned and walked back into the bedroom, her heavy hips swaying, her plush thighs brushing together with a soft shuck-shuck sound. When she reached the vanity, she gripped the polished wood and leaned forward, bending deep at the waist. She poked her ass out, offering herself to him, her massive, rounded cheeks framing the hidden entrance to her heat. 

Smoke approached her slowly, his feet silent on the floorboards. He didn’t touch her at first, he simply stood behind her, his predatory gaze devouring the sight of her bent-over posture. He could see the way her skin stretched over the fullness of her rear, the deep dimples at the base of her spine. 

He reached out, his hands spanning the width of her cheeks. He began to stroke her, his palms sliding over the velvet softness of their skin, kneading the heavy flesh of her ass with a possessive grip. Then, with a sudden, firm movement, he hooked his fingers into the crease of her thighs and pulled her cheeks apart. 

The sound was visceral—a wet, tacky schlick as the suction of her plush cheeks broke, the skin peeling away from itself with a moist sliding noise. 

As Smoke pulled her open, the view was breathtaking. The stark contrast of his rough fingers against her glowing skin highlighted the vulnerability and the invitation. Her pussy was revealed in all its glory. A plump, swollen slot of deep pink and mauve, glistening with a thick layer of translucent arousal. The outer lips were heavy and lush, pushed aside to reveal the tight, pulsing opening of her canal and the hooded, engorged pearl of her clit, which was weeping with desire. 

Smoke sank to his knees with a heavy thud, his breath hitching. From this angle, he was staring directly into the heart of her. He was blown away by the sight—the sheer, fertile abundance of her, the scent of her musk hitting him in a concentrated wave, mixing with the smell of the room. He looked at the way her heavy thighs trembled and how her pussy pulsed in time with her heartbeat, a raw, opening invitation that promised total consumption. Smoke stayed there for a moment, frozen in awe, a predator captivated by the absolute beauty of his prey. 

“Lines to a Nasturtium.” Smoke whispered, breathy and full of desire.

Up close, the sight was hypnotic. Smoke watched with a predatory intensity as her clit, a swollen, engorged m pearl of deep mauve began to twitch. It was a frantic, involuntary pulsing, jumping against the hood of her pussy as it sought a friction that wasn’t there yet. The sheer anticipation of his presence, the raw dominance of his command, had pushed her body into a state of desperate readiness. 

Below the twitchy pearl, her creamy canal was reacting in kind. Smoke could see the plush walls of her opening clenching and releasing, a hungry contraction that gripped at the empty air. Her pussy was breathing, the tight ring of muscle pulsing in a desperate attempt to pull him inside, the walls sliding against one another in a wet, sliding motion that produced a faint, squelching sound. 

The longer he stared, the more her body surrendered to him. The arousal became a flood. A thick, translucent trail of clear cream began to seep from her depths, glistening under the light. It pooled momentarily on her labia before gravity took hold and a single, heavy drop of nectar began to slide slowly down the curve of her clit, tracing a shimmering path toward the floor. Smoke’s dark eyes followed the drip with a focused, singular intensity, his pupils blown wide, tracking every millimeter of its descent as if it were the only thing that existed in the world. 

Smoke leaned in closer, his face just inches away from her. The scent of her—that heady, musk-heavy aroma of a woman in peak arousal—bit him like a physical blow, making his thick dick throb violently against the fabric of his slacks. Smoke didn’t touch her yet because he wanted her to ache. He wanted her to feel the void where he should be. 

Annie’s palms were pressed flat against the cool wood, her spine arching beautifully. The position thrust her wide, plush hips back, offering her full, rounded ass and plump pussy to him like a feast. The deep dark crease where her cheeks parted. Swollen pussy lips just between them. 

He leaned forward, his warm breath ghosting over her sensitive flesh, sending a fresh wave of shivers through her plush thighs. His tongue caught the dripping trail as it spilled like warm honey. He savored the flavor on his tongue before licking his lips. When he spoke, his voice was a low, gravelly rasp that seemed to hum directly onto her clit. 

“I’m a lick every bit of this sweetness…” Smoke rumbled, his voice a low, a deep vibration. “Bury my tongue deep in ya and lap you clean ‘til you screamin’ my name.” 

Without waiting for a word, Smoke pressed his face flush against her, his tongue sweeping in one long, wet stroke from her opening all the way down to her clit just hanging there begging for attention. 

Annie let out a sharp, strangled gasp, her fingers clawing at the vanity as her back arched further. The sound of it, the wet slapping noise of his tongue meeting her drenched folds filled the space. 

Smoke groaned deep in his chest, the sound primal and hungry. He began to lap at her greedily, his tongue broad and rough, mimicking the motion of a dick. He focused on her clit, swirling his tongue around the swollen bud before sucking it firmly into his mouth. 

Annie’s legs trembled, her knees nearly buckling as she let out a loud, guttural moan. She was soaking him now, her juices coating his lips and chin, but he ain’t give a fuck. He wanted every drop. Smoke pushed two fingers deep inside her, feeling the tight, hot walls of her pussy clamp down on him in a frantic, come-hither motion like he was exercising his trigger finger, all while his tongue continued to punish her clit with relentless pressure. 

Smoke was possessed. Driven by a primal hunger that had been simmering since he first pressed her scent-soaked bloomers to his face. The smell of her—that heavy, musk-laden sweetness—had snapped something inside him, and now he was taking it out on her pussy with a predatory vigor. He didn’t just lick her; he devoured her. With Annie bent over the vanity, her plush cheeks spread wide by his bruising grip, Smoke buried his face deep into her flower. He was eating her like a starving man, his thick tongue working with a relentless force that left no inch of her untouched. 

Smoke started at her clit, his broad tongue sweeping upward in long, wet strokes that slurped up every drop of her arousal. The sound was visceral—a loud, wet, lapping noise, the sound of his lips slurping her open. Smoke was sucking her pussy clean, lips sealed tight around her swollen folds, pulling the sensitive flesh into his mouth and creating a suction that made Annie’s entire body shudder. 

“Goddamn, you taste like heaven…” Smoke growled against her skin, his voice a vibration she felt deep in her womb. “I’m a drink every last drop of you, Annie. Every single fuckin’ bit.” 

Smoke shifted his focus, his tongue becoming a weapon of ruin. He began to lap at her clit with a frantic, greedy energy, swirling around the engorged bud before sucking it deep into his mouth. Smoke slurped at her, his tongue flicking rapidly, wet, tongue thrashing sounds mixed with her arousal, driving her higher and higher. He was trying to clean her out, his mouth working tirelessly to lap up the thick, creamy juices that were flooding from her. 

Annie was a mess, her fingers digging into the wood of the vanity, her head hanging low as she let out uncontrolled moans. Every time he sucked her in, she felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her spine, her wide hips bucking against his face.

Smoke pushed his face harder against her, his nose pressing right up against her rear entrance, inhaling her intoxicating scent while his tongue—dripping with so much saliva it clung to his goatee—continued to punish her, the wet sounds of his gluttony filling the air—slurp, lap, suck—as he worked his way from her clit up to the very entrance of her canal, licking her clean with a possessive, ritualistic gusto. He wanted her tasted, drained, and completely claimed. He used his thick tongue to probe the opening of her pussy, licking deep inside, tasting the salt and sweetness. He was eating her with a desperation that bordered on violence. 

When that thick, wet muscle slapped against her clit and slurped at her opening with a primal greed Annie was seeing stars. 

The world had shrunk down to the sensation of Smoke’s mouth devouring her. She had been rendered speechless for several long minutes, her breath hitching in jagged gasps, her mind a blur of white heat. But as he continued to suck her—pulling her folds deep into his mouth and creating a seal that felt like it was drawing the very soul out of her—she finally broke.

“Smoke…oh, Smoke…please…” she whimpered, her voice shaky and thin. 

She didn’t know what to do with herself. Her hands, which had been gripping the vanity, began to claw at the wood, then wandered blindly, one hand reaching back to clutch at his head, the other pressing flat against the mirror, leaving a smear of sweat and her fingerprints. She was completely at his mercy, her heavy breasts swinging beneath her, rounded belly trembling with every sound she made. 

Smoke didn’t answer with words. He answered with a deep, vibrating hum that echoed through her entire pelvic floor, a low grunt of satisfaction that vibrated against her clit. He was eating her like she was the only thing keeping him alive, his nose buried in her musk, his tongue flicking with a frantic expert precision that drove her toward the edge. 

The sensation became too much—a tidal wave of pleasure that crashed over her. As the first spasm of her orgasm hit, Annie’s head snapped back, her eyes rolling. In the height of her release, she gasped out a phrase in Yoruba, her voice a melodic, breathless moan. 

"Olúwa, mo n'íyìn rẹ...mọ́ mọ́ mi..."

The words were a prayer and a plea. A surrender to the raw power of the man between her thighs. Her plush body began to shake violently, her wide hips bucking uncontrollably against his face. Her pussy clamped down hard on his tongue, pulsing in thick waves, flooding his mouth with a fresh surge of creamy, hot arousal.

Smoke didn’t give her a second to breathe. As she came, he doubled down, sucking her clit, slurping up the overflow of her climax with a greedy, wet sound. He grunted into her, his face drenched in her juices, his tongue continuing to lap and probe her twitching twat even as she shuddered. He wanted to feel every single contraction, wanted to taste the very peak of her pleasure, refusing to stop until he had drained her completely. 

Smoke finally eased back. He stood at his full, imposing height, his chest heaving slightly, dark eyes clouded with lust. Annie turned and leaned against the vanity, her legs trembling, her breath coming in shallow, ragged hitches as she tried to gather the shattered pieces of her composure. She was drenched, her own juices and Smoke’s saliva slicking her thighs. 

Annie watched, mesmerized and breathless, as Smoke reached up and gripped the hem of his tank top, pulling it over his head in one fluid motion. The fabric clung to his sweat–slicked skin before falling to the floor, revealing the raw power of his torso—broad shoulders, a hard, carved chest, and abdominal muscles that rippled with every breath. Smoke shrugged off his pants and underwear with a disciplined efficiency, letting them drop.

Annie’s eyes widened, her throat going dry. There it was—his massive, thick dick, fully erect and pulsing with a heavy vein wrapped around the shaft. It was a formidable piece of meat, long and heavy, with a distinct aggressive right hook that curved slightly at the top, promising to hit every sensitive spot deep inside her. It stood proud and rigid, a dark, swollen pillar of desire that made her pussy react with a sudden, renewed emptiness. 

Smoke stepped forward, no words said. He reached out and gripped her hips, his large hands nearly meeting around her waist with a sudden, commanding strength. Smoke didn’t give her time to adjust. He hooked his arms under her plush thighs, muscles digging into the plush flesh, and hoisted her up, lifting her heavy ass off the vanity. 

Annie gasped, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, her ankles locking behind his back to keep herself anchored to him. Smoke slammed one of his palms down onto the vanity, gripping the edge of the wood so hard his knuckles bulged, anchoring them both. 

Then, he drove into her. 

Smoke didn’t ease in. He aligned that right-curving head with her opening and buried himself deep inside her in one brutal, thumping stroke. The impact was seismic. Annie’s head snapped back, a loud moan escaping her as her tight walls were stretched to their absolute limit by his girth. He buried himself to the hilt, his balls slapping hard against the cuff of her cheeks that spilled over the edge of the vanity. 

Smoke began to move, delivering relentless, thumping strokes that were more like beating down than lovemaking. Each thrust was deep and punishing, the curve of his dick hooking and grinding directly against her G-spot with every plunge. The force of his movements was so powerful that Annie’s plush body was damn near bouncing off of him, her heavy breasts swaying wildly, soft belly slapping against his hard abs with a wet sound. 

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

A raw, carnal percussion. 

Annie was rendered completely speechless, her mouth hanging open, her breath hitching in her throat. She couldn’t find the words. Couldn’t even scream. She could only cling to him, her fingers digging into the muscles of his back. 

Through it all, Smoke never looked away. He kept his gaze locked onto hers, his dark eyes boring deep into her soul. There was no softness in his expression, only a fierce, possessive intensity. He watched her face as he fucked her, watching her eyes glaze over and her lips tremble, savoring the way she broke under the weight of his masculinity. He was claiming her, marking her from the inside out, his silence more commanding than any word he could have spoken. 

He didn’t let up for a second.

His grip on her thighs tightened as he grounded his weight, folding Annie’s plush body even further. He pressed her back against the mirror of the vanity, her spine arching as he tucked her legs deeper over his muscular arms. Her feet dangled in the air, bouncing helplessly with every thumping drive of his hips. The impact was delivered with ferocity, the sound of his heavy balls slapping against her like a wet drum. 

Annie was lost in it, her head tossing from side to side, her voice breaking as she cried out his given name. 

“Elijah…ooh, Elijah!”  Annie wailed, the sound raw. She rarely called him that, but in the heat of this collision, she needed the man. Not the ghost. Not the enforcer. Her Elijah.

 As she looked up at him, her vision blurred with pleasure, she saw the evidence of his hunger. Her own thick, sweet cream was smeared across his dark mustache and glistening on his full lips, a messy trophy of how he had just spent the last thirty minutes eating her out. His pupils were blown wide, swallowing the iris, leaving only two dark, predatory voids that stared into her with an intensity that made her feel like she was being consumed. Inside her, his dick felt like a rod of heated iron, so stiff and thick that it stretched her walls to the breaking point. 

Mid-thrust, as Smoke drove himself deep, burying his length to the hilt, Annie’s hand shot out. Her fingers brushed the surface of the vanity, snagging the lace of her discarded bloomers. She gripped the fabric tight, pulling the scent-soaked garment toward him just as he lunged forward again. 

She pressed the damp cotton directly against Smoke’s nose and mouth, muffling his heavy breathing with the concentrated scent of her own arousal. 

Smoke froze for a split second, the sudden olfactory attack hitting him like a physical blow. The smell of her filled his lungs. It was the scent of his woman, his home, and his obsession. A low, growl ripped from his throat, vibrating against the fabric. 

The scent triggered something feral in him. His eyes darkened even further, and he stopped the thumping, instead grinding his hips in a slow, agonizing circle, twisting that curved head deep inside her at all angles. Smoke inhaled sharply through the fabric, sucking in the essence of her while he stared down, his nostrils flaring. 

