Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Reader telling Erik "I wanna have your baby please."
Erik fucking the Reader in the mirror and telling her, "Where you going? Take this dick!"
Erik secretly buying his girl stuff from her wishlist
The reader face-riding Erik and Erik holding the reader’s hips down and overstimulating her/ Erik telling the reader “lemme dig in that pussy one time”
Erik making eye contact with the reader while fingering her on his lap and the reader can’t take it
Erik being all soft and comforting to the reader while on a flight. She’s afraid of heights.
Erik begging plus size reader to sit that phat pussy on his face while he talks all nasty about her generous curves.
Reader avoiding Erik because he got rough with her after play fighting/having intense rough sex.
Reader attempting to break up with Erik.
Reader being intimate with Erik for the first time after being in an abusive relationship.
Reader playing hard to get with Erik.
Erik is the student and reader is the professor.
Erik giving his daughter the talk about her first period because her mom (reader) is away on a business trip
Erik’s groomsmen are panicking because his fiancé is at the door when the room is full of strippers
Reader working in retail dealing with a rude customer and Erik is a regular who steps in to put the customer in their place.
Readers long time crush, Erik Stevens, knocks on her door dressed as a pizza delivery stripper and he doesn’t realize he has the wrong address until it’s too late.
Thigh riding Erik.
Erik shaves the Reader.
Erik telling you how pretty that pussy is.
Erik helping the reader with morning sickness.
Erik getting the readers hair wet after she spent all day in the salon getting it done and she flips out on him.
Reader riding the fuck out of Erik’s dick.
Erik and Reader having a one night stand that WASN’T supposed to happen.
Erik being the reader’s bully when they were kids but that changed when he sees her in later years.
Erik and reader having sex for the first time since their baby
Erik and reader broke down in the middle of nowhere
The reader finding out she is pregnant so she tries to leave but Erik finds out anyway.
Erik finding out that T’Challa or M’baku being the readers first.
Drive in movie date with Erik.
Erik walking in on the reader masturbating and she tries to cover herself with embarrassment
The reader is nervous to bring Erik to meet her family because she takes care of her mom and a sibling with special needs.
Y/N having her cochlear implants turned on and hearing Erik’s voice for the first time.
Erik is a sub and Reader is a dom PART ONE
Erik is a sub and Reader is a dom PART TWO
Erik dating a girl with an old soul.
Reader saying in the middle of an argument, “I mean, look at me! why would Erik Stevens want to be with me?!”
Fun/humor sex with Erik.
Erik Jill Scott Imagine
The reader is a best selling author and her book is about all her past lovers (Erik is one of them)
The Reader is a virgin and Erik gives her oral turning her out/Erik dry humping The Reader playfully
Erik and Reader are best friends and Reader is the best freaky love PART ONE
Erik and Reader are best friends and Reader is the best freaky love PART TWO
Erik cuddling with Reader while she is on her period/having sex with Reader while she is on her period.
Reader is a high school art teacher and she is fucking Mr. Killmonger who is a history teacher.
Reader and Erik’s honeymoon.
M’Baku and Erik have the pleasure of sharing a woman
Reader and Erik take a bae-cation after Reader has her baby. She is having breast pains from breastfeeding so Erik suggests soothing her.
Erik nurturing reader after she found a lump in her breast.
Erik and his girl have a threesome with OC
The Reader and Erik’s friends are trying to set them both up on a blind date but the catch is…they’re already dating.
Erik and Reader have a 16 year old daughter who starts being disrespectful towards them PART ONE
Erik and Reader have a 16 year old daughter who starts being disrespectful towards them PART TWO
Erik and Reader haven't had sex in a while because of Reader's insecurities
Erik is into a lot of verbal talk during sex but his girl is too shy and embarrassed to do it so she moans instead.
Erik and Reader are in a Dom/Sub relationship where everyone knows, the Reader is being bratty and Erik punishes her in front of their friends but Reader has a Voyeurism kink and that was her plan.
Erik always rubbing the readers belly, because she loves it more than she does.
Erik asking plus size Reader out on a date for the first time.
Erik calls Reader while she's at work and he hears one of her male coworkers in the background.
Dominant Erik sees his ex gf at a pool party
Erik teaching his daughter to love her dark skin.
How would Erik react to his girl twerking in front of his face to annoy him ?
It's Erik's birthday and his girl suprises him
Assassin Erik and his girl London make up for lost time
Massage Therapist Erik
Supermarket run with the kids and a guy starts talking to you and making you laugh. Your husband, Erik, finds out about it.
Erik reminiscing on the time he had some good wet pussy from a plus size baddie. Based off of Cardi B saying how fat girls have the best pussy.
Erik walks in on his homeboys sister stepping out of the shower and she is embarrassed/ has a huge crush on him PART ONE
Erik walks in on his homeboys sister stepping out of the shower and she is embarrassed/ has a huge crush on him PART TWO
Erik convinces his girl he can make her cum multiple times ONE
Erik convinces his girl he can make her cum multiple times TWO
Erik has a foot fetish
Erik's girl gets drunk and starts flirting with other men. Erik has to teach her a lesson
Erik deep-throating his girl
OC is shy and a virgin and Erik makes her his sub
The Reader is nervous to tell Erik she is bi ONE
The Reader is nervous to tell Erik she is bi TWO
Erik and his polynesian/black bestie take things to another level
Erik watches his landlords child and afterwards wants to practice making a little bundle of joy himrself with Reader
Erik has a new girl who has a baby prior to dating him and they become one big happy family.
Erik is uncircumcised and it’s the Readers first time being with a man who is uncircumcised. Erik shows her what to do/ how to please him.
pairing: boyfriend!cameron cade x black!fem!reader
synopsis: after Cameron Cade returns from a week of “training” with Isaiah White, you immediately sense something is wrong as he steps through the door.
warnings MDNI: smut, some angst, psychological distress, trauma implications, aligns with the plot of ‘HIM (2025)’, dark romance undertones, possessiveness, swearing, dom!cam, dirty talk, fingering, oral (f!receiving), he be talking you through ittt 😛
a/n: hi babies!! this is my first time writing smut on tumblr so im def open for some constructive criticism. hope you all enjoy it!
you hear the door unlock before you see him.
for seven days straight, you’ve been checking your phone constantly — waiting for even one text. Cameron swore he’d call after his first night at Isaiah White’s training camp (or whatever the fuck it was), but the only updates you saw were those sterile team posts:
“CAMERON CADE — LOCKED IN WITH HIS EYES ON THE PRIZE.”
there was nothing from him. not even a “good morning.”
part of you wanted to be upset, but all of it vanished when he finally steps inside; you freeze.
he looks bigger. shoulders tense, jaw clenched, eyes sharp like he hadn’t slept and had been running on nothing but fumes and discipline alone.
he sets his bag down.
doesn’t say your name.
doesn’t greet you at the door.
he just stands there, his gaze stuck to his shoes meeting the familiar ‘Welcome’ mat.
“Cam?” you whisper.
his head snaps up — too fast, his gaze hitting you like a spotlight. And for a second, he looks like he’s trying to place you. not because he’s forgotten who you were, but because of the realization of his forgotten softness.
he exhales — long and heavy — before stepping inside.
“…hey,” he mutters, voice low, almost unrecognizable. “I’m home.”
the tone is… off. cold and guarded, it startles you.
you move to hug him, and he freezes, but as your arms wrap around his torso, it hits him.
you hit him. and everything inside him unravels all at once.
he doesn’t need to be on guard anymore. he doesn’t need to have the weight of violence and death on his shoulders. he just needs you.
“damn. I missed you.” he mumbles, taking in your scent, his hold on you comforting, yet possessive; almost predatory.
you frown at his confession as you feel the tension coil through him. “baby.. what happened?”
his grip hardens instantly. “don’t,” he says, not raised, but final. “I’m not talking about that.”
“Cameron, you were gone—”
“you think I don’t know that?” his jaw flexes, eyes flashing with something dark. “I don’t wanna talk about that shit.”
he pulls back just enough to look at you — eyes shadowed, unreadable, something sharp flickering behind them. not at you, but at the memory. at the week he refuses to drag into the room with you.
then his hand slides to your waist, fingers curling in a way that’s both tender and possessive.
“I’m home,” he says quietly. “so stop askin’ me about someplace I’m done with.”
you swallow. “so you really not gon’ tell me anything?”
“no.” his voice is a low promise. “what happened there ain’t for you to carry.”
the way he says it makes your skin prickle — protective, yet territorial; guarding you from something he doesn’t trust himself to explain.
and for some odd reason, it turns you on.
“Cam—”
he steps forward, forcing your back gently against the wall, crowding your space, eyes locked on yours.
“I’m serious,” he whispers. “let it go.”
his thumb traces your jaw, slow, almost reverent.
“but you?” he breathes with a smirk, leaning in until his lips brush the curve of your cheek, “I’m glad you’re mine to come back to. I’m not lettin’ you go.”
“…I missed you,” he continues, voice dipping darker, “in ways I ain’t even proud of.”
his forehead rests against yours, heavy with need. “whole damn week, you were the only thing keepin’ me from losin’ it.”
his finger trails down your throat possessively as he wraps his fingers around your neck.
“you wanna know the truth?” he murmurs, mouth dangerously close, “if they kept me one more day, I would’ve killed everyone and walked away from all of it. for you.”
his lips hover over yours, breath slow, controlled… barely.
“you’re not going anywhere,” his voice a gravelly order. “not tonight. not after the week I’ve had.”
his lips crash into yours, immediately stealing your breath and making your knees soften, making him smirk against your lips.
he groans into the kiss and presses his body against yours. “you missed me, baby?” he whispers, breaking the kiss.
his thumb drags slowly across your lower lip, tracing it like he’s memorizing the shape all over again. the touch is gentle, but the look in his eyes isn’t. it’s focused, hungry, reverent in a way that borders on obsession.
you open your mouth to respond, but his thumb stills on your lips.
“nah, I don’t wanna hear it. I wanna see it.”
his hand slides from your throat to your hip, his grip firm, anchoring you.
“did you even think about touching yourself while i was gone? or did you wait for me?”
you gasp as his fingers push against your entrance. his hand deep in your panties.
his voice drops to a whisper, almost reverent. “fuck…look at how wet you are.” his fingers press deeper, a reward and a punishment. “my good girl.”
his lips on your neck match the pace of his fingers moving inside of you — hot, slow, purposeful — his other hand reaching for one of your thighs and pulling it up to his waist, his fingers curling impossibly deeper inside of you.
his breath hitches against your neck, his rhythm faltering for just a second as he feels how perfectly you take him in.
“every time I thought about you this week, I imagined this. how you feel. how you sound.”
his thumb finds your clit, applying a slow deliberate pressure that makes you arch against the wall. “tell me you imagined this too. my fingers fucking you like this, hm? not yours. never yours.”
he increased the pace of his fingers, a sharp contrast to his soft words. and while the curl of his fingers was enough to make you see stars, the low familiar voice in your ear sent you over the edge.
his voice is a low murmur right against your ear, the words vibrating through you.
“cmon on, baby. come for me. only for me.”
the world narrows to the heat of his body, the scent of his skin, the relentless pressure of his fingers. every coherent thought shatters.
it’s too much and not enough all at once, a dizzying spiral that starts deep in your core and threatens to pull you completely apart.
the only thing holding you together is the sound of his voice, a familiar anchor in the overwhelming sensation.
his name is a broken prayer on your lips as you come, your body convulsing against his hand.
he doesn't stop, drawing out your climax until you're trembling and oversensitive, his touch becoming almost cruel in its gentleness.