“You tryna drive me crazy, Annie?” Smoke rasped, his voice a deep, shaky rasp.

“I ain’t gotta try…you already there, baby.” 

Smoke grunted, bit down on the bloomers, holding the fabric between his teeth, saliva dampening the fabric further and returned to the brutal pace. His strokes becoming even more forceful. He fucked Annie with a renewed, desperate hunger, his body slamming into her plush curves with a force that threatened to knock the vanity over, claiming every inch of her as he chased the edge of his own release. 

“Fuck me, daddy.” Annie moaned, gripping his sweaty biceps. 

Smoke’s pace didn’t slow. If anything, the scent of her on his breath and in his nose had pushed him into a state of pure, focused aggression. He was hammering into her, thick, right-curving dick grinding non-stop over her G-spot with a wet thud that shook the vanity. Annie’s breath was coming in jagged, shallow hitches, her fingers digging into his arms. 

“Get, it, daddy. Get it. Fuck ya’ wife’s pussy. This Smoke’s pussy—ahhh!” Annie gasped. “Tire ni, tire ni, tire ni baba.” 

She could feel it building. A tight electric coil winding up inside her belly, radiating down into her drenched pussy. Every time he bottomed out, her internal muscles clamped tight around him, milking him instinctively. Her voice began to tremble, the words shaking as the pleasure reached a fever pitch. 

“Elijah…I’m…I’m gonna…” Annie gasped, her voice wavering, thin and needy. “I’m ’bout to break, baby…I’m comin’…”

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. 

He let her draws fall from his mouth.

Smoke let out a low hum of approval, the sound vibrating deep in his chest. He leaned in, his chest crushing her plush breasts, his lips grazing the shell of her. 

“Then break for me, baby,” Smoke rasped, his voice a dark, commanding rumble. “Give it all to me, let me feel every bit of it on my dick.” 

Thwack…thwack…thwack…thwackthwackthwackthwack—

“Sweet Jesus, please!” Annie wailed, her voice shaking violently. “Right there…just like that…oh, baby!” 

Smoke groaned. He repositioned his angle, driving his hips forward with a grinding force that pinned her further against the glass. 

Thwackthwackthwackthwack—

“You feel how that pussy hug on my dick?” Smoke grunted, his breath heavy against her neck. “You fuckin’ drenched, woman. Squeezin’ me like you never want me to jump out this pussy—” 

“I don’t!” Annie cried out, her voice cracking. “I want you…I want you deep…right on that spot!” 

“I’m right here,” Smoke growled, his pace becoming a blur of friction and deep-seeded desire. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere. Now cum for your man. Cum on this dick, Annie. Let it go.” 

The command was the final trigger. Annie’s body stiffened, her toes curling as a violent wave of orgasm crashed over her. Her pussy walls began to spasm, clamping down on his thick shaft in punishing pulses. Annnir let out a long, shaky moan, her voice trembling with the power of her explosive orgasm, her entire frame shuddering against him. 

Thwackthwackthwack…thwack. Thwack. THWACK—

Smoke let out a loud, triumphant roar, his own control snapping. He leaned back, grabbed two fistfuls of her heavy breasts, and drove himself in one last time, burning his length to the absolute hilt, his balls slapping hard against her as he began to unload. Smoke groaned, a deep, primal sound of surrender as he pumped thick, hot ropes of cum deep inside her, filling her to the brim while she continued to shake and sob beneath him, completely undone by his strength. 

It wasn’t just hot.

 it was a wet, clinging weight that soaked through cotton shirts in minutes, making clothes stick to skin like a second, suffocating layer. The Mississippi sun was hateful this particular early evening, beating down on the dusty crossroads outside of Clarksdale until the red earth cracked and the horizon shimmered with a dizzying mirage. The only sound that dared to break the oppressive silence was the relentless, screaming drone of cicadas, a noise that felt like it was drilling straight into the skull. Horse flies flew too close because of the donkeys that wandered. Mosquitos feasted happily on any inch of exposed skin it could find. 

Smoke stood by the rusted fender of a Ford Model A, his frame a hard, unyielding silhouette against the bleached-out landscape. He was dressed for business, despite the weather. He wore dark slacks held up by heavy leather suspenders, a wool coat draped over his broad shoulders that he refused to shed, and his cap pulled low, casting a deep shadow over his eyes. His face was a mask of neutral stone, but beneath the surface, he was vibrating. 

In the back of the truck, crates of corn liquor were piled high, hidden under coarse, grit-covered burlap. Gasoline and stale, sharp whiskey wafted up, mixing with the smell of hot dust and the metallic tang of the gun oil on his fingertips. The drivers from the north were jittery, their eyes darting toward the road every time a bird flew over, terrified of a federal raid or a knife in the back. 

Smoke’s jaw was clamped so tight it ached. He didn’t like the way this deal was dragging. He didn’t like the nervous sweat on the drivers’ brows or the way the wind carried the faint, distant sound of a dog barking. Or even how the few bushes across from them moved in a particular direction. Every second they sat exposed at the crossroads was a second too long. The law or the klan—no difference—the pressure was building in his chest, a primal, violent urge to just start shooting until the silence returned. 

Smoke needed to ground himself before he snapped and painted the red dirt with someone’s brains. 

Without a word to the men, Smoke stepped away from the truck, his leather ankle boots crunching on the dry earth. Smoke retreated into the shade of a sprawling cypress tree, its limbs draped in ghostly curtains of Spanish moss that swayed in a breeze that offered no coolness. The shade was dim and damp, smelling of rotting vegetation and ancient water. 

He reached into the inner pocket of his wool coat, his gloved fingers brushing against a piece of soft, white cotton. Smoke pulled it out. It was the bloomers Annie had worn the night he’d claimed her on the vanity, the fabric still holding the ghost of her shape.

 Smoke closed his eyes and pressed the cotton hard against his face, burying his nose in the fabric. He inhaled with a sharp, greedy lungful, hunting for her. 

There it was.

The concentrated, raw musk of her. The salty, pungent tang of her pussy. The deep earthy scent of the root herbs she worked with and the underlying sweetness that belonged only to his Annie. It was a scent of warmth, of plush skin and hidden depths. A stark contrast to the grit of the Delta. 

As he breathed her in, the tension in his shoulders dropped an inch, and the red haze in his vision cleared. Smoke clung to the fabric, his nostrils flaring, feeding on the essence of his wife to keep the monster in his blood at bay. The scent of Annie’s pussy was the only thing that kept him sane.

The spell was broken by the sharp, clack-clack-clack of polished oxfords hitting the hard-packed dirt. Smoke didn’t jump, he wasn’t the type to startle, but his hand snapped shut over the white cotton, shoving the bloomers back into his coat pocket in one fluid, violent motion. Smoke stepped out from the cypress shade, his face returning to that impenetrable slab of granite, just as a flash of cream-colored linen emerged from the heat haze.

Stack strolled toward him, looking like he’d just stepped off a street corner in Chicago rather than a dusty road in the Delta. He wore a tailored three-piece suit of pale cream that defied the grime of the crossroads, a silk tie the color of bruised plum knotted perfectly at his throat. A gold pocket watch chain looped across his vest, glinting aggressively under the harsh sun. He walked with a loose, swinging gait, a smirk playing on his full lips, his fedora tilted at a rakish angle that screamed confidence. 

“Lawd have mercy, Smoke,” Stack called out, his voice a smooth, honeyed drawl that vibrated with amusement. “You look like you fixin’ to bury a body or start another war. Why you standin’ in the shade lookin’ all moody? You gon’ let the heat rot ya’ brain.” 

Smoke just stared, his deep brown eyes tracking his brother’s every movement. The two of them stood there, identical mirrors of the same blood and bone but where Smoke was a closed fist, Stack was an open hand, ready to steal whatever wasn’t nailed down. 

Stack stopped a few feet away, smelling like expensive cologne and imported tobacco, clashing with the smell of corn liquor and horse manure in the background. Stack leaned back, hooking his thumbs into his trouser pockets, his gaze drifting from Smoke’s rigid posture to the sight.

A tell-tale bulge in the inner pocket of Smoke’s coat. 

Stack’s eyes sharpened. He knew that look. He knew the way Smoke’s nostrils flared when he was trying to hold onto something that didn’t belong to the world around them.

“You got a little secret tucked away in that coat, don’t you?” Stack teased, his voice dropping closer, invading Smoke’s personal space with a playful boldness. “Sum’ sweet. Sum’ that smell like home and magnolia. You lookin’ all stressed out, but I reckon you found a way to keep your temper from boilin’ over.” 

Smoke’s jaw tightened, a muscle leaping in his cheek. 

“Get ya’ head right, Stack. We got a shipment to move.” 

Stack laughed, a bright melodic sound that felt out of place in the oppressive silence of the crossroads. He reached out, his fingers grazing the lapel of Smoke’s coat, a daring, risky move that would have gotten any other man’s arm snapped. 

“I’m just sayin’, brother…you holdin’ onto that scent like a dyin’ man hold a prayer,” Stack whispered, his eyes dancing with a forbidden curiosity. “Make a man wonder just how sweet Annie’s been lately. Make me wonder if she still wearin’ them little lace things that make her hips look like a damn miracle.” 

Smoke’s hand twitched toward the grip of the pistol at his hip, his gaze darkening into something predatory. The brotherly bond was there, but beneath it lay a jagged edge of possession and rivalry. Stack didn’t flinch, he simply grinned wider, his eyes locked on Smoke’s, savoring the danger. He loved pushing Smoke. Loved seeing the disciplined enforcer struggle to keep the beast on a leash. 

“Move the crates, nigga.” Smoke commanded, his voice a low, guttural warning.

Stack winked, stepping back with a flourish of his linen jacket.

“Whatever you say, Big Brother. I’ll handle the drivers. They shakin’ like leaves in a storm and I’m just the man to charm ‘em into movin’ faster.” 

As Stack turned to lean the jittery men back to the Ford, he cast one last glance over his shoulder. He didn’t see the bloomers, but he could practically smell the musk of Annie clinging to Smoke’s clothes. A hunger ignited in Stack’s gut. Not just for women, but the thrill of taking something that belonged solely to the most dangerous man in the county. 

The shipment was handled with frantic energy that only comes from men who know the law—or worse the mob—is breathing down their necks. Stack spent the next hour orchestrating the chaos, his voice cutting through the humidity like a whip, directing the drivers and the muscle with a practiced, theatrical flair. He looked every bit the pretty gangster, leaning against the fender of a black Model A, flicking ash from a gold-tipped cigarette while his eyes never truly left his brother. 

Smoke was a ghost in the midday sauna, moving between the crates with a heavy, focused routine. He pointed, shoved, and stared. But Stack noticed the way Smoke’s hand stayed glued to the pocket of his coat, his fingers that were once gloved twitching against the fabric. It was a tell. Smoke was anchored to something, tethered to a scent and a memory that made him dangerous in a way that had nothing to do with the pistol on his hip. 

Once the last crate was loaded and the dust from the departing cars settled back into the red Mississippi clay, the stillness of the crossroads beat down on the twins. Stack watched Smoke wipe grime from his forehead with a handkerchief, the muscles in his broad shoulders bunching under his coat. 

He’s starving for her, Stack thought, a sudden, sharp hunger clawing at his own gut. 

It wasn’t just about the woman. It was the possession of her. 

Stack had always been the one to charm the gals in juke joints, rent parties, dance halls, and Chicago clubs alike. The one who could slide into a bed and out of it before the sun rose, leaving nothing but a scent of expensive cologne and a broken heart. 

But Annie…Annie was different. She wasn’t a gal; she was a force. He remembered the way she looked the last time he’d seen her, that midnight-brown skin glowing, her hips swaying under a heavy cotton skirt, the sheer, plush weight of her body promising a blaze no city girl could mimic. 

Stack pushed off the car, his polished oxfords crunching on the gravel. He walked toward Smoke, his gait loose and predatory. 

“You practically vibrating, Smoke,” Stack drawled, his voice a low, teasing vibration. “I can see it in your eyes. You ain’t thinkin’ ‘bout the money or the liquor. You thinkin’ ‘bout gettin’ home to that woman. Thinkin’ ‘bout how she feel when she pressed up against you. All soft…heavy skin…”

Smoke stopped dead, his gaze snapping to Stack. The look was murderous, a warning that the leash was fraying. 

“Shut ya’ fuckin’ mouth ‘bout my woman, Stack. I swear to’ god that’s my last time warnin’ ya’.” 

Stack didn’t shut it. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, his eyes dancing. “I bet she smell like heaven and earth all at once. I bet she got that musk on her now that get in a man’s blood and stays there. I can smell it on ya’, brother. You drenched in her.” 

The admission sent a jolt of electricity through Stack’s spine. He imagined Annie in the house, perhaps stripped down to her shift in the midday heat, her large breasts straining against the fabric, thick thighs rubbing together as she moved through the kitchen. He imagined the scent of her—that floral, herbal musk with the raw, salty tang of a woman’s sultriness. 

The thought made Stack’s own dick stir. A thick, heavy pressure building behind the fly of his cream-colored trousers. His dick, curving to the left, throbbed against the fabric, demanding release. He wanted to know if she tasted as rich as she looked. He wanted to know if her pussy was as plush and tight as the rest of her body suggested. 

“You outta line,” Smoke grunted, his voice a guttural warning. He stepped forward, his massive frame looming over Stack even though they were the same height. “You gon’ earn a spot next to our daddy if you keep talkin’ slick ‘bout Annie.” 

Stack just grinned, the expression sharp and hungry. He didn’t fear his brother, not technically, he thrived on the friction. He loved the idea that they shared everything. The same face, the same blood, the same hunger translated differently. If Smoke could have her, if Smoke could keep a piece of her tucked in his pocket to sniff like a gahdamn dog, then Stack wanted a taste. He wanted to steal a moment, a scent, a touch. He wanted to see the look on Smoke’s face when he realized that some things were too delicious to be kept by one man alone. 

“I’m just appreciatin’ the finer things, Smoke,” Stack whispered, his eyes flashing. “And Annie…she the finest thing in this whole damn state. Hell, this whole damn South. Ain’t no woman touchin’ Antoinette. Just givin’ my sis in law her praises, Big Brother. After all…I’m the least of ya’ worries. Heard some niggas in town talkin’ bout her.” 

Smoke grit his teeth. Jaw working.