“yeahhh, that right there, baby. that shit is mine.”
as the aftershocks still ripple through you, he slowly withdraws his fingers. his touch is almost clinical now, a stark contrast to the intimacy of a moment ago.
he brings his wet fingers to his lips, his eyes locked on yours as he tastes you. “ ‘s pussy tastes so good… I want some more. you gon give it to me?”
you nod, your voice catching in your throat. “mhm..” it’s all you can manage. the word feels too small for the surrender he's asking for.
then he smiles, nice and slow. his hands slide from your hips to the backs of your thighs, pushing them apart with an unnerving calm. “now keep still for me.”
he doesn't wait for another response. his mouth is on you, and it's not gentle. it’s claiming, desperate, like he's trying to consume the very memory of the week apart.
the sensation is immediate and overwhelming — a sharp, wet heat that makes you gasp and your fingers scramble against the wall for purchase.
he groans against you, the vibration shooting straight to your core, and you realize this isn't just about pleasure. It's an inspection. a reconfirmation of his ownership.
his tongue is relentless, a flat, wet pressure that circles your clit with a precision that feels like it was practiced in his mind all week. it’s too much, too soon after your first climax, a fresh wave of sensation that borders on pain.
you should push him away. this isn’t the Cam who used to worship you slowly, who’d check in with whispered “you okay?”s and sweet nothings to coax you towards your orgasm. but your hands just fist in his hair, holding him closer.
the contradiction is terrifying. Your body arches off the wall, a silent plea for more even as your mind screams a warning. this is different. he’s different.
and as you look down at him, you see the difference.
‘You don’t look like Him.’ you thought.
he’s an entirely different person right now, and the worst part? you like it. you like the sharp edge in his devotion, the way his possessiveness feels less like a cage and more like a claim.
a broken sob escapes you, part pleasure, part fear, wholly his.
he pulls back just enough to look up at you, his lips glistening, his breathing ragged.
“see? I knew it. you don’t need that gentle shit. was worried you wouldn’t fuck with it...”
he presses a sloppy kiss on your clit.
“but I should’ve known better. you’ll take anything I give you.”
his words hit you with the force of a physical blow, confirming your deepest fear and your darkest desire in one breath.
you can't form words, only a high, thin whine that seems to encourage him once his mouth latches onto you again. his hands dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, holding you open, ensuring you can't escape as he swallows every drop of your orgasm.
he rises to his feet, his chest still heaving and looks down at you, slumped and trembling against the wall, and something in his expression softens for a fraction of a second.
his thumb brushes a stray tear from your cheek.
“a week.” his voice is hoarse. “a whole fucking week without hearing you.”
he leans his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as if the memory is physically painful.
“do you have any idea what that did to me?”
He leans his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. “they took my phone. I almost lost my damn mind.”
you waste no time pulling him into another hug, the embrace full of vulnerability and honesty. your voice barely a whisper.
“I’m right here, Cameron. I’m not going anywhere.”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Summary: He's supposed to be laying low. A job overseas went bloody, and Erik Stevens-Black Ops Mercenary, Ghost of the U.S. Government-needs to go quiet. He crashes at his little sister's place near Howard University in Chocolate City. But when he arrives, there's a surprise: she's got a roommate. Her Best Friend. She's grown since he last saw her. Grown in all the ways that test a man's self control. But Erik? He's never been good at following the rules...
Warnings: Age Gap Romance/ Forbidden Attraction/ Explicit Sexual Content (strong smut, oral sex, size kink, erotic praise, power exchange)/Slow Burn to Filthy/Obsession & Possessiveness/Sexual Tension in Shared Spaces/Mutual Voyeurism/Sexting/Emotional Denial/Resistance/Breeding Talk/Male Dom / Female Sub Dynamic
Part Seven
Erik sucked his teeth, sat up a little more, thighs tensing beneath her hands. He looked down at her with her messy hair, and need all over her face and reached out to grab her jaw with one hand, thumb sliding across her lips.
“You wanna ride me?”
Sanaa nodded, lips parting around his thumb. She sucked it slow with her eyes locked on his.
Erik let out a low breath, nostrils flaring. His dick twitched hard in her hand. “Aight then,” he said. “Get up here.”
The way he said it wasn’t a request. Sanaa didn’t hesitate. She threw her leg over and straddled him, hands planted on his chest for balance. Erik leaned back on his elbows, watching her like a man possessed, eyes dragging from the sway of her hips to the heavy breath in her chest. He reached down, wrapped that big hand around his dick, and held it steady, thick and gleaming, the tip pulsing.
“Come get it.” He said with a low rasp.
Sanaa lifted just right, body knowing what to do like this wasn’t her first time begging for it. She lined herself up with the head, hips hovering, teasing his tip with slick little circles. Just working it in slowly, letting that first stretch send a shiver through both of them. Sanaa moaned airy and breathless, rolling her hips while Erik was only halfway inside. Erik’s head tipped back, jaw tight, watching her get herself ready for the full thing.
Then, she sank.
Her breath caught as she sank down, thighs trembling while his dick pushed up through that tight, sloppy grip. Sanaa couldn’t help the way her mouth fell open, tongue peeking out against her top lip, eyes half-closed like she was somewhere between begging and backing out. She lifted, rolled her hips again, and slipped out with a slick sound that made her flinch.
“Come on, ma,” Erik whispered, voice low and gritty, his hips flexing up. “Put that shit back in. Don’t play.”
Sanaa reached behind her, fingers wet as she guided him back. His tip slipped past her folds, thick and glistening, dragging slick through her creamy pussy before sliding home again. Her back bowed, belly tensed, she took it inch by inch, breathing sharp through her nose like she was bracing for a stretch that hit deep every single time. Sanaa’s body paused like it was stunned by the depth, a little tremble shaking through her frame. But then, she started moving.
“There you go,” Erik said, voice like gravel on velvet. “Keep that arch for me. Just like that. Let me open this lil’ pussy up.”
She rode him like she was made for it.
Slow motion. Rolling her hips, arching her back, catching that stroke right where it made her eyes flutter and her breath skip. Her ass popped on the up stroke, then clapped softly when she dropped back down, thick and perfect against his thighs. Every grind pulled a sound out of Erik, deep in his throat. Low curses. Grunts. Praise.
Sanaa leaned forward, hands planted on his chest, his keloid scars slick beneath her palms. His pecs flexed under her touch like he was holding back from grabbing her and flipping the whole thing.
Sanaa whimpered sweet and buried like she was tryna swallow it down. Her knees dug into the mattress, feet braced over his thighs, ass lifting just enough to let him drive up harder. Erik didn’t even need to thrust far. He had her right where he wanted her. Just enough space for that big dick to pull back, then stroke up slow, deep, and firm. No air between them. Just desire. A vice grip. The sound of his dick stirring through slick like a slow churn.
Sanaa rocked and rode and lost herself in it, pausing only to lean down and kiss him slow and nasty, tongue sliding deep, lips parted like she needed his mouth to survive the high she was chasing. Then, she sat back up, arching again, going back to the motion. Deeper.
The way she stared down at him? It was like she owned him. Sanaa bit down on her bottom lip harder, breathing ragged. Her body twitched when he spread her ass wider, one hand gripping a cheek, thumb resting where her back curved into the dip of her spine. The other hand slid between her thighs and tugged her folds open on one side, just enough to feel how fucking tight of a squeeze it is to fit his dick in her. Just enough to feel the way she swallowed him each time he came back in. The flesh of her tight hole gliding smooth over veins and a thick pole.
Erik…loved it. That thick dick throbbed inside her. The hand on her back slid up and down, gripping her waist, helping her pace.
“Good girllll,” Erik praised, his voice deep and ragged. “Just like that pretty girl. This why you been actin’ up?” Erik whispered. “This what you needed? You needed daddy to fuck you quiet like this?”
Sanaa’s head dropped, her breath catching in her throat. She nodded, still rocking soft but getting fucked harder than she meant to. Each time Erik asked her ‘this what you needed?’ The tempo increased. That dick curved up right into her, hitting that spot that made her legs shake and her face twist up. She didn’t mean to roll her hips like that or let the creamy mess between them get louder. It was as if her body didn’t belong to her anymore. An object to be fucked by Killmonger like it asked for.
And this wasn’t even his final form.
Erik’s palms slid over her ass and held her open while he kept stroking. Sanaa’s body jolted every time his tip kissed the back of her pussy. It felt like pressure and a tickle all at once. Slipping out, sliding back in. Circling on the up stroke, sliding out slowly on the down stroke. Cream clinging to him. Her walls tightening to keep him in. But Erik’s dick is so thick. Long. And her pussy couldn’t help but give him room.
It shocked her. Sanaa was a brilliant girl but it never crossed her mind that a dick that’s equal parts thick and long could open her pussy up like this. Penetrate her and make her pussy cream and flutter like it had its own heartbeat.
“I should keep you up all night doin’ this shit. Fuckin’ you ‘til that walk change.”
“Daddy—”
“Shhh. Shut the fuck up. The only talkin’ I wanna hear is this pussy.”
Erik pressed his lips to her temple. His hands made its way to her waist, holding her still. Steady. On that dick. His hips drove up with a slow torture, punishing strokes and heavy weight like he was tryna leave the shape of his dick in her forever.
“You tryna wake her up?” Erik warned with a threatening whisper. “You tryna let her know how nasty you been behind her back?”
“No—no, I’m not—”
“Then Shut that shit up and ride this dick like you supposed to.” Erik spoke rough in her ear. So low it sent shivers down her spine.
And she gave it to him. All of it.
Sanaa bit the corner of her lip again, trembling, eyes almost rolling up. His dick stroked through the grip of her pussy with steady weight, gliding smooth and tight, dragging against her walls. The sound was slick and wet, sticky and clinging, layered with the subtle knock of his heavy balls brushing her ass when he dropped her down just right. Sanaa’s toes curled against his thighs. Her belly fluttered. She could feel him in her gut. Sanaa dragged her nails down his pecs and tried to lift her hips a little but Erik is stronger.
“Feel all that up in you, huh?” Erik said. “That’s what you was fiendin’ for, baby? Fat dick pressin’ your stomach? Stretchin’ your shit out. Don’t you move, now.” His tone was taunting; teasing.
Erik’s hands slid down her waist, wide palms smoothing over the curve of her hips before gripping the underside of her ass. He let her work. Let her grind slow like she had all day. But he couldn’t stop himself from giving her something extra. After all, he’s extra.
Pop.
A gentle slap to her right cheek made her gasp and bounce a little harder. Then, he rubbed it, smoothed his hand over the sting.
“Yeah,” Erik said low, looking up at her like she was art. “That’s it, baby. Ride that shit.”
Sanaa was in another dimension. Dick drunk. Eyes low. Mouth slick and almost drooling, whispering nonsense that didn’t make full sense but still sounded sexy as hell. Sanaa’s hands went to fist the sheets. Her thighs spread over him. The stroke was making her dizzy. Erik slid both hands around her waist and pulled her flush against him, holding her in place while he started fucking up into her with slow, mean precision. Each thrust was full. The bed barely moved but the air between them thickened with sweat and secret moans and groans swallowing into the backs of throats.
Erik bent his knees, driving up from the base, hips angled just right so his whole length stroked through the grip of her pussy like he was molding her insides with every pass. Sanaa’s breath stuttered. Her mouth hung open. She tried to hold it in. Tried to be good. But that shit felt so fucking good.
“I—mmh—this dick feel so good,” she breathed, grinding with slow, wet rolls. “Might start crying on it…I’m not even playin’…”
Erik laughed but dropped off into a groan when she clenched on him mid-roll. Erik gave her left cheek a light slap, then grabbed it, pulling her down harder.
“Don’t play then.” Erik warned. “Go head and cry.”