“What they sayin’? Sum that’s gon’ get ‘em bumped off ain’t it?” 

Stack took a hit of his gold-tipped cigarette before passing it to Smoke. “Fed to the eagles.” 

Smoke clocked it. Filed it away. He walked off, his stride heavy and possessive. 

Stack followed a few paces behind, his mind racing, the seed of a dangerous desire now fully planted. He wasn’t just looking for a thrill anymore; he was hunting. He wanted those bloomers. He wanted the scent of her arousal. He wanted to slide his hand where Smoke’s had been, to feel the weight of her hips and the heat of her skin, and to do it all while the most dangerous man in Mississippi was just within earshot. 

The black Model A roared, kicking up a violent cloud of red dust that coated the roadside weeds in a fine, rust-colored powder. Stack sat behind the wheel, one hand draped casually over the top of the steering wheel, his gold rings glinting in the harsh Mississippi sun. He looked every bit of city slicker, his silk shirt open at the collar to let the breeze hit his chest. He glanced over at Smoke, who sat rigid in the passenger seat. Smoke was a statue of tension, his jaw locked, his eyes fixed on the road ahead as if he could force the car to move faster through sheer will. 

“I’m tellin’ you, Smoke, I gotta stop at that stand up ahead,” Stack drawled, his voice smooth as bourbon. “I got a hankerin’ for some tamales. Real ones. Those things they try to sell up in Chicago? Pure cardboard. Ain’t nothin’ like the taste of home to settle a man’s nerves.”

Smoke didn’t even turn his head. His voice came out as a low guttural rasp, stripped of any patience. “Annie’s got a pot of greens and corn pone on the stove. You can eat at the house.” 

Stack let out a short, sharp laugh, a glint in his eyes. He shifted gears, the engine whining as he pushed the car harder. He could feel the heat radiating off his brother. The raw, pulsing desperation. Smoke wasn’t thinking ‘bout no food. He wasn’t even thinking ‘bout the successful drop-off or the stacks of cash tucked away. 

Stack watched the way Smoke’s thick fingers gripped the leather upholstery. He knew that look. He knew the way Smoke got when he’d been away from Annie for too long. Like a starving dog finally seeing the door to the kitchen. 

He ain’t thinkin’ ‘bout no corn pone, Stack thought, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

He could practically see it in his mind: Smoke bursting through the front door, not even stopping to take off his hat before he had Annie pinned against the wall. He knew Smoke had been sniffing those bloomers like a lifeline all day, but the cloth wasn’t enough anymore. He wanted the real thing. The dripping scent of pussy that only a man who owned her could truly savor. 

“You in a mighty big hurry, ain’t ya’?” Stack teased, his voice dropping an octave, becoming a provocative whisper. “I can practically smell it on you, brother. You ain’t worried ‘bout my belly. You worried ‘bout gettin’ your face between them thick thighs ‘fore the sun go down.” 

Smoke’s head snapped toward him, dark eyes flashing with a warning that would have sent any other man running for cover. “Tired of putting your face in sour, street rat pussy, Stack? Ain’t my fault you so stuck on being up North while you missin’ out on some real pussy. Since when you had fresh cooch? That watered down, industrial muff got you sayin’ shit that’ll get you tore up. I don’t play ‘bout Annie.” 

Stack grinned, leaning back into the seat, feeling his own dick throb against the fabric of his trousers. “Why you think I’m back? I miss home, Smoke. Miss my southern gals with sweat on they backs and a hot pussy.” 

The though of Annie and those wide hips, heavy breasts…fuck. The way she always smelled like magnolia and raw woman. It was starting to coil in his gut like a snake. He didn’t want the tamales anymore. He wanted to see the look of possessive rage on Smoke’s face when he realized that Stack was thinking ‘bout the exact same thing.

“I’ll skip the stand,” Stack conceded, his voice humming with a dangerous kind of excitement. “I’m startin’ to get hungry for somethin’ a bit more…substantial.” 

The car crunched to a halt on a path, the engine giving one final, shuddering gasp before falling silent. The house didn’t just sit on the land, it seemed to emerge from it. It was tucked away behind a curtain of weeping willows and towering magnolias that shielded it from the prying eyes of the road. 

To get to the house, one had to pass by Annie’s shack—a small, weathered structure with the fragrance of dried sage, sulfur, and old earth. It was a place of business and mystery, where the locals came for root-work, protection charms, and cured for ailments the white doctors wouldn’t touch. The shack was cluttered with bundles of hanging herbs and jars of murky liquids, a stark contrast to the sanctuary that lay just beyond. 

Smoke’s home was a testament to his silent, disciplined nature. He hadn’t just built a shelter, he had carved a fortress of peace out of the Delta mud. It wasn’t a typical sharecroppers house with a sagging porch and a leaking roof—what they once lived in. This was a sturdy, wide-planked house made of deep-grained cypress and heart-pine, the wood polished. Smoke had built the porch deep and wide, with heavy railings that could support a man’s full weight, overlooking a lush garden of collards, peppers, and medicinal blooms that Annie tended with a spiritual precision.

The greenery swallowed the house in a protective embrace. Thick ivy climbed the walls, and the air felt different around him. It was cooler, dampened by the shade and the smell of damp earth and blooming jasmine. It was a place of absolute privacy, a hidden kingdom where Smoke could shed the skin of the killer and the enforcer and simply be a man. 

Stack stepped out of the car, his polished shoes hitting the dirt. He looked at the house and felt a sudden, sharp pang of envy that had nothing to do with the architecture. He thought about where he was staying. A cramped, miserable boarding house in town where the walls were as thin as parchment. In that place, he could hear every cough, every argument, and every creak from the room next door. 

His bed at the boarding house was a torture device. It was a rusted iron frame with a mattress that had long since surrendered its stuffing. Every night, Stack felt the cold, jagged press of the metal springs digging into his ribs and hips, leaving him restless and wired. He spent his nights tossing and turning in the humid dark, his mind racing, his body aching for a comfort he couldn’t buy. 

Looking at the solid, loving sanctuary Smoke had built for Annie, Stack felt the hunger in his gut intensify. It wasn’t just the house he wanted. It was the warmth inside it. He imagined the soft sheets. The smell of spices and vanilla and musk clinging to the curtains. The plush, heavy curves of Annie moving through the rooms. 

Smoke was already moving toward the door, his pace quickening, his broad shoulders tense with the need to be inside. He didn’t look back at his brother. He was a man returning to his altar, and Stack felt like a thief stepping into a temple, already planning how he might steal a piece of the holiness for himself. As they approached the porch, the scent of simmering greens wafted through the air. Stack felt his pulse hammer on his throat. 

Smoke pushed the heavy, cypress door open, the hinges making no noise because it’s well-oiled. The interior of the house smelled of the savory food Annie was preparing, beeswax, cedar, and the lingering, sweet scent of Annie’s skin. It was a clean, honest space, devoid of the cluttered chaos of the boating house. The furniture was all Smoke’s handiwork. Heavy oak tables and chairs with smooth, rounded edges, built to last a century. 

Stack stepped inside, his shoes clicking softly on the polished heart-pine floors. He reached up and plucked the fedora from his head, holding it by the brim as he let his gaze wander. Usually, Stack’s visits were brief. Business transactions and quick drinks before he headed back to the noise of the Windy City. But today, the tranquil silence pulled at him. He felt the weight of the boarding house sliding off his shoulders, replaced by a sudden, sharp curiosity. 

Stack noted the small details.

The hand-woven rugs from the coast. The jars of preserved peaches on the sideboard. The way the natural light filtered through the lace curtains. It was a home built on love and stability, things Stack traded in but rarely owned. 

As he drifted further into the house, his eyes were drawn toward the hallway. Their bedroom door was pushed ajar, leaving a gap that felt like an invitation. Stack paused, his brow quirking as he peered inside. 

Even from where he stood, he could smell a heavy scent of musk and spent passion. The large iron-frame bed dominated the space. The sheets were a chaotic, rumpled mess of white cotton and linen, twisted as if a storm had passed through them. The floorboards around the bed were marked with scuffs and scratches, evidence of frantic movement and heavy weight. 

But it was one thing that caught his attention. 

The headboard.

Tied firmly to the rusted iron bars were several strips of fabric.

Silk scarves. Sturdy cotton ribbons. All knotted tight. 

They weren’t decorative. They were functional. Worn slightly at the edges from strain. 

Stack stared at the scarves. A slow, knowing grin spread across his full lips, dimples popping out like tiny craters. 

He imagined Annie’s wrists bound tight against those bars, her wide hips arched and shaking as Smoke hammered into her from behind. He could almost hear the wet slap of skin on skin and the way Annie’s voice would break into a shaky, desperate moan when she was pushed to her limit. 

Stack felt a sudden, hot throb in his trousers. His own thick dick stirred against the crotch of his tailored slacks. The thought of his brother using those ties to hold Annie still, to possess every inch of her lush body without resistance, sent a jolt of raw envy through him. 

He wondered if Annie liked the feeling of being trapped. Being completely overtaken by Smoke’s brutal protective hunger. 

“You just gon’ stand there gawked or you gon’ settle?” Smoke’s voice rasped behind him, low and warning. 

Stack quickly shifted his stance to hide the bulge in his pants. He turned back to his brother, the charm sliding back into place like a mask, though his eyes remained dark with the image of those scarves. 

“Just admirin’ the craftsmanship, Smoke.” Stack purred, his voice smooth like the silk of his tie. “You always did have a knack for buildin’ things that last.” 

Smoke let out a short, dry huff of a laugh, his eyes narrowing as he looked at his brother. “Ain’t my fault you stayin’ at that shit hole,” he rasped, his voice like gravel grinding together. “You got more coin than sense, Stack. You can afford to stay somewhere decent, like that fancy-ass apartment you keep up in Bronzeville.”

Stack just shrugged, a playful, knowing glint in his eyes as he leaned against the doorframe. He knew the game of visibility. “That’s exactly why I don’t, Smoke. In a boarding house, I’m just another traveler passing through. I blend in. Safer to be a ghost when you haulin’ the kind of heat I do. Too many eyes.” 

Smoke grunted, not entirely convinced but knowing Stack’s paranoia was usually rooted in profit. He stepped further into the space. 

“You don’t gotta play ghost in your own blood’s house. You can always sleep in the guest room when you come visit. Save yourself the fleas.” 

Stack let out a smooth, melodic chuckle, shaking his head. 

He looked back toward the bedroom door—and those tied scarves—with a flicker of desire crossing his face.

“I appreciate it, truly. But I don’t want to be a bother. Besides,” Stack added, his voice dropping into a suggestive purr, “I fuck too much to be in here violating ya’ home. I’d have some poor girl screamin’ your roof off by midnight, and I know how ya’ get ‘bout ya’ peace and quiet.”

Smoke reached up and peeled off his coat, tossing it over a chair, followed by his cap, which he set firmly on the sideboard. Stack followed suit, sliding his tailored jacket off his shoulders with a fluid motion, reveling the crisp lines of his shirt and the gold chain glinting against his chest. 

“Where Annie?” Stack asked, his voice softening, though the hunger in his gaze remained. 

“Finishin’ up at the shack,” Smoke answered. “Got a few folks comin’ for cleansing and roots ‘fore sundown.”

As they moved toward the kitchen, the rich, savory scent of home hit them full force. On top of the black iron wood-burning stove, a heavy cast iron pot sat simmering, the lid rattling slightly as steam escaped. The smell of slow-cooked collards, smoked turkey, and seasoned cornmeal filled the air. It was the smell of Annie.

“I’m a go check the ice box.” Smoke grunted, his voice low and final. He didn’t look back as he stepped out the back door, the screen door slapping shut with a sharp crack. 

 The moment the door closed, Stack didn’t waste a second. He reached over to the stove, snatching a piece of warm, buttery corn pone from the platter, and slid into a wooden chair. He leaned back, one leg crossed over the other. He was chewing slowly, tasting the salt and corn, but his mind was still vibrating from the sight of the bedroom. After he finished, tongue skimming his teeth, he started flipping a silver coin with a clink-snap against his palm. 

Then, the front door groaned open. 

Stack stopped mid-flip. The coin landed on the table with a dull thud, forgotten. 

Annie walked in, and for a heartbeat, Stack forgot how to breathe. 

It had been months since he’d seen her, and the woman had only grown more lush, more devastating. She was dressed for the end of a workday at the shack, wearing a deep indigo cotton dress that clung to every magnificent curve of her frame. The fabric was stretched tight across her heavy, rounded breasts, the buttons straining slightly against the swell of her chest. As she moved, the skirt hugged the massive, sweeping flare of her hips and the plushness of her thighs, swaying with a weight that made Stack’s mouth go dry. 

She had an ivory-colored lace shawl draped loosely over her shoulders, and her hair was wrapped in a vibrant orange head tie that made her deep brown skin glow. She looked like a goddess of the earth, smelling of dried sage, sweet vanilla, and that raw feminine musk that always seemed to radiate off her skin. 

Stack’s gaze didn’t just linger on Annie. 

It devoured. 

He watched the way her backside moved under the indigo fabric. The heavy jiggle of her rear with every step she took toward the kitchen. He could almost imagine the feel of those wide hips under his palms. The way her soft, ample flesh would spill over his fingers if he dared to grab her. He felt his dick stir and thicken in his trousers, a sudden hard ache pulsing in his groin as he imagined her stripped bare, plush body shaking under him. 

Annie stopped dead in her tracks the moment she spotted him.

Her expression changed from exhaustion to a cold, sharp irritation. Annie didn’t hide her distaste; her eyes narrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line. She knew exactly how Stack looked at her. Like a starving man looking at a feast. 

Bastard. 

“Elias,” she said, her voice a rich, smooth contralto that vibrated right through Stack’s chest. “I didn’t know Smoke had let the circus back into the house.” 

Stack’s eyes slid down from her face to the deep valley of her cleavage and then back up. He gave her a slow, lazy grin. That smile usually worked on every woman from Clarksdale to Chicago, but he knew Annie was different. He knew she carried a blade in her bodice and a spirit that couldn’t be bought or charmed. 

He wanted her. Goddamn if he didn’t. But he wasn’t stupid enough to push her to the point where she’d carve a piece out of him. 

“Now, Annie,” Stack purred, his voice dripping with a forced sweetness. “No need to be so cold. I just came to visit my dear brother and sis in law.” 