Sanaa was in the zone. One hand drifted up his chest again, Palm gliding over his scars, fingertips teasing his nipple just to make him twitch. The other hand braced on his thigh behind her for balance.
“I could live on this dick.” She whispered with a shaky laugh, voice floaty.
“You already do.” Erik shot back.
But Sanaa didn’t hear him. Or maybe she did and ignored it. Sanaa’s eyes fluttered shut. Her hips paused at the base of his stroke. Then…
She started bucking.
No warning. No ease into it. She just popped her hips and that bubbly ass back and up, then dropped down on him with force. That wet clap echoed between them.
“Shhhit—” Erik grunted, jaw locked. He sat up fast, his hand flying to her waist to ground her, but she was already in the zone.
“Uh uh,” Sanaa panted, riding that dick like she had a point to prove. “Don’t stop me now, I’m on a mission, daddy.”
Erik’s hands tried to slow her, but every time he gripped her waist, Sanaa twisted and bounced harder. Her ass smacked against his thighs, wild and filthy, her head thrown back as she whimpered with a bite of her lip softly and moaned out his name with an airy breath like it was her favorite song.
“Sanaa—”
She reached up, palmed the back of his neck, and pulled his forehead to hers. “Loose control, daddy.” She breathed, voice wrecked but still taunting. “Come on. I want it.”
That was her plan the whole time. To ride him until he couldn’t think straight. To fuck him until his voice broke and he forgot every rule he made about control. And judging by the way his fingers dug into her flesh and those muscles flexed…
It was working.
Sanaa leaned her weight forward, kept that nasty dance, and added something new to it. Her hand—small, delicate, manicured fingers with her name on her gold necklace glinting between her tits—wrapped right around Erik’s throat. Just enough pressure to make his head tilt back and his eyes lock onto hers like she had him pinned in place. Like he belonged to her now.
And then she rode him.
From tip to base. Working every inch of that thick ass dick like it was hers to break in. Her body rolled in perfect time, ass popping up, then dropping back down to the back with a wet clap again and again. Sanaa stayed eye to eye with him the whole time.
Erik’s mouth fell open. A low, guttural sound came from his chest, his hands gripping her thighs like he was hanging on for dear life. His nostrils flared, his gold canines flashed as his top lip curled to fight the urge to groan so loud he wakes the whole building up. His whole body tensed underneath her like he was fighting the urge to flip her over and wreck her. But he didn’t. He let her have it. Let her take that power.
His expression was war. Tight jaw. Eyes dark and ablaze. Clenched abs. Fists flexing on her skin. Eyes damn near desperate. Breathing hard.
“Sanaa…” Erik grunted, voice all gravel and restraint. “Fuck, baby.”
Sanaa smiled. A slow, wicked, bratty smile. She rolled her hips in a circle while still sitting in him full. She was gon’ milk him good. Then, she leaned in close, mouth at his ear, whispering low, breathy, slick.
“What’s wrong, Killmonger?”
Erik twitched. His grip on her thighs got tighter. That name hit different coming from her mouth. Especially with her sitting on his fucking dick like that. Dripping and talking her shit.
“You supped to be the big bad soldier, huh?” She panted, riding again, faster now, breath hitching between words. “Don’t tell me I got you foldin’…”
Erik growled low in his throat. His eyes snapped to hers, wide, wild, hungry. “You wanna play like that?” He said, voice hoarse.
Sanaa kept bouncing. Let her hand tighten just a little more on his throat, thumb pressing under his jaw while her pussy clamped down and stroked him from base to tip like a goddamn vice. Like he was her personal toy. Her toy soldier.
“Mmhm,” she whispered. “Killmonger can’t take it…”
And that was it.
Erik’s hand shot up, yanked her wrist off his neck, and pinned it to the bed beside him. His other arm wrapped around her back, locking her down.
But Sanaa was still grinding. Still riding that big thing. Erik’s arms caged her in—thick, strong, immovable. Erik shifted under her, sitting up in one powerful motion, his chest pressed to hers, their breaths tangled. Sanaa barely had time to blink before his hands slid beneath her thighs, hooking her knees over his forearms, palming the underside of her ass with a grip that meant business.
Then he stood up. Taking back his power. Ain’t no way some lil’ girl was gonna grab him by the neck and ride his dick and talk shit in his ear like she in charge. Fuck that.
That big dick never slipped out once. Erik rose with her still fully seated on him, buried to the base, his muscles flexing all down his back and arms. Sanaa gasped, arm’s flailing for his shoulders before clutching tight. He made that shit look so effortless. Erik adjusted his hold, tightening his grip on her thighs, locking her in against his chest.
And then, he bounced her.
Not wild. Not frantic. But deep. Firm.
Erik dropped her down on that dick, letting the full weight of his body take him. His grip under her ass controlled every motion like she was a workout, a blessing, and a punishment all rolled into one. Her pussy opened for him every time, swallowing that big dick whole, her walls fluttering with every single drop like that pussy was talking to him, begging Killmonger to murder her shit.
Sanaa couldn’t catch a breath. Her body tensed and softened all at once—overwhelmed, overstimulated, taken. He was using her like she belonged in his arms getting fucked like this. She was made to be lifted and held and fucked. Her pretty head dropped back, those glossy lips parted, that tiny breath hitching. She had never been handled like this before. Ever. Then here comes this big, strong, soldier with scars and a lethal dick to rewrite everything the thought she knew about getting fucked.
“Erik—”
Sanaa moaned his name once, sweet and quiet. But it turned to something else. Something filthier. More desperate. Like her body knew what she needed before her mind caught up.
It spilled out of her in waves, soft, breathy, cracked around the edges. Her thighs trembled against his arms, her nails clawing at his back, and her pussy was dripping. Soaked and sucking him back in with every controlled thrust. When Sanaa caught their reflection, her eyes went round. Her small frame folded in the air around his big, muscled, scarred, tall body. She looked helpless, caged, locked.
She just raised his number to 2,208.