Annie ignored the flirtation. She stepped further into the kitchen to set her bag of herbs on the table. As she leaned over, the fabric of her dress pulled taut across her backside, outlining the deep, rounded cleft of her ass. 

Stack’s eyes locked onto it, pupils dilating. He was practically eye-fucking her, his gaze tracing the curve of her waist down to the heavy swell of her hips. He could almost smell the torridity coming off her, the scent of a woman who spent her days working with the earth and her nights being thoroughly claimed by a man like Smoke Moore. 

She straightened up, catching him staring. 

She just looked at him with a mixture of pity and disgust. 

“How you been, Elias?” Annie asked, though the question sounded more like a formality than actual interest. “Still runnin’ scams and dodging the law in the North?”

Stack let out a low, humming chuckle, his eyes never leaving the heavy swing of her hips as she moved. He leaned back in the chair, the silver coin dancing across his knuckles again, though his focus was entirely on the way that indigo fabric strained against her plush thighs. 

 “I been aight, Annie. Just a bit lonely for some of that Southern hospitality,” Stack purred, his voice sliding over her like silk.

Annie didn’t give him the satisfaction of a blush. She just gave him a look of pure, unadulterated disdain, her nostrils flaring. She knew he was tracing every curve of her wide hips and the deep swell of her breasts, and she treated his gaze like a smudge of dirt on the floor. 

“You still got a mouth that runs faster than your brain, Elias,” she snapped, turning her back to him to reach for a pot on the stove. 

The movement was a gift.

As she reached upward, the hem of her dress lifted just enough to reveal the tops of her thick, deep brown thighs and the tantalizing curve of her rear. 

Stack’s dick throbbed violently against his trousers. 

He was practically salivating, his gaze locked onto the jiggle of her backside. 

Then, the screen door creaked. 

Smoke stepped back into the kitchen, his presence instantly swallowing the room. The second his dark eyes landed on Annie, the hard, neutral mask he wore for the world shattered. 

He didn’t say a word. 

Smoke walked straight up to her, ankle boots thudding on the pine floor, and wrapped his massive arms around her from behind. 

Stack watched, a mixture of envy and heat flooding his gut as Smoke claimed her. Smoke’s large, calloused hands didn’t falter. They slid down from her waist and clamped firmly onto her plush ass, squeezing the heavy flesh with a possessive, bruising grip. He pulled her back hard against his groin, letting her feel the thick, curved length of his dick pressing into the small of her back. 

Smoke buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply, his mustache brushing against her glowing skin. He looked like he was claiming his prey, eyes closing as he breathed in her scent of vanilla and musk. He began to whisper something low and guttural in her ear—something private and filthy—that made Annie’s shoulders drop and a small, knowing smile tugged at her lips. 

Annie glanced sideways at Smoke’s coat, her eyes flickering with a secret understanding.

The realization that Smoke was carrying her scent around like a drug while currently squeezing her real-life ass made Stack’s head spin.

“Lord have mercy,” Stack interrupted, his voice loud and jarring, breaking the spell. He stood up, tossing the coin one last time and catching it with a sharp snap. “Ya’ll gon’ get to the fuckin’ or can I find out when I get to eat? ‘Cause I’m starvin’ over here, and the smell of that corn pone is startin’ to make me crazy.” 

Annie rolled her eyes. She leaned back into Smoke’s chest for one last second before pulling away. She shot Stack. Look that promised a blade to the ribs if he kept talking, but the irritation was tempered by the lingering heat Smoke had just sparked in her. 

Annie turned back to the stove, the heavy cast iron skillet sizzling with corn pone and fried catfish. She moved with grace. She slid the golden-brown cakes onto a platter, the scent of grease and salt filling the kitchen. 

Stack leaned against the counter, a glass of liquor in his hand that he’d fetched from the Model A, sipping slowly. His eyes were locked on Annie, tracing the deep dip of her waist and the way her breasts strained against her blouse as she leaned over to scoop collards. He took a swallow of the whiskey, the burn in his throat matching the heat pooling in his groin as he watched her. 

Smoke, meanwhile, hadn’t moved far from her side. He stood silent and strong, dark eyes locked onto his wife. He wasn’t just looking, he was devouring her. His eyes traveled from the curve of her calves up to the heavy swell of her rear, his jaw tight. He looked like a man who wanted to throw the food on the floor and bend her over the table right then and there.

“Here,” Annie spoke with a hushed tone, setting the heavy ceramic plates down on the pine table. 

She stepped behind Smoke, her soft, warm palms landing on his broad shoulders. She began to knead the hard knots of muscle there, her fingers digging into the tension he always carried. Smoke let out a low, grunt, his head tilting back slightly as he surrendered to her touch. 

As the men began to eat, the contrast was stark. Stack ate like a city man—precise, talking between bites, his movements theatrical and light. Smoke ate like a starving animal. He tore into the catfish and corn pone with a primal intensity, his movements efficient and heavy, focused entirely on the fuel and the woman rubbing his shoulders. 

Annie watched them, her intuitive gaze flickering between the two identical faces. She could feel the static in the room, the way Stack’s energy was a jagged line of desire and mischief, while Smoke’d was a heavy, possessive weight. 

“So, Elias,” Annie said, her voice smooth but cautious. “How long you plannin’ on stayin’ in town this time?” 

Smoke didn’t stop chewing, but he answered for his brother, his voice so deep that it vibrated through Annie’s palms. 

“He stayin’ at that boarding house in town. The one with the thin walls and the bedbugs.” Smoke repositioned his hips, his shoulder brushing against Annie’s chest. “I told him he could take the guest room here. Told him he ain’t need to be payin’ a stranger for a drafty room.” 

Annie’s hands paused for a fraction of a second. She didn’t say a word, but her silence was word enough. The thought of Stack sleeping under her roof brought a familiar tightness to her chest. It wasn’t that she feared him, but she knew the wake of trouble he left behind. Stack was a whirlwind of bad decisions and risky gambles, and whenever he rolled into town, he spent half his time trying to convince Smoke to dive headfirst into some new, dangerous venture. She didn’t want that energy in her sanctuary; she didn’t want the instability he brought leaking into the peace she and Smoke built. 

But she felt the way Smoke leaned into her. She knew how much the silent man missed his twin, how the bond between them was a tether that Smoke refused to cut, no matter how many times Stack played the fool. 

Annie sighed, her fingers resuming their massage. She looked over at Stack, who was watching her with a smug, knowing grin, looking every bit the charming rogue who knew exactly how to push her buttons. 

“Now, Elias,” Annie said, her voice softening into a forced sweetness, “don’t be stubborn. You know that boarding house is a pit. Why don’t you just stay here wit’ us? I’ll make sure you got a hot, cooked meal every night you in town.” 

Stack’s grin widened, his eyes flashing. He didn’t look at the food on his plate. He looked straight at Annie. His gaze slid down to her chest and back up with an appreciative, playful hunger.

“Well now.” Stack purred, his voice dripping with honey. “If the lady’s promisin’ to feed me…I’d be a fool to say no. 

The dinner plates were cleared, the remnants of the meal still steaming on the wood-burning stove. As soon as the screen door clicked shut behind Stack, leaving him to retrieve his bags from the boarding house, the playful jagged energy Stack brought with him evaporated, replaced by the heavy, grounding inferno that only existed between Smoke and Annie. 

Smoke didn’t waste a second. He reached out, his large calloused hand wrapping around Annie’s waist, and with one firm tug, he pulled her plush body down onto his lap. Annie let out a soft oomph, her heavy hips settling securely against his muscular thighs. She rested her arms on his broad shoulders, her espresso-brown skin glowing against the fabric of his shirt. 

“Thank you for lettin’ him stay, baby,” Smoke whispered, his voice low and gravelly. He pressed his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. “I know he a handful. Promise you, it won’t be long. Just ‘til he gets his head right.”

Annie exhaled, a long sigh that made her large breasts brush against his chest. She ran her hands over his slicked hair, settling them at the nape of his neck where she drew lazy circles with her thumbs. 

“I know he your blood, Smoke. I ain’t blind to that. But tell your brother he better be on his best behavior while he under my roof. I got a root that’ll put him in line and make him as quiet as a church mouse if he start stirrin’ up trouble for you.” 

Smoke let out a rare, huffing sound—almost a laugh—and tilted his head up. His deep brown eyes were dark, hooded with a hunger that had nothing to do with the meal they’d just finished. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that started tender but quickly turned possessive, his tongue sliding against hers with a primal urgency. 

As they broke for air, Smoke kept his lips brushed against her ear, his breath causing her to shiver as it ticked her ear. His voice dropped to a filthy, desperate whisper that sent a jolt of electricity straight to Annie’s core.

“I can’t stand it, Annie,” Smoke groaned, his hand sliding down from her waist to squeeze the lush curve of her ass. “Those draws I been keepin’ in my coat…the scent done gone dry. I spent all day sniffin’ ‘em just to keep my mind on you, but they don’t smell like you no more. They ain’t fresh.” 

Annie’s breath hitched. The sheer hunger in his tone, the way the most feared man in the county sounded like a starving dog begging for a scrap, made her pussy quiver violently. She could feel the sudden rush of arousal between her thighs, her own juices beginning to soak into the cotton of her underwear.

“You a damn animal,” she whispered, though she arched her back, pressing her softness deeper into his lap.

“I am for you,” Snoke growled, his hand migrating forward, fingers hooking beneath her skirt and slithering up to cup her fat pussy in the palm of his hand. It was hot to the touch and moist. “I need a fresh pair. I need ‘em soaked in you, Annie. I need to smell that sweet pussy fresh off ya’ skin ‘gore I lose my goddamn mind.” 

Annie slid side-saddle across Smoke’s thighs. The movement caused her heavy breasts to sway and her wide, plush hips to grind against him. She reached down, her fingers hooking into the lace edge of her bloomers, and slowly peeled them down. She didn’t stand up. She just slid the fabric down her thick thighs and off her feet. Her swollen, dark pussy was now within reach just beneath her indigo skirt.

Smoke didn’t waste another second. He snatched the fabric from her hand with a desperation bordered on feral. He pressed the damp cotton deep into his nostrils, inhaling sharply, his eyes closing as he drank in the concentrated scent of her. 

Annie let out a low, throaty moan, her hand sliding down to find the massive bulge in his pants. Smoke was rock hard, dick as thick as a forearm and straining against the fabric. She gripped him, squeezing the heavy length of him, feeling the pulse of his heartbeat through his pants. She leaned in, her lips brushing against the shell of his ear, her voice dropping to a filthy, honeyed whisper. 

“I got ‘em extra drenched just for you, Smoke…I been in that shack all day, just sittin’ wit’ my legs open…thinkin’ ‘bout how you fucked me the other night. Thinkin’ ‘bout how you stretched me out ‘til I couldn’t walk straight. Left me sore and achin’ in all the right places.” 

Smoke let out a low growl, his grip tightening on the bloomers, bunching the fabric in his fist as he breathed her in. The image of her alone in her shack, leaking for him, sent a surge of desire through his veins. 

“You like that, baby?” Annie breathed, her fingers kneading his thick dick “can you smell it? Can you smell how much I gushed for you?” 

Smoke didn’t respond with words. He gripped Annie’s thick, brown thighs and hoisted them up, sliding them over his broad shoulders. He dropped to his hands and knees on the floor, positioning himself perfectly between her legs. Annie leaned back in the chair, her breath hitching as she felt the sudden, cool air hit her soaking wet slit, followed immediately by the searing heat of Smoke’s mouth. He dove in with a primal hunger. Smoke didn’t tease; he dove straight in, his long, thick tongue lashing out to swipe across her soaking wet slit. 

Smoke groaned into her meaty pussy, the taste of her hitting him like a drug. He tongued her deeply, tasting the thick, creamy mess she’d been brewing all day, his tongue swirling around her clit before sliding deep between her folds—flat against her labia and curling right at her opening—to lap up every drip of her arousal. He was eating her with a starving intensity, breath heavy against her sensitive flesh, confirming exactly how much she had been longing for him.

 He was devouring her. 

His tongue, thick and powerful, lashed against her clit with a punishing force that made Annie’s entire body shudder. Smoke sucked her clit deep into his mouth, creating a suction that sent electric shocks straight to her core. The sound was wet and obscene. Loud, slapping noises of his tongue meeting her drenched flesh and the guttural groans he made as he tasted the concentrated musk she’d been brewing all day. 

Driven by a need to see the devastation he was causing, Annie reached down and hiked the hem of her skirt up past her waist, bunching the fabric in her fists. She looked down, her eyes widening at the sight of her husband’s head buried between her legs, his jaw working tirelessly as he licked her clean, only for her to gush more juice the moment he touched her. 

The pleasure was becoming too much to contain. 

With shaky fingers, Annie began to undo the buttons of her blouse. She popped them one by one, her chest heaving with every ragged breath. As the fabric parted, she relaxed her breasts from the constraint of her bra, letting them spill out with a heavy, satisfying bounce. 

Lush, and heavy, with a deep rich brown hue that shimmered under the natural light filtering in. They were full and pendulous, swaying slightly as she breathed, the weight of them pulling downward in a way that emphasized her womanly curves. The skin was smooth as fine silk, stretching over the ample volume of her chest. At the center of each breast sat a wide, dark areola, the color of bitter chocolate, circling nipples that were hard and peaking, straining for touch. They were thick and prominent, resting to the intensity of the oral pounding she was receiving below.

Smoke looked up for a split second, his face glistening with her juices, eyes dark as he stared at her swinging breasts. He let out a low, growl, then dove back in, his tongue swirling deep inside her pussy, tasting the creaminess of her while Annie arched her back, heavy breasts bouncing with every thrust of his tongue. 

Her voice broke into a series of high, desperate moans. 

Smoke didn’t pull away. He started talking against her drenched folds, his voice vibrating through her thighs. He sounded possessed, his words muffled by the plush folds of her pussy as he continued to lap at her with a relentless, starving need.

“Goddamn, Annie…I can’t get enough of this pussy,” he groaned, the words wet and thick. 

Smoke pulled back just an inch, his lips glistening with her cream. His dark eyes looked up at her with so much adoration. 

“I spent all day thinkin’ ‘bout it, baby. Every minute I’m out there, I just ache to get my face back in this sweet, soaking wet pussy.” 

Smoke dove back in, tongue delivering a long, sweeping stroke from her bottom to the top, slurping loudly as he sucked her clit so deep she could feel the length of his tongue swipe her button as he sealed his lips. The sound was nasty. A wet, schlick-slurp that filled the kitchen. 

“I need it, baby,” Smoke rumbled, his voice breaking into a growl against her flesh. “I need this pussy to ground me. I need to taste you, smell you…fuck, you taste like heaven and sin all at once, woman. I could eat yiu for a lifetime and still be starvin’ for more.” 

Annie let out a jagged. High-pitched moan, her head snapping back against the chair. The sensation of his tongue lashing her clit while he whispered filth into her folds was driving her to the edge. Her hands flew to her heavy breasts, her fingers digging into the lush flesh. She gripped her own tits, squeezing, the weight of them spilling between her fingers as she kneaded them. 

She watched him from above, her eyes hazy with lust, seeing the way his shoulders bunched and flexed as he worked. She began to roll her hard, chocolate-colored nipples between her fingers, pulling on them in sync with the suction of his mouth. 

“Elijah…oh, Lord, Elijah,” Annie whimpered, her voice shaking. She arched her back, pushing her wide, plush mound harder against his face, demanding every bit of his tongue.

Smoke responded by intensifying the assault. He began to sick her pussy with a cyclone-like force, his cheeks hollowing as he slurped her juices up, making loud, messy sounds. He was tearing her fat, fuckin’ pussy up, his tongue swirling and poking deep inside her, tasting the thick, honeyed musk of her arousal. 

“My beautiful, thick-hipped woman,” Smoke mumbled with a shaky voice that vibrated against her clit. “This pussy the only thing keepin’ me sane. I love how you gush fa’ me, baby. I love how you taste. Give it all to me, Annie. Just leak all over my damn face.” 

Annie’s moans turned into shaky cries. She squeezed her breasts tighter, nipples peaking and straining as she felt the orgasm building, thick thighs trembling on his shoulders while he continued to eat her like she was the only meal he’d ever known. Like the corn pone, catfish, and collards ain’t settle his hunger. 

Smoke’s voice had gone from a rumble to a command, a raw, demanding groan. He didn’t just want her pleasure; he wanted her surrender. He gripped her thick, plentiful thighs, fingers digging into the meat of her legs to hold her wide open, pinning her firmly against his face. 

“Cum on my tongue, Annie—cum fa’ me, baby, gimme it girl I’m workin’ hard for it where my gushy mess at, baby, give it to daddy.” Smoke barked, the words muffled by her soaking wet folds. “Cum right now. I wanna feel you shake. Paint my tongue wit’ that sweet cream.” 

Smoke repositioned his attack, his tongue becoming a weapon of precision. He started to flick her clit with a rapid, punishing speed then his lips created a tight seal around her, sucking her into his saliva-filled mouth. He would go back and forth between quick flicks of his tongue and tight sucks. Wet, slurp–pop, sounds. The sound of a man trying to drain every single drop of cum from her body. 

“Paint it, baby—fuck—give it to me.” Smoke commanded, voice deep and demanding and filled with so much hunger. “I wanna taste every bit of it. Pour it all over my fuckin’ tongue, baby, now—”

Annie was beyond words. Her head was thrashed back, her eyes crossed, and her fingers were practically bruising her own heavy breasts. Her thick, thunderous thighs clamped down on Smoke’s head tight. The command in his voice acted like a trigger, snapping the eruption that had been building in her core. 

“ELIJAH. Oh…my…God—bẹẹni, kan lara ki o dara, bẹẹni—ELIJAH!” Annie screamed, her voice cracking. 

Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, a violent, racking explosion that started in her womb and radiated outward. Her pussy clamped down hard in his mouth, pulsing in powerful spasms that squeezed her juices out in thick, hot bursts. She felt herself gushing, milky–white flooding his tongue, painting his lips and chin in a glistening honeyed trail similar to coconut milk. 

Smoke didn’t pull away from the trap of her thighs. He leaned into it, lapping at her orgasmic floods, sucking and slurping the pulses of her climax as if he were trying to drink her soul. He groaned deep in his throat, a sound of pure, animalistic satisfaction, as he felt her body shudder and quake on his shoulders. 

“That’s it…yeah, paint it…give it all to me,” Smoke mumbled against her skin, his voice thick with lust. 

Annie’s muscles twitched because her thighs trembled violently. The aftershocks of the orgasm continued to ripple through her. She collapsed back into the chair, her chest heaving, breasts bouncing with every ragged breath and shaky exhale. She looked down at him—her husband, her rock—his face drenched in her musk, eyes dark and looking up at her with a look that told her he was far from finished. 

Smoke rose up from between her spread thighs, knees planted firm on the kitchen floor as he stayed right there between them. His big hands came up and cupped the heavy weight of her breasts, palms sliding underneath to lift and cradle them. Both hands wrapped around the plush fullness, fingers sinking into the squishy give as he pushed them together and angled the wide dark areolas straight toward his mouth. 

Annie watched from above, breath catching as his lips brushed the first areola. Smoke kissed slow and open–mouthed, pressing warm, wet kisses all across the dark circle before moving to the thick nipple itself. His tongue flicked out, tasting the pebbles skin, then he sealed his lips around it and began to suck. 

The pull was steady and deep. He sucked in a rhythm that matched the throb still pulsing between her legs, tongue pressing up against the underside while his lips worked in a tight seal. Every few pulls he released with a wet pop, only to switch to the other breast, giving it the same treatment. Back and forth he went, sucking one nipple hard until it stood shiny and stiff, then moving to the other, leaving a trail of spit connecting them. 

Annie moaned low in her throat. The suction sent sharp sparks straight down to her clit, each strong pull making her pussy clench around nothing. She felt the wet, heat of his mouth and the firm drag of his tongue circling and flicking while he suckled. The pressure was building until it bordered on too much before easing off just enough to start again, sending goosebumps over her skin and a tickle down her spine. Her heavy breasts bounced slightly with every switch, the air cool from his spit hitting her wet nipples before his hot mouth claimed them once more. 

“Elijah…” Annie breathed, one hand sliding over his slicked hair as he kept going, sucking and releasing…sucking and releasing, big hands keeping her tits aimed exactly where he wanted them. “te siwaju, mase duro, Elijah…”

She was telling him to keep going. 

He swirled his tongue around the thick stiff tip of her nipples, teasing the nerve endings until she gasped, then he’d plunge it back in, drawing the flesh tight. 

He was keeping her right on the edge. 

“Fuckin’ love these big ol’ breasts, baby—”

“I love the way you make love to my breasts wit’ that mouth—”

“Yeah?” 

“beeni, yes…”

“I eat up every inch of you, baby, you know that—”

“I do, yes—Daddy—yes, I do—”

Smoke used his teeth lightly, grazing the fleshy, ample sides of her pendulous breasts, creating a sharp contrast to the wet, sliding, heat of his tongue. Smoke was working her breasts like they were the only thing keeping him alive, big hands squeezing the plush undersides, pushing the heavy mounds upward to give his mouth better access. 

Annie was completely undone. The words she tried to form died in her throat, replaced by broken, airy whimpers and trembling moans. She couldn’t find the breath to tell him how much she loved it, or to beg him not to stop. Her mind had gone blank, reduced to nothing but the sensation of his mouth. Every time he switched breasts, the sudden rush of cool air on the wet, swollen nipple made her shiver, only for the heat to return a second later as he claimed the other side. 

The suction was so intense it felt like he was pulling the very spoil out of her through her chest. The sensation radiated downward, triggering a heavy, pulsing and in her drenched pussy. Annie felt the wetness leaking from her, dripping down her thighs, while her breasts felt heavy and engorged, tingling with a fierce, electric blaze. 

Smoke looked up for a solid second, pupils dilated and eyelids low like he was drunk off her body. His lips were covered in a mixture of spit and her pussy juices. He saw her dazed expression, her head lolling back, her chest heaving. He let out a grunt and a hum and dove back in, sucking her nipples with an even more aggressive hunger.

Smoke was determined to keep her in this state of mindless, shivering bliss and keep her pussy wet so he can get in it with one stroke and make her cream even more. 

Smoke sensed her peaking, his instincts sharpening. He latched onto her left nipple with a fierce grip, pulling the dark, swollen bud into his mouth. The sensation came in slow draws, each one lingering longer than the last. While he worked that breast, his fingers reached up to grip the right breast, his thumb and forefinger catching the other stiff nipple and twirling it, rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers.

The dual sensation—the deep, wet heat of Smoke’s mouth on one side and the firm, twisting friction on the other—was too much. Annie let out a broken, high-pitched keen, her hips bucking instinctively against the air. She was completely undone, her mind a gaze of deep-brown skin and the overwhelming presence of her husband.

“Smoke…oh god, Smoke,” she whimpered, her voice shaking and thick with lust. Annie reached down, her fingers brushing against the hard, heavy ridge of his dick pressing against his pants. The feel of him—thick, long, and pulsing with a need that mirrored her own—sent a fresh wave of wetness crashing through her. 

Annie couldn’t take the anticipation anymore. The need to taste him, to feel that massive length in her mouth, becaus an obsession. She began to plead, her voice dropping a guttural rasp. 

“Smoke…please, baby…please let me,” Annie begged, her breath coming in short, jagged gasps. “I need it. I need to suck you…let me taste you, Smoke. Please, let me suck ya’ dick.” Her eyes were pleading and glazed. “I’m beggin’, Daddy…let me get on my knees. Let me take it.” 

Smoke let out a grunt. He stepped back, pulling away from her plush breasts, leaving her nipples swollen, dark, and glistening with saliva. He stood tall, his imposing frame casting a wide shadow over her, but the bright Mississippi sun that early, summer evening streamed through the kitchen windows, bathing his brown skin with rich, gold undertones in a warm light. 

Smoke reached down and gripped the hem of his shirt. He lowered his suspenders from his shoulders. He started unbuttoned his shirt, eyes never leaving Annie’s face. 

“It’s okay, baby…daddy gon’ give you this dick, aight? You ain’t gotta beg me, baby. This dick belong to you. You take this dick, hear?” 

The light hit the hard planes of his abdomen, highlighting the ripple of his muscles and the deep, rich tone of his brown skin.

Annie, still breathless and trembling in the chair, watched with wide, glazed eyes as he stood before her. Her heart hammered against her ribs, pussy throbbing with a wet, heavy pressure that made her feel like she was melting into the wood of the seat. She reached out with shaking hands, her fingers fumbling with the buttons on his pants. She could feel the heat radiating off him. Primal. Masculine. Smelling of tobacco, musk, and raw desire. 

Her fingers popped open the button and she slid the zipper down with a slow, agonizing rasp. As she reached inside to hook her fingers into the waistband of his underwear, pulling the fabric down and away, his dick sprang free with a heavy thud against his lower belly. 

Annie froze. Her breath hitched in her throat.

The natural light from the window hit him perfectly.

It reflected off the smooth, taut skin of his shaft. 

His dick was a masterpiece of masculine power. 

Thick. Long. Pulsing with a life of its own. 

The skin was a deep, dark brown, stretched tight over the engorged veins that coiled around the length like vines of temptation. The head was a swollen, blunt crown, glistening with a so much pre-cum it left behind a long, slimy string that was still connected to his underwear. It sparkled like a dining against the dark velvet of his flesh. 

Annie stared. Mesmerized by the way it curved slightly to the right. A heavy, authoritative arc that promised to fill every fucking inch of her. The sheer size of it made her mouth water; just looking at the thickness of the base…where it joined his muscular thighs…made her imagine the feeling of it stretching her wide, splitting her open and hitting the very back of her womb.

A wave of pure, unadulterated lust crashed over her. 

The size of his pleasure stick…

Standing proud and rigid in the golden light made her feel small and greedy. She felt a primal urge to serve him. To wrap her lips around that massive head and feel the pulse of his heartbeat in her throat. Her pussy gave a violent, needy squeeze, leaking a fresh torrent of slickness down her thighs as she gazed up at the man who owned her soul and body. 

Annie had memorized every vein. Every ripple of muscle. The way the sunlight danced on the wet tip of his dick, knowing that in a few moments she would be tasting every bit of it. Her voice was a fragile, trembling thing, barely a whisper as she looked up at him from her knees. Her eyes were glossy, wide with a mixture of awe and hunger. 

“I ain’t never seen nothin’ so beautiful in my whole life,” Annie whispered, her voice shaking with the intensity of her arousal. 

Her fingers wrapped around the thick base. As her fingers circled, the tips barely closed around the girth, her palm pressing against him. As she began to stroke him, her movements were slow and delirious, her gaze locked onto the way his dark skin slid over the engorged veins. Annie looked up at him with a look of pure, submissive devotion, her expression screaming that she couldn’t believe he possessed such a massive, powerful piece of meat. 

Smoke let out a sharp, jagged breath, his head snapping back, adam’s apple bobbing, a wave of pleasure crashing through him. He was ruined. The contrast of her soft, supple hand gripping his rigid dick was almost too much to bear. He looked down at her—his lush, opulent wife, her heavy breasts swaying and her face filled with worship—and felt a surge of primal dominance. 

Annie leaned in, her breath hot against his skin.

 She started with a long, wet lick from the base all the way up to the crown. She moaned deep in her throat, a sound of pure satisfaction as she tasted him. 

“My big, strong man,” Annie whispered against his flesh, her voice thick with lust. “Got such a big dick…such a beautiful, big dick.” 

She licked him again, more insistently this time, swirling her tongue around the swollen head and catching the bead of pre-cum. She was praising him with every wet sound. Every shaky breath. Treating his dick like a holy relic. She looked up at him again, her lips glistening with his pre-cum and her spit, her eyes pleading. 

“You so big, Smoke,” Annie groaned, her hand tightening its grip, pumping and bouncing that meaty dick in her grip. “I just want it…I want all of this dick inside me. But I gotta taste ya’ first. I gotta serve ya’…”

Smoke groaned, his hips giving a small, involuntary twitch forward. He reached down, his hand burying itself in the fabric of her headwrap, tilting her head back so he could see the sheer desperation in her eyes. He loved the way she looked at him. Like he was a god. Like his dick was the only thing in the world that mattered. 

“Then get it, baby,” Smoke growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Open that pretty mouth and take every inch of it.”  