Pick yourself up Bri—oh, wait—you’re stuck in the air bitch how you gonna flip it on him again?
Damn, he all up in this pussy.
Why he fucking me like this?
Erik looked up at her face, lips swollen, hair clinging to her cheek, eyes fluttering with every drop. “You wanted it,” he said, low and steady, sweat beading on his neck. “Now take it.”
Then, he bounced her again, slow and punishing, that big thing pushing her to the brink.
All Sanaa could do was hang on. Fall apart. Moan his name. Her toes curled right in the air, ankles flexing with every drop. She was about to tap out. But that would make her look like a weak bitch. Her whole body tensed like a struck cord, arms wrapped tighter around Erik’s shoulders as she dropped her head to his neck. She pressed her nose into his skin, right where the warmth gathered, where his clean scent lived. Masculine mix of sweat, lotion, and something earthy that was just him. It made her dizzy.
Erik was in it. He was bouncing her just right on that thick dick. He switched it up. Started feeding her. Rolling his hips upward as she came down. Rocking into her slow and deep, hitting that spot every single time. The control he had over his body was insane. Like he had power running through his veins. Inhuman. He adjusted mid-thrust, tilting her hips, locking her tighter against him so her clit dragged across his pelvis just right.
She was unraveling from the inside out.
“…Killmonger…yes…baby…”
The name barely left her lips before Erik’s jaw clenched. He adjusted his stance, braced one foot back to keep his balance, then slammed her down deeper, held her there, let her feel all of it.
“You wanted Killmonger?” he breathed against her ear, voice low and gritty, laced with dark amusement, “Huh?” He bounced her again, the sound of her moaning his name fed something carnal in him, “Say it again, Princess.”
Sanaa shook her head, biting her lip, but her pussy clenched hard around him, giving her away.
“Nah,” Erik growled. “You been talkin’ all that shit now you gettin’ it.” Another thrust. Deep. He rocked up into her and held, “Say. That. Shit.”
Her breath caught, “…Killmonger…” Sanaa’s voice barely made it past her lips. “Don’t stop fucking your pussy, Killmonger…”
That was all Erik needed.
His arms flexed tighter beneath her knees, locking Sanaa in. Her back was flat against the wall now but her hips were tipped—cocked up perfect and wide. That pussy sat right on his dick like it was made to fit him and only him. Swallowing all that thick pressure with every pump of his hips. Erik didn’t slam into her, he stroked. Sanaa looked down and her breath hitched with surprise at how her hips jerked involuntarily every time he pushed in and how her hips chased the sensation again when he slides back out.
“Mmm. There she go,” Erikk growled low against her throat, breathing in her scent, teeth grazing her skin, “You feel that? That stretch right there?”
Sanaa nodded fast, lower lip trembling but the only sound she could make was a tight little gasp. Her acrylics dug onto his shoulders and her thighs quaked over his arms.
Erik held her there and made her feel it.
“Yeah.” he said, that voice low and deep, “That’s what I thought. Pussy talkin’ now.”
And it was.
Every time he rolled his hips forward, that slick, soaking grip of hers let out a wet little squelch. A pop as air got trapped and pushed back out. That tight little pussy started queefing loud and messy between them. Sanaa’s whole body tensed in embarrassment. She’d NEVER done that before. She shut her eyes and tilted her face away, trying to stop herself from doing it again but nope. It kept happening.
What the fuck?
But Erik loved it.
“Nah, don’t hide,” he grunted, dragging his dick out slow until just the tip sat at her entrance, then pushed right back in with a deep, thick stroke that made her head knock against the wall with a soft thud, “Let it talk. Let me hear how tight that shit is.”
“E—”
Sanaa was trying to hold it in, but Erik didn’t give her the chance. Erik snatched it from her chest with the next thrust. Smooth and deep again. Long strokes. Pussy gripped him so snug it felt like it was sucking him back in. Her arousal was dripping down his ball now. Every time he pulled out, his dick glistened with it, creamy at the base. Wet and shiny all the way up to the head.
Then it happened. That change. That little flutter deep inside her.
Sanaa’s walls started twitching like they were confused. Like her pussy didn’t know if it wanted to clench him or release. It pulsed around him, and she gasped again, harder this time.
“Fuck—”
“Yeah…” Erik grunted, “she feelin’ it now.”
Erik adjusted his stance. He took one small step forward so her back pressed tighter to the wall, and then he angled his hips downwards. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was chasing her spot now. And when he found it? Sanaa had to bite down on her bottom lip to stifle a loud moan. Her whole body jerked in his arms. Her mouth dropped open, closed in a pout, eyes crossing, breath catching. Her pussy squeezed so hard around his dick it made his knees buckle.
“Damn, there she go. That’s what I wanted from that pussy.”
Sanaa didn’t even know if she could ever speak again after that. But a sound came out of her. A mix of a cry and a moan and a choked little please. All the things he watched from her, every thrust hit that spot. She started having the most intense orgasm she’d ever had and she couldn’t run. She could feel it. A warm, milky wave gushing out of her, coating his dick, her thighs, dripping to the floor of. It made everything wetter. Nastier. Louder. Pussy slipping and gripping around him. Erik licked his lips as he watched her face twist up.
“Creamin’ on this dick, baby?” Erik spoke soft, biting her earlobe, “That’s what happen when you fuck wit’ a grown ass man.”
Sanaa whimpered. Bit her lip.
His dick dragged through her like he was reminding her who owned that pussy. Like he knew it better than she did. Rubbing her walls raw in the best way. Grinding into that tender, aching spot inside her that had her leaking again.
Do that again, Daddy that feels so good, she thought.
His voice was a low growl now, filthy, dark, right in her ear.
“You gon’ take this dick. Just like that. That’s what you wanted, ain’t it? That what you beggin’ for?”
Erik snapped his hips into her so deep her eyes rolled.
She was cumming again. Not from clit play. Not from fingers.
From dick.
Thick, deep, grown man dick.
Sanaa moaned—low-pitched, pretty, almost sobbing—and Erik smiled against her neck.
“Uh huh…that’s right,” he said, “Let me hear it.”
He rolled his hips again, just right. And again. Stroking deep and smooth. Not stopping. Her walls squeezed so tight around him he could barely move.
“Damn, baby…this pussy tryna keep me in…” His voice dropped even lower. “You want me to cum in it, don’t you?”
Her body jumped.
Sanaa shook her head weakly, but he saw the way her pussy clenched again. She couldn’t even lie.
Erik laughed under his breath, “You came beggin’ for this dick again I don’t know, Bri. Might not get this nut tonight.”
Then he did something that wrecked her.
He leaned back just enough to look at her.
Held her up, eyes locked to hers, and gave her one… slow…deep grind.
His dick dragged against every inch of her walls. Pressed to her spot. Stretched her from the inside until her whole body arched and her face twisted in pure pleasure.
“Ain’t nobody ever fucked you like this…made you cream like this…” He kissed her jaw, “Nah…they was playin’ wit’ it, wasn’t they baby? Huh? Daddy got you…”
Another thrust. Another cry. Sanaa’s head hit the wall again. Her nails scratched down his back. She was shaking so bad he had to grip her tighter.
He groaned through gritted teeth, “Keep moaning like that and I’ma fuck around and nut in this tight little pussy…just might give you your present.”
She just nodded, moaned, and melted around him—completely fucked. Her walls fluttered again, and he knew…
She was about to cum AGAIN.
Erik rolled his hips again, one long, smooth stroke that had her gasping into his neck. Her body arched. Her pussy clenched. Her thighs twitched where they were locked over his arms. Erik could feel how open she was now. How she’d molded to him. Wrapped around him so tight and juicy and so fucking wet, it sounded like syrup every time he sank back in.
Slrp…squelch…slrp…
“Shhhhit,” he groaned, dragging his lips across her cheek, breath hot. “That sound makin’ me crazy…”
He shifted just slightly, angled deeper. Lower. Found that spot again.
Sanaa opened her mouth but no sound came out. Then, her head dropped back and her face…
So damn pretty.
Lips parted. Brows pinched. Skin flushed and glistening. She looked like she didn’t know whether to moan or cry.
Erik watched her, mesmerized, “Look at you…” he muttered, eyes dropping to her mouth. “So fuckin’ pretty when you cum.”
She bit her lip, hard. Her fingers clawed into his back. Erik pulled her away from the wall. He grunted, bounced her again, then rolled his hips so perfect her eyes damn near crossed. Sanaa pressed her lips to the curve of his neck, panting softly, her nose buried in his scent. Her body was wrung out, pussy soaked and fluttering around him, but she gave him what he wanted.
His grip on her thighs tightened, “Yeah,” he said, rocking up into her again, slow and deliberate, “you wanted Killmonger…”
Erik fed it to her just like that. Deep strokes that made her press her forehead to his jaw, made her toes curl again in the air. Erik backed towards the bed, still holding her while deep inside, until the backs of his legs hit the edge. Then, he eased down, his arms guiding her down with him like she was something precious. He settled back against the pillows, legs spread wide, hands gripping beneath her thighs while she adjusted.
Sanaa didn’t waste time.
She rose up into a squat, planted her feet firm on either side of his thighs, and lifted herself until just the tip of that thick dick stayed inside. Then, she dropped. The sound it made—the wetness, the weight of her ass clapping down, the deep breath Erik took through his nose—fills the room.
Sanaa did it again and again. Her curls fell into her face, sticking to her cheeks and neck, sweat rolling down her chest as her body took over. She was on a mission now. Squatting low, bouncing on him with that juicy grip, swallowing every inch. Her thighs flexed, that ass jiggled with each drop, and her moans came out like breathy spells.
“Mm…fuck, it’s too deep…I can’t even breathe right…you feel that? You feel that, daddy?”
Erik didn’t answer. He leaned in, mouth hungry, and caught her nipple between his lips, sucked it, tongue circling the tip before letting it pop free. Then, he moved to the other, licking and teasing until her back arched and her pussy pulsed hard around him.
Sanaa’s hand went to the back of his neck, pulling him in closer, grounding herself against the flood of pleasure. She didn’t wanna stop riding. She didn’t wanna stop grinding. She started rolling her hips, slow figure eights while still deep in that squat, eyes fluttering shut, lips parted around a soft moan, chest heaving.
It was a sight.
Her curls framed her face wild and damp. Nipples hard and pointed. Mouth glossy with spit. That slim-thick body was glistening everywhere—down her neck, across her stomach, where Erik’s hands slid to grab her waist. Every bounce, every grind, made her gasp. Made her sigh. Made her shine.
Erik breathed heavy, eyes locked on the way she moved, “Fuckin’ beautiful…”
His thighs were tight, muscles straining as he held himself back, eyes locked on the sight above him. Sanaa’s hips were working overtime, slow then fast, smooth then nasty. She was riding him like it meant something. Like she needed that dick to breathe. Her palms braced against his chest as she worked her body over his big dick, up and down, clenching him so tight he could barely think. Erik’s hands had nowhere to go but up—one locked around her waist, the other scrubbed up her stomach, over the curve of her breast, and finally up to her face. His thumb traced along her jaw before sliding to her cheek. He was stuck. Couldn’t stop looking at her. That lil’ face twisted in ecstasy, mouth open, eyes fluttering every time she sank down on him and took it all like a good girl.
“Give it to me…” she begged, voice sugar-slick and whimpering, “Give it to me, please.”
Erik grunted low, chest heaving, lips parted like the air got caught in his throat. He could feel it rising, the rush, the heat in his spine, the clench in his gut. Her pussy was too tight. Too wet. She gripped him and made a mess on him every time she bounced.
“I’m bein’ good,” she said through breathy moans, her ass slapping against his thighs. “I’m riding daddy’s dick good.”