She opened her mouth wide, her lips parting in a wet, eager circle as she leaned forward to take him. She started by swirling her tongue around the broad, weeping head of his dick, tasting the thick bed of pre-cum that clung to his slit and wouldn’t stop leaking. She let out a muffled moan of approval, her eyes fluttering shut for a second as she savored the taste of his skin. 

Then, she slid forward, taking the head and the first few inches of the shaft into her mouth. The sheer girth of him stretched her lips tight, filling her oral cavity completely. She loved the feeling of being stretched, the way her cheeks puffed out slightly to accommodate the massive thickness of his meat. She knew exactly how Smoke liked it. He didn’t want a gentle touch. He wanted to feel her struggle and succumb to his size. 

Annie started to suck. 

She used her tongue to massage the ridge of the glans—his most sensitive spot—creating a wet, slapping sound every time her lips broke the seal to gasp for air.

Slurp. Pop. Shlick

The noises were raw and vividly resonant. 

Annie focused on the underside of the shaft, flicking her tongue over the vein that pulsed like a living thing against her palate. As she worked her way deeper, she felt the back of her throat tighten. She pushed past her limit, gagging slightly as the head of his dick hit the back of her throat. Instead of pulling away, she leaned into it, her eyes watering, her nose closer to his pubic hair the more she tried. 

She loved the feeling of him claiming her mouth. The way he dominated her breathing. 

She began to bob her head. Sliding up and down the length of him, throat working hard to swallow as much as possible. Nose pulling in air so she wouldn’t choke. Lips and jaw muscles working to keep a tight ring around his shaft as she sucked. 

Smoke was losing his damn mind.

He gripped the fabric of her headwrap tighter, knuckles bulging, guiding her with a firm hand. His hips twitched forward instinctively, driving himself deeper into her wet mouth. He loved the suction she created. The way she slurped and sealed his dick, pulling at him with a needy intensity and a slow, roll of her neck that made his toes curl in his ankle boots. 

“Yeah, like that, baby…do it like that,” Smoke groaned, his voice a jagged rasp. “Suck it…take all this meat, you such a greedy lil’ thing.” 

Annie responded by increasing the suction, cheeks hollowing out as she pulled on him. She used her hand to grip the base of his dick, pumping in sync with her mouth, ensuring that every single inch of him was being stimulated. She could feel the vibrations of his groans traveling through his dick and into her jaw. 

Annie looked up at him through her lashes, her eyes dazed and devoted, watching the way his face contorted in pleasure. 

She knew the signs. The way his breath became short and shallow. The way his thighs began to tremble. 

She sped up, her tongue working frantically around the head while she sucked the shaft with a powerful force. The sound became a wet, messy symphony of lubrication and lust, the squelch of her saliva coating his dark stick as she worshipped him. She was determined to drain every drop of pleasure from his massive frame. 

Smoke’s hand clamped tight onto Annie’s headwrap, his fingers digging into the fabric to anchor her firmly in place. He stopped letting her set the pace and took complete control, his hips beginning to drive forward in a slow, punishing motion. 

He started fucking her mouth, the thick rigid length of his dick sliding deep into her throat with every thrust. 

Annie looked liked she’d been crying for hours—eyes puffy, spit-covered, cheeks sunken and lips puffy from all that damn sucking—and Smoke loved it. 

His face was a mask of raw, unfiltered pleasure. 

His features contorted, eyes squeezed shut as he felt the wet, tightness of her mouth gripping him. A low, jagged groan ripped from his chest. Smoke was shaking, powerful thighs trembling with the effort of holding back the tide, but the sensation of her tongue swirling around the head while her throat squeezed the shaft was driving him over the edge.

“Goddamn, Annie…” Smoke rasped. “You suck it so fuckin’ good…mouth feel like heaven…so tight…so wet…”

Smoke thrust deeper, forcing a muffled, throaty whimper from her. He loved the way she surrendered her mouth to him. The way her eyes fluttered in devotion as she took every inch of his girth like a good wife supposed to. Smoke could feel his dick pulsing violently inside her mouth, the veins throbbing against her tongue, engorged to the absolute limit. 

Then, she grabbed for his balls. His heavy balls. They were covered in spit. Annie used her fingers to massage his wet balls like they were fine jewels. A soft, rotating motion that tickled in the best way. 

The pressure in his loins became an unbearable ache, a white–hot tension that demanded release. Smoke increased the speed, his thrusts becoming shorter, harder, and more desperate. The sound of his dick sliding in and out of her mouth became a wet, slapping symphony—shluck, squelch, pop—as he drove himself into her. 

“Look at me. Look up at me while you suck my pole. I wanna see your eyes when I cum.”

Annie did just that. She flicked her gaze up at Smoke, giving him a slow, tantalizing blink like a femme fatale flapper. 

Smoke arched his hips forward at the same time Annie sucked. His fingers dug into her plush shoulders. He sounded like he was fighting for air. 

“I’m gon’ cum, Annie,” Smoke growled, his grip on her headwrap tightening until his fingers shook. “I’m ‘bout to blow—baby—take it all…take every fuckin’ drop of me—”

Smoke gave one final, deep plunge, burying himself to the hilt in her throat, his hips locking against her face as the first violent wave of orgasm crashed through him. 

maybe I’ll write a part two.

Poem: Lines of a Nasturtium by Anne Spencer

CW: 🔞Mentions of pregnancy loss. Smut. Profanity. Smoke is doing too much too soon. Slight possiveness.

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/87349321

Chapter Word Count: 6,900

Story Notes: It may seem like a lot bc there is a lot of moving parts (which is why I lost some writing steam) but I think it will make sense in the end. Well, i hope. 💀💀💀 Everything and everybody has a role and I’m trying to lay specific groundwork. Also for the purpose of this story, I am spelling Brasil with a Z because that is how most Americans spell it but after visiting, the ppl of Brasil respectfully want us to spell it with an S and they will let you knoooow that lol. As they should.

Inspo/credit: I had the idea and the location/setting is inspired by comments from @brownskincheyenne and @mai4u . Thank you to @lizbehave & @brownskincheyenne for letting me bounce ideas off of them. 💛

A/N: Ola! 🇧🇷 Part 2 (there wasn’t supposed to be a part 2 😭☹️) will be out soon within the week; it is done. I just need to edit grammar. And noooo i’m not lying, friends. lol. Mkay bye. 💛

🏝️🏖️🛫

Jordyn paused her hops around the classroom, her hair beads knocking to a stop. The seven year old was scheduled to be at recess with the rest of her classmates but as usual, she opted to hang with Annie instead. Their relationship wasn’t the standard student- teacher. Jordyn’s mom, Jazmine, and Annie both went to the same middle and high schools.

The busy mom was more than elated when she attended Open House night at the start of the school year to find Jordyn’s name under Annie’s on the pamphlet.

And when Jazmine miscarried her identical twins over Christmas break, Annie had been the one to check in on them daily. Jordyn was a chunky lil thing.

Thick fro, sable brown skin, with a distinctive birthmark. A gray patch of hair along her hairline. “Ms. Celestine?” Her little face was inquisitive.

Annie looked over at the little girl who was still out of breath from her marathon around the classroom.

“Hm?” Annie hummed as she wiped the whiteboard clean of the day’s evidence. From the look of curiosity on Jordyn’s face, the woman anticipated something borderline inappropriate and or slightly offensive. Maybe both.

“When you go-gonna get to get marry and have a baby like my mom?”

She was right. Not appropriate.

The teacher padded over to the young girl. Her black strapless maxi dress moved with her every step while the keys on her braided lanyard bounced rhythmically.

“Jordyn, it’s not nice to ask grown ups this question, baby.” She patted the top of the girl’s head. “And sometimes… some ladies don’t want to get married and that’s okay too.” Annie reasoned.

The child pondered and Annie saw her wheels churning.

“Sorry.” A little pout formed on her two toned lips. “But I think you gonna have a baby soon. A girl! Like me.”

Annie relented. “Come on, recess is almost ova’. “

————————————————————————

Annie’s car keys clattered on the end table. Twenty four hours from now, she’d be on an airplane to Rio and she still wasn’t packed. She didn’t even know where her passport was because she spent most of her time planning the actual itinerary. An incoming facetime came through. Tisha and Kym.

“What time we need to be at the airport?”

Kym was more than Annie’s friend.

The two women had been inseparable since their college days at Tulane University and now they were both teachers. Kym taught eighth grade at a private catholic school, her everyday far different than Annie’s who taught second grade at Langston Hughes Charter School.

She sighed. “Let’s be there for nine in the mornin’ tomorrow.”

Though Kym and Tisha were miles apart from each and both at their respective apartments, they both made the same exact displeased face at the same time.

“Ann, our plane from hea’ to Atlanta don’t take off until 1pm… “

Annie stopped rummaging in her walk in closet for her passport to place her annoyed face into the camera. “And?” Her eyebrow raised.

The two women didn’t push any further seeing as how Annie was in control of their tickets and everything else.

Her doe eyes fixed them with a pointed look. “Ya’ll two betta’ be on time or I’m canceling ya’ll tickets.”

————————————————————————-

📍 Atlanta Airport. 📍

The quick two hour flight from New Orleans to Georgia breezed by for the group of friends. Flight attendants saw them in matching leopard print two piece sets and quickly determined that the three had to be celebrating something.

Once Kym briefly mentioned that it was her birthday, the drinks were in abundance.

Now, tipsy and needing to pee, they each took turns watching all of their purses while they went to the restroom one by one. Annie sat on the dark blue colored chair with her knees under herself as she spoke with her mom and balanced a lemonade from Popeyes in her free hand.

A neutral robotic voice came through the overhead speakers.

“Gooooood evening, ladies and gentleman. It’s your gate agent Seth and I’m here with my lovely colleague Yolanda.

Delta welcomes you to gate C44 for flight 4535 to Rio De Janeiro. Boarding will commence shortly.”

Her mother, Josephine, whom was on the other end of the line and hundreds of miles away heard the loud announcement as well. The fifty year old woman certainly had her reservations about her only child traveling so far away from home but her bones rested in the fact that Annie was never alone. Even if she was the only physical being standing in a room, she’d always have company. Josephine and her mother, Ann-Marie, made sure of that.

But something or someone told her, showed her-that this trip would be good to her daughter in more ways than one.

“You watch yaself out there na’. Pray your protections everyday. You and them girls stick together like ya was born together.

Ya hear me?”

Annie began packing up her carryon and headed towards the trashcan to toss her half eaten meal. “I hear you, mama.”

A couple hundred feet away at an empty gate of a recently departed flight to Amsterdam, Elijah sat, his deep brown pools tracking the Delta app for his boarding status. Being an active entrepreneur afforded him many things such as a last minute $7,000 business class ticket to Rio. As it turns out, car dealerships and gas stations provided well. Real well. His cracked Iphone vibrated in his large palm. Stack.

A janitor stood right in front of him to empty a trashcan. But in his peripheral, he saw her. He saw the way her braids bounced with her every step towards the nearby garbage can on the side of her seat. Smooth dark skin shining under the lights. He was captivated but to anyone walking past the stoic man, they still wouldn’t have known. Stack was still on the line after saying his brother’s name for the third time. “Smoke!”

Elijah tore his eyes from Annie to look out of the window at the massive parked airplane.

“Yeah?” He tried to remain nonchalant.

Elias asked his question for the fourth time. “You need me out there?”

An announcement from a woman over the intercom cut in. “Ladies and gentlemen, we are now boarding military personal and Delta One passengers for flight 4535 to Rio De Janeiro.”

Smoke grabbed his carryon and headed towards the gate. “No, ion need you.”

The call was disconnected before Elias could respond. A text quickly followed.

Stack 💸: Fuck you too nigga. Be safe.

Smoke 💨: I will.

Annie and Kym were standing with their bags in hand while Tisha rushed to the restroom last minute. Goosebumps formed on Annie’s forearms but she didn’t know why.

Shortly after, Tisha returned with the entire stock of bathroom napkins in tow as she strolled over to her friends with a grin that usually indicated that she was up to no good.

Tisha placed her bag on the chair in front of her so she could readjust her clothes and apply a bit of carmex to her pouty lips. “Ann! Ol’ boy in the blue sweats been eyeing you for damn near ten hours. You ain’t see it?!” Both Annie and Kym looked at her in confusion and slight annoyance when they saw all of the paper towels in her bag. “Turn around and look to ya left.”

Annie slightly craned her neck before Tisha stopped her. “Wait, girl. Don’t make it obvious because his ass still looking.”

But Annie didn’t care. She never did.

The repeated sound of boarding passes being scanned provided the perfect cover as all three women surveilled all of the passengers at the gate.

Annie took in the surroundings and stopped, only to find Elijah gawking at her unapologetially as he held up the boarding line for the other business class customers.

He gave her one piercing glance over from head to toe and nodded to himself as he if he were answering a question. One of the gate agents stepped in.

“Mr. Moore, if we can please have you head this way down the jet bridge, please.” The worker motioned towards the steel door but as with everything else in his life, Elijah took his sweet time. Kym looked over at Annie who still hadn’t move from her place. “Bittttcchhh. He is eye fucking you. The fuck goin’ on right na’?”

Neither of them said or did anything as they continued to stare at each other mercesilly. Annie broke the contact first so that she could unplug and untangle her charger from the seat. After a solid minute, his grip tightened on the shoulder strap of his carryon before walking through the boarding door.

By hour four of the nine hour flight, all three women started to feel it. They were cramped, hot, and tired. Kym complained of a Charlie horse in her right leg.

Premium Economy certainly wasn’t worth the extra money, especially on their teacher’s salary. The flight crew began the first meal service with several hot food carts being rolled between the aisles.

The male flight attended stopped in the row of them. “Chicken or veggie?”

A young black woman sporting a deep red lip and knotless braids while holding a tray with three wine glasses stopped at Row 17 where the women were sitting. She bent down and began passing out the glasses to each of the women.

This certainly wasn’t the same wine they received about thirty minutes ago so they looked at her in bewilderment, but the flight attendant only smiled because she knew. The final glass was handed to Annie along with a small white card.

“Mr. Moore in seat 7A requested that I bring these over to you all.” She smiled and continued. “He also wants me to give this to you specifically.” Annie was handed a business card as she furrowed her brow.

Elijah Moore. Co-Owner and Operator of Moore Honda Dealership.

Jackson, MS

Ph: 601-276-8324.

Kym’s long nails nearly scratched the back of Annie’s hand when she snatched the card from her grasp. “You better get on him ‘fore I do.”

The flight attendant eased her way back into the Business class cabin, heading straight to Smoke’s seat that was soon to be prepared and switched to a lie flat position for bed. “Mr. Moore, she accepted it.”

📍Annie’s hotel. JW Marriott Rio📍

The three women and their luggage piled into the entryway of the suite made up of connecting rooms. One king bed and two double queen beds welcomed them in along with the scent of ocean water from the slightly ajar window.

“Ann, you can take the main room since you so graciously planned everythin’.”

She didn’t refute because it was needed. Everything hurt.

Tisha raided the minibar and cracked open a bottle of inexpensive wine.

“We made it!! No students, no work, just fun and Annie gettin’ fucked! Cheers!” She smacked Annie’s plump ass.

Kym laughed as she watched the two but Annie wasn’t impressed.

“I need a nap. Bye.” She shut the door and instantly reached for her bag to find Smoke’s card in the front pocket.

📍Hotel Emiliano. Smoke’s Suite 📍

His phone vibrated on the nightstand right next to the stack of Brasilian Real dollars.

An unknown number with a 504 area code appeared.

Annie: Thank you for the drinks. Annie.

That was all she said. No emoji. Nothing.

Annie? She’s from New Orleans? Smoke thought to himself. Only three hours away from his home and more importantly, probably minutes away from one of three gas stations he owned in her city.

Smoke: Welcome. 😊

Another text came through.

Smoke: When can I see u?

Annie fidgeted with the tv remote as she pondered on a response. She was here for a vacation, not for whatever this was. What it could be.

Annie: Ima think about it. I hope you ain’t crazy.

She replied via her iPad before setting it down to walk to her ensuite bathroom.

His response came in before she could even sit on the heated toilet seat.

Smoke: 😊

Three soft knocks sounded off at the door of Elijah’s suite. It was the hotel manager, Manu. The middle aged blonde woman happily greeted Smoke every time he visited and this time was no exception.

A small round cake with a bottle of champagne was given to him commemorate his tenth visit to the property.

———————————————————————-

The three women were squeezed into the backseat of the small suv as the Uber driver carelessly swerved in and out of busy traffic with the car windows down.

Humidity was a killer but that hadn’t stopped the women from taking in the sights and sounds of busy downtown Rio.

They sighed at the sounds of the water waves from nearby Ipanema Beach, which they planned to visit the next morning to watch the sunrise. Tourists painted the city for Carnaval. It was a Monday night but it felt like a weekend … and there’s only one place to be on Monday nights in Rio.

Pedro De Sal. A widely known weekly block party where everyone of all races and ages gathered for food, music, and drinks.

Her phone buzzed as she exited the Uber.

Smoke’s phone number still wasn’t saved yet but she recognized the area code instantly.

Smoke: You be safe tonight wherever you end up.

Annie: Thank you. You too. 💟

One emoji this time. They were getting somewhere.

Tisha and Kym lead the way while Annie slowly padded behind them with her phone in hand. She was wearing a green low v cut top that exposed her titties as they threatened to spill over, paired with a khaki colored mini skirt and gold jewelry to match.

“Get off that phone and let’s get to it.” Kym threw over her shoulder in Annie’s direction. Before they could even enter the chaos, a young woman with braids and sable skin stopped them. Unfamiliar words began tumbling out of her mouth while the ladies smiled at her awkwardly. It was Portuguese. Annie held up her phone near the woman’s mouth so that Siri could translate.

“You are so pretty!” Siri translated relayed. She spoke her reply into the speaker, thanking the woman and paying the compliment back because the woman was in fact gorgeous as well. Tonight was going to be a good night.

Scents of cigarette smoke, cheap perfume, food and sweat permeated the air as the women approached the gravel road.

It felt like home, even more so when the DJ shouted them out on their walk up.

Tisha spun around in a circle, her neck stretched out trying to figure out the source of the savory food in the air.

The spices tickled her nose.

“I’ma need whateva’ smelling fire like this.”

A man rolling a cart walked near them and it clicked that he was responsible.

“Excuse me.” Annie waived to grab his attention and he made his way to the girls with a smile. “Can we have some?”

The man stared at her in confusion but his grin remained. Tisha took out her phone to translate just as Annie did a few minutes ago. They were handed small plastic bowls of MOQUECA BAIANA, a Brazilian fish stew served over a bed of fluffy rice.

Kym tried to hand the man a few Brazilian Real to pay him but he declined then proceeded to roll his cart over to the next group.

An hour went by while the woman danced the warm night away and lost track of time. Annie was swaying back and forth with a drink in hand while Tisha and Kym were trying to clumsily film a Tiktok to a popular Funk song. Her phone buzzed again.

Elijah: You good?

Annie: Yea.

Elijah: Got time for me tonight?

Annie: Maybe…

Elijah: Good. Where are you?

Annie: Some kinda block party…

Smoke visited Brazil quite often so he knew there was only one place that she could be right now. She looked over at her girls who were already staring at her while they watched her practically be face first in her phone.

Kym’s left eyebrow raised. “That’s that man, ain’t it?”

Annie took a sip of her drink but even in the darkness of the evening, the women still noticed her blushing.

Tisha spoke next. “What he want now?”

Kym laughed. “Bitch, ain’t it obvious? He want ha!”

This wasn’t typical Annie. Texting, spending her night on the phone like some teenager, and actually considering meeting up with a man that she barely knew. Though it’s only been less than twenty four hours, they’d never seen her like this. Ever. A local woman squeezed herself in between the women with a smile.

Her English wasn’t the best but she tried.“Dance… wiff me.” And the women happily obliged. DJ Batata’s “Movimento das Maravilhas” took over the crowd and brought everyone to the middle of the street. Annie had her hands on her knees while Tisha and Kym filmed and hyped her up despite all of their phones having a low battery. Forty five minutes later and she still hadn’t responded to him nor had she agreed to anything yet because she was preoccupied with getting her third drink of the night.

Smoke: ?

Smoke: Sending a car your way rn

While standing in line to try Brigadeiros, a Brazilian dessert, she decided to check her phone that was dying and overheated.

Shit. But truthfully? She wanted to go and something deep down guided her to do so.

Maybe it was curiosity or something else that she wasn’t ready to name yet.

Kym walked over to her and handed her a plastic bottle.

“What he sayin’?” Her chin pointed down at Annie’s phone.

She fidgeted. “He wanna see me but ion know about all of that.”

The food vendor handed her a plate of the well loved desserts along with a glass of cold Brazilian Lemonade.

Kym frowned. “And why not? Seems like you wanna go ta’ me. You should.”

“We on a girl’s trip. I ain’t come here for all ‘dat and… I don’t even know him.” Annie sighed.

“Ann, we want you to have fun. You planned everything and been stressed ova’ it for months. Go enjoy.” Kym practically shooed her away.

“Enjoy it safely because I don’t need your mama usin’ her magic to turn me into Chihuahua at three in the mornin’ if something happen to you.” She added on a second thought.

Smoke: The driver pullin’ up

Finally, she responded.

Annie: Okay. Coming.

The three women hugged as they shared their goodbyes for the night. Tisha grabbed Annie’s clutch bag to slip an AirTag inside of it while Kym triple checked that she could see Annie’s location on her phone. Kevin, the chauffeured driver of the SUV stood against the vehicle as he scanned the perimeter for his expected passenger while holding a sign with Annie’s name on it.

———————————————————————

Even the hotel lobby smelled expensive.

Accents of golds and browns adorned the front desk and the nearby sitting area.

The worker at the concierge desk smiled as Annie walked past their desk, her skirt exposing her thick thighs. Hell, everything was exposed and she was starting to feel out of place.

“Annie.” His Southern lilt immediately grabbed her attention. His Mississippi accent surely didn’t line up with her Louisiana one but it surely stuck out like a sore thumb in a lobby filled with only Portuguese speakers. Smoke sauntered over to her as if he was a predator stalking its prey, because he was. His eyes surveyed her partially clothed body and his displeasure at her outfit was evident. Annie’s skirt was too short and he was going to let her know. His eyebrow raised.

“This whatchu’ wore all night out there?”

Annie’s face scrunched up in confusion as a familiar warmth began to pool between her slick sweat thighs. But before she could even reply, he took her hand in his and eased them to the gold elevators.

——————————————————————

When she exited the spacious shower, Elijah had a multitude of brand new toiletries splayed out for her use. The bathroom countertop contained a brand new toothbrush, makeup remover wipes, toothpaste, lotion, and a fresh bathrobe with an E emblem that hung loosely on the nook. She quietly thanked him for the items but… they weren’t usual and she was hesitant to use them.

She left the bathroom to make room for the man even though it wasn’t needed.

Now, she sat on the sofa with her thick legs folded under. Smoke was right, the warm shower that he suggested thirty minutes ago did her well. She was beyond relaxed now.

The extra vodka shot inside of the Caipirinha was hitting.

It was Elijah’s turn to shower now. His dick hardening under the continuous stream warm stream. He grabbed the hand held shower-head and angled it towards his broad back, sighing in content.

He had her right where he wanted. Her smiles from earlier today replaying over and over for him as he closed his eyes.

Annie’s phone buzzed on the couch cushion as Tisha’s contact photo appeared.

“You all good? I don’t need Josephine and your Aunt Carlotta to put a root on me if something happen to you.”

She casually sipped her drink.

“Just fine. Goin to sleep in a few.”

“Oop. I’m sure ya’ll is.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “Don’t do that.”

Elijah’s footsteps sounded against the cold floor as he made his way to the fully stocked mini bar. Candy, liquor, crackers and gum stared back at him. He glanced over in the woman’s direction but remained silent. The lighting from the tv warmed Annie’s cheeks or maybe it was him. Or maybe it was the liquor but he didn’t miss it.

“You want somethin’ to drink?” The cork popped.

“Yea.” She whispered it so softly that he would’ve missed it if he still hadn’t been watching her. The conversation continued and flowed naturally. Small talk like how many siblings they each had, their careers, and their parents. What was missing from the conversation was the small but very important fact that Elijah was familiar with New Orleans and that he owned several gas stations there.

“ I still can’t imagine two of you.” She shook her in disbelief before taking a sip of water. The pre rolled cigarette on the coffee table stared back at him. “What you mean? You sayin’ it like it’s a bad thing.

She shrugged. “It might be.”

Elijah shifted the conversation and his body closer to her, his leg rubbing against hers.

“You enjoying ya vacation?” He pried but it was sincere. He truly wanted to know everything, down to what she had for lunch this afternoon back at her hotel.

His back muscles flexed as he reached for the wine glasses to pour them a second round. Annie readjusted herself on the couch, the belt of her robe slightly loosening. “I am. Hope it stay dat’ way.”

“It will.” He promised.

The hotel couch dipped under his weight when he moved impossibly closer to the semi tired but very tipsy woman. Their knees made contact that neither of them shyed away from. Now that he was up close and could smell every layered product on her sable skin, Smoke continued to stare shamelessly. Annie was fidgety, her hands playing with the seams of her robe. He saw it. “You ready for bed?”

Annie nodded in response and before she could make it to her feet, Smoke was in front of her to steady her once again.

“I’m a big girl, Smoke. I can manage.” There was no real force behind the chiding remark, just Annie trying to retain some of her stubourness. But….Smoke was built for it.

“I ain’t say that you couldn’t.” His large palm sat comfortably on her lower back as he guided them through the short hallway to the separate bedroom. The large suite welcomed them in and it sighed in unison with Annie as she climbed into bed and got underneath the large duvet. She would never admit it but Elijah was right- she was tired and it was freezing due to the air conditioner. Smoke circled to Annie’s newfound side of the bed and handed her a plastic bottle and a raised eyebrow.

“You should drink some more water.” It wasn’t a request. The woman sighed and if she hadn’t been so dizzy, she would’ve had a rebuttal. “Smoke, just and come lie down. Please.” Her voice carried a raspiness that wasn’t present earlier. Elijah noted it; he was learning her already.

After double checking that the main door was latched, Smoke walked back into the room and slipped under the covers.

In an instant, Annie is pulled flesh against him, his warm bare chest rested against her back. A large arm snaked up and around the woman’s midsection and settled right under her boobs.

“You soft all ova’, woman.” Elijah grumbled as his chin rested on top of her head.

Annie simply scooted further back into the man, goading a restrained inhale from him.

The hard outline of him rested comfortably against her full cheeks that was barely covered by Elijah’s old stretched out shirt.

A pit in her stomach formed as that familiar tingle started to build. Underneath the tiredness, her body still called out to him. Smoke felt it but he couldn’t have her like this. Not for their first time.

But still, Annie’s palm reached behind her looking for purchase on Smoke’s lower body. Her cool smaller fingers rested against his happy trail and Elijah inhaled. His dick was so hard that it hurts.

He drew circles on her hips.

“I can’t have ya like this.” He murmured.

Her doe eyes immediately shot open into the dark room. Smoke didn’t give her a chance to respond before he continued.

“I can’t take ya like this because I need them pretty eyes and full focus on me when I break ya.”

Annie shivered at the taunt, her thighs rubbing against each other.

“Smoke…” it was a plea, warning, and declaration all at once but Elijah only shushed her.

An almost bratty huff escaped Annie’s lips but he refused to fold. If anything, he was amused.

“You gon’ learn soon enough that ain’t gon’ work on me.” Smoke pressed a kiss right under her ear as Annie sent a mockingly “whateva” over her shoulder.

He needed her. Every stitch of her deep skin but it couldn’t happen like this. Not when she’s tipsy and hadn’t even kissed either of her lips yet. A few mere minutes later, he heard light snores coming from Annie and he shortly followed suit.

5:36am.

Annie stirred awake to find Smoke’s forearm wrapped tightly around her throat in a snug bear hug. Every muscle in her body was taut and tired, the long travel day and liquor finally catching up with her.

And now….she needed to pee.

“Shit.” She tried to kick the duvet off of her body but Elijah caught it. Unbeknownst to her, he had been wide awake for an hour watching her sleep. Annie’s brow furrowed. “Need to use the bathroom, ‘Lijah.”

Reluctantly with a hum, he released her only to observe her every move from the bed to the bathroom.

Her cellphone unlocked to several unseen text messages, mostly from Kym and even one of coworkers from back home.

Kym: 👀

Kym: I know that thing opened and stretched now. Lord.

Kym: Be safe. We love you.

Tisha: We doing brunch at noon. Lmk if you gon make it.

Gigi (Work): I hope you having some funnn. 😁

Annie’s stomach twisted and gurgled on the toilet as a queasy feeling pained her.

She was going to be there for a bit longer than expected because the alcohol and food from the block party was coming out now. The large showerhead began a steady stream above her fingers. It was hot, just as she liked. The hotel’s bodywash was great, some might’ve said one of the best. But still… it wasn’t hers. None of it was. She quickly washed off in the shower and then made her towards the countertop. It only took her two seconds to slip out of the bathroom to grab her sandals near the door and slip right back into the large bathroom. Seconds later, Elijah slid the barnyard style bathroom door open and walked in to a fully nude Annie but neither of them cared. Most women would’ve stepped back or instinctively attempted to hide some part of them but not Annie. Domesticity filled the air.

Smoke stood a few feet away. “You tryna leave or somethin’?”

Annie stared back at him through the mirror. “You don’t miss nothin’, do you?”

He shrugged. “Nah.”

“I gotta go. We goin’ to brunch.”

“You sure?.” He completed a full circle around her before tugging her chin up to his.

The feeling in her belly returned again like a tightly wrapped cord that threatened to snap at any moment. Under low lashes, he sealed their lips together in a kiss and deepened it at the sound of Annie’s small moan. Their tongues wrestling for dominance. His last bit of resolve disappeared and underneath it was the man who patiently laid next to her all night with a stiff dick and a forming obsession.

He gently turned Annie’s body and slowly backed her into the bedroom until they reached the unmade disshelved bed.

A hand dragged to knead one of her breasts as she stood sagged against him then it landed to settle right on top of her fat mound. He already felt her slick but he still needed reassurance. He asked in between kisses to her scented neck. “You sure this whatchu’ want?”

Annie simply widened her thighs in response and eased her neck to the side to grant him better access to both of her most sensitive areas.

With one pause, he hummed as he brought this thumb to his mouth before pressing the woman’s nub. Her hips buckled in response and Elijah flashed that small smile that Annie began to notice that it may only be for her.

He whispered. “Yeah, you gon’ stay here and give it.” That was the only verbal acknowledgement she received before he had her on her back with a pillow under her back, knees wide and legs splayed open for him. Just a few ments ago under the warm lights in the bathroom, her nude body was on full display for him to see and she didn’t mind then but now? It was different. The hunger and glint in Elijah’s eyes was too much to bare.

So she did the first thing that came to mind but Elijah anticipated it. When the woman tried to bring her knees together, Smoke firmly and almost painfully- caught her wrist with an almost inhumane reflex. “Don’t do that.”

“Eli-“ She attempted to thrash in place in defiance but his large unoccupied hand grabbed one of her ankles right under her gold anklet.

He smirked. “I told you last night you not gon’ get your way with me like that.”

The feral look in his eyes showed that he intended to make good on his promise and Annie knew it.

Still, she tried to reason. “Elijah-.”

Soft kisses against her calf shushed her while she stared at his ministrations. Annie’s mouth opened again as if she was going to speak up again but she quickly closed it shut when she fully met his eyes that were boring into her, studying her every move. Again. Just as he’d done all morning as if watching her was his favorite pastime.

When Annie quieted down and opted to simply look at him, he sighed in satisfaction. “You so pretty. You know that?” He whispered in between kisses to her other leg. She brought her free foot to graze along and sit right on top of his dick.

A deep exhale escaped him. “What you tryna do to me, woman?”

Annie feigned innocence. “Nothin’.”

He responded by locking his arms under her thighs to bring her to the edge of the king sized bed. Annie yelped and giggled.

He loved the sound of it. Could get used to it.

“Elijah. Wait.” She struggled to get the feathered pillow back under her and he witnessed it. Smoke grabbed it from her struggled grasp, fluffed it, and slid it back underneath her. Before she could say anything else, he got down on his knees to position himself face first with Annie’s hardened, puffy clit that was trying to hide underneath her fat lips. He was practically salivating.

“Mmm hmm.” He hummed more to himself than her, his thick thumb pressing her button. Her body immediately jolted in response and Smoke took that as his cue to continue. He rubbed her clit in soft rhythmic motions, gauging her responses. When her thighs opened a bit wider affording him better access, a prideful smile decorated his face. His free hand came up to twist her sensitive nipples and soon after, he stuck an entire digit in and paused when she hissed.

“Shiiiieetttt.” The woman gritted through her teeth.

“Just relaxxxx. Lemme in my pussy, mama.” It was barely audible but she heard him.

His? If she wasn’t busy listening to the sounds of her own slick right now, she would’ve told him that it wasn’t his. Yet.

When her pussy opened up for him a little bit more, he eased in another thick finger.

Annie’s light moans filled the air as she began moving her hips in rhythmic sync with his movements to ride his fingers.

“That’s it.” He goaded her on and she welcomed it. She sighed in defeat when she felt the assault of his warm mouth on her. “Ohhh fuck.”

Her smaller hand came up to try to push him away and close her thighs on his head but Smoke grabbed it and interlocked the fingers. “Keep that hand right hea’ and you bet not move it.” He taunted.

Her cream spilled over to the mattress under her and Elijah flattened his tongue and dragged it to lap them up. The woman moaned a little louder when she peered at him under low lashes only to find him looking right back at her with a soaking wet face of her juices.

She was sweet to the taste just as he thought she’d be and he wanted more of her. All of her.

Smoke settled himself in between her thighs then crashed his drenched mouth into hers. His stiff dick settled right on top of her mound, precum mixing with her cream. Annie relaxed into the overpowering kiss and brought her arms to encircle his neck.

Elijah peppered and trailed damp kisses along her jaw all the way down to her neck, stopping at her full breasts to nip and bite. Her deep skin darkened in angry retaliation.

She impatiently tugged at his navy blue sweatpants but he simply and purposely stilled his own movements. His eyes trailed down to where their bodies joined and where her hand rested. Smoke didn’t have to say anything before her hand quickly retreated.

“That’s a good girl.” His praise landed exactly where intended when Annie whined response. She was needy but so was he. The small gasps and moans coming from her cracked him open.

Elijah lifted himself from between her legs and used one arm to reach for the drawer of the nightstand to pretend to grab a condom but he had no intent on wearing it. Annie locked her viscous legs around his waist and brought him back down to her. “Come onnnnnn.”

That’s exactly what he wanted to hear.

He rubbed his thick dick against her swollen clit in circular motions for a few seconds before lining it up with her slippery entrance and pushing it in as a gasp tore from Annie’s throat.

She was tight, almost uncomfortably so. She gripped him too good.

The involuntary spasms of her pelvic floor was already milking him and he wasn’t sure how long he was gonna make it though. He looked down to find Annie’s pupils completely blown out as her titties moved with every stroke. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead though the air conditioner was still on.

“Watch this.” He slipped out of her with a noisy squelch and maneuvered her body to his liking as if she was a ragdoll.

Her white painted toes gripped the hardwood floor and she was bent over the bed on all fours.

“Fuck.” She moaned into the pillow when he easily nuzzled back inside of her.

His kept a steady pace for the first few strokes then he began searching for her soul. Her swollen pussy wrapped around him tightly as the pressure built.

She was close but she tried to fight it and him. Her moans transitioned to gasping cries as her hand reached back for him.

“It’s only gon’ get worse for you if I gotta repeat myself ‘bout that hand.” He warned with a stinging slap to her ass.

That was all she needed.

Her release came out in multiple short repeated squirts. And when she tried to crawl away to the other side of the mattress, Smoke followed her to force them down into collapse doggy.

He couldn’t hold out much longer.

“I need anotha’ one outta you. I earned it.” His large hand reached under both of their bodies in search of her clit. She was still clamping sporadically around him so he knew that with the right touch and pressure, she’d crack again. And that she did. “Elijahhhhh.” Her hot tears spilled into the pillow and Smoke stretched his tongue out to lick them away. The grind of his hips turned into rhythmic pumps and broken grunts left his mouth. She felt him pulsing inside of her.

“Ima fill you up good and make sure you go and tell all your lil’ friends.” He said through gritted teeth.

Annie was so blitzed out that she could only agree.

“I will! Ima tell ‘em.” She nodded. His warm seed spilled inside of her as they both shuttered.

—————————————————————

For an hour, they lay together sated with Annie’s cheek on his chest, while Smoke gripped then soothingly caressed her lower back. She had a glow that had nothing to with the pending sunrise.

Brown pools captured hers.

“You stayin?” He whispered.

She sighed and swung her leg over his and nestled even closer. “Yes…I guess so.”

“Good.” A large hand collided with her ass, forcing Annie to send a mock glare his way though it held no weight. Somehow her cellphone ended up on the floor near the side of the large bed and when it rang, it startled them both. His eyes locked in on her screen.

Mama 👑

The woman immediately sat up against the cool headboard as if her mom could see her now then sighed. She hadn’t even noticed that Elijah had left the bed until the sound of the shower started up. With a click, she answered her mother’s call. Ms. Josephine started to speak and question Annie before she even had the chance to say hello.

“What you and the girls doin’? Ya’ll eat ya’ll some breakfast yet?”

Maybe Tisha and Kym did have breakfast by now. Who knows?

She looked around the large suite hoping to focus on something else and that’s when the room service menu caught her attention. “We did. It was real good too.” Ok… she wasn’t lying technically.

She in fact would be eating some good food as soon as she decided on an entree. The two women talked about the flight experience, the traffic, and whatever other random thought that came to mind.

From the sound of it, Smoke had transitioned from the shower to the sink to brush his teeth. Annie’s phone buzzed in her hand again as soon as her mom hung up. She was a busy woman.

Kym: We missing you. 💔

Annie: Morning. Miss you. 🤎

Elijah treaded back into the suite, shirtless with a pair of black sweatpants on his hips. His slighty hard dick making itself known and he wanted to make sure that she knew it, too. He bent down to plant a kiss on her forehead.

“I’m finna’ go work out. Order whatever you want and don’t be on no shy shit. I’ll be back to ya’ in a bit.”

Another kiss landed on her lips before she could respond and he quickly slipped out of the door. Annie yawned and stretched her legs under the covers as she brought her exhausted body to lay on Smoke’s warm side of the bed.

She did miss her girls, too.

Twenty minutes later, she was tracking her Uber’s arrival and sliding her feet into her sandals with a newly acquired soreness forcing her to move slower than usual.

The elevator dinged open to the eighth floor overlooking CopaCabana beach. He thought this was his favorite view in Brazil but that was before he met her.

The weights clanked when he grabbed them and walked over to the mirror. Little he did he know that the woman whom he thought was still laid out in his bed with shaky legs had actually just left the hotel in an Uber. She texted him from the backseat of the car, her body rocking side to side as the car moved along a steep curve.

Annie: Ima call you later. 💙

🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷

A/N: Thank you for readingggg. 💛

This video is what Monday night Pedra Do Sol is. (Not my vid.)

Well…. 😭😭😭

How we feeling???

Annie sat up. Reached for her robe off the bedpost.

The house had its morning sounds — birds off the back property, the faint tick of the pipes settling. Normal sounds. Her sounds. Except for the study door, closed at the end of the hall when she stepped out, the line of light beneath it already gone.

He was up. Already.

She stood there a moment longer than she needed to.

Then she went downstairs and put the kettle on.

She didn't go to him. That was the thing she decided in the space between filling the kettle and setting it on the flame. She wasn't going to go to him. She wasn't going to knock on that door, wasn't going to be the one to smooth it over, to make herself small enough to fit back into his good graces before she'd even had her tea.

She'd said a true thing.

He could come to her.

But by the time the kettle whistled and she'd poured her cup and stood at the kitchen window long enough for the steam to thin, she heard his footsteps on the stairs. Steady. Even. Like nothing had happened.

Like nothing had happened.

He appeared in the kitchen doorway dressed for the day — shirt pressed, collar buttoned, shoes already on — and Annie wrapped both hands around her mug and looked at him.

"Morning," he said.

"Morning."

He moved to the stove like it was any other day. Poured his own coffee. She watched him do it — the economy of it, how he took up space without asking for it, how he was already so thoroughly himself while she was still half-assembled.

"You eat?" he asked.

"Not yet."

He nodded. Leaned against the counter across from her, cup in hand, and looked at her with that particular expression he had — patient, contained, like he was waiting for her to catch up to something he'd already sorted through in the night.

It made her want to throw her mug at him.

"You slept alright?" she asked instead, and she heard the edge in it even as it left her mouth.

Something moved behind his eyes. "Fine."

"Good." She turned back to the window. "That's good."

The silence stretched between them — not comfortable, not exactly hostile. Just there. Full of last night and everything that hadn't been resolved and his footsteps going down the hall and the study door closing and her standing alone by the vanity realizing she felt guilty for something that had been the truth.

She heard him set his cup down.

"Annie."

"I ain’t apologizing," she said. She didn't turn around.

A pause.

"Didn't ask you to."

She turned then. He was looking at her steadily, and there was nothing in his face she could argue with — no anger, no wounded pride dressed up as calm. Just him. Looking at her like she was the only thing in the room worth looking at, like he could stand here all morning if that's what it took.

"You didn't come to bed," she said.

"No."

"Because I said the truth."

His jaw shifted. "Because you needed space."

"I needed—" She stopped. Let out a breath. "I needed to not feel like a prisoner in my own house, Elijah."

"You ain't a prisoner."

"I know what I said."

"So do I." His voice was quiet. Level. "And I heard you."

That landed differently than she expected. She waited for the rest of it — the correction, the reframing, the gentle redirection that always came dressed as understanding. But he just stood there, cup on the counter, watching her.

"You heard me," she repeated.

"I heard you." He picked up his cup again. Finished the last of his coffee. Set it in the sink. "I got some business to handle this morning. Be back before noon."

And that was it.

He pressed a kiss to her temple on the way past — brief, certain, like punctuation — and then he was gone. She heard the front door, the particular sound of it closing behind him. Not slammed. Just shut.

Annie stood in the kitchen, mug in both hands, and tried to decide if being heard was the same thing as being understood.