He could barely hold on. His head dropped back against the pillow, jaw tight, sweat slicking the cut of his collarbones. “Fuck, lil’ mama…”
Her lips curled into a wicked little smile. She wanted all of him. And she was gonna get it. Sanaa dropped her hips faster, harder, like she knew he was right on the edge.
“Fill me up.”
Erik looked up at her like she was unreal. A fantasy he accidentally pulled out of his dreams. Her titties bouncing with every move. The roll of her hips was deadly. The wet sounds between them only made it filthier. She arched her back, leaned forward, and started grinding instead of bouncing. That roll she did with her hips? That shit broke him.
“Unh…yes,” she panted, nails digging into his chest. “Give me that Killmonger dick.”
Erik growled, deep and guttural, reaching ip and grabbing the back of her neck, dragging her face close to his. His eyes were heavy, bloodshot, lost in her, “You gon’ make me bust up in this pussy, girl…”
“That’s what I want,” she said, breath all over his lips. “I want it. I want you to nut in this pussy. I been so good. Look how I take it. Look at me…”
Erik looked. Couldn’t not look. Her pussy was swallowing him. Gripping every inch like it was molded for him.
Taking every inch of his daddy dick like her little pussy was made to do it. The way her body arched, the curve of her back, the wet slap of her ass meeting his lap—it was obscene, nasty, and perfect. And every time she rode down, her breasts bounced like they were cheering her on.
She put her hands on his chest, leaned forward just enough to whisper in his ear, “Look how I ride it, Daddy,” she panted, voice low and slick, “Look how I take it in my little pussy like a big girl supposed to.”
Erik’s eyes snapped open. That shit hit him like a shot to the chest. His nostrils flared. It was the kind of reaction a man had when he was trying not to bust too soon. Erik frowned hard at her, like her words had personally disrespected him.
Sanaa smirked, proud of herself. She swiveled her hips slow, teasing him with it, making sure he could feel every slick roll of her walls dragging over him.
“Oh yeah…mmm…” she moaned, drawing out the sound like it was syrup on her tongue. Her hands slid up his shoulders, “Such a big dick. You handsome and your thing big. So disrespectful.”
Erik’s hands flew to her ass, palms spread wide as he cupped her cheeks and started bouncing her harder. Sanaa gasped, lost her groove for a second as he took over. Her hands gripped his shoulders tight, nails pressing into his skin. Sanaa looked down at him and the way he stared up at her—eyes dark, lips parted, sweat on his temples—she knew.
He was about to lose it.
That’s right Bri. Bury that nigga.
“Shit,” Erik growled low, his voice breaking apart from how deep it hit. His hands dragged her down and lifted her up, over and over, using her body like it was his personal addiction. His grip got tighter, more demanding, like he needed her to keep going, to stay right there.
Their eyes locked. Sanaa’s mouth parted. She could see it in his face, all over it. That look. That edge. He was right there. Right on the fucking edge of letting go.
His chest rose quick, muscles flexing. His brows pulled in tight and his gold slugs flashed beneath clenched teeth. His hips stuttered, bucking up into her, and he let out this low, primal sound like he was trying to hold back a flood.
Sanaa was taking that dick like she owned it—slow and deep, then fast and filthy, grinding into Erik’s lap with that little arch in her back that always made him twitch. His hands were locked on her ass, pulling her down, forcing her to take all of him. His mouth hung open as he breathed through it, face twisted up like he was trying not to explode.
But Sanaa wasn’t done.
“Say my name,” she whispered.
Erik grunted, trying to hold himself back, but his body was betraying him. Thighs flexing. Chest rising. That big dick of his twitching so deep inside her, begging for release.
“Whose big dick is this?” she asked, breath sweet and soft but commanding as hell, “Who’s big dick this belong to?”
He almost choked on his own spit. His grip on her ass tightened, fingers digging into the flesh like he was trying to keep her there. “It’s yours,” he rasped. “Fuck, it’s yours—”
She tilted her head.
“It’s mine? Huh, Killmonger?”
His whole body jerked. He stilled. He was about to fill her up. He wanted to. Needed to. He was locked in, ready to drown in her.
“Shit—” he breathed, jaw locked, legs tense as hell, “Take this nut, daddy’s girl—”
And that’s when she did it.
Sanaa hopped off. Quick and clean.
Erik let out a deep, wrecked growl as his big dick bounced up, angry and wet, pulsing without a home. His eyes went wide, stunned, and before he could get his bearings, it was already happening. That first thick spurt shot up and landed hot on his lower abs. Another followed, streaking his thighs. His hips bucked helplessly as more of his nut spilled out, messy and hot, painting his skin. He looked down at himself, then back up at her, brows drawn in deep like did you really just hop off my dick?
Sanaa stood at the edge of the bed like a goddess fresh off her throne. Her body glistened in the dim light, skin warm, inner thighs shiny with her own climax. She took her time picking up her T-shirt from the floor, slipping it back over her head like nothing happened. Just tits swaying soft beneath cotton. Then she stepped in front of his full-length mirror and fluffed her curls, satisfied.
Erik watched, still leaking, dick twitching on his stomach, mind blank.
Sanaa giggled to herself, caught his reflection behind her in the mirror, then turned and faced him.
“Now lay in it.”
She blew him a kiss, walked to the door, and slipped out without another word.
And Erik—naked, breathless, covered in his own nut—could only lay there. Speechless. Destroyed. Worshipping her with his eyes while she took all the power with her.
______
Erik stayed frozen. His chest heaved and his lungs burned as he fought for air. The silence that followed Sanaa’s exit was deafening, leaving him stranded in the wreckage of a ruined orgasm. He was vibrating, every muscle in his large, scarred frame coiled tight, trapped in that agonizing limbo between peak pleasure and a sudden, jarring stop.
He looked down at himself, his gaze heavy and dark. His abs were slick, coated in a sheen of chaotic mess that consisted of her juices and the cum he’d leaked while she’d been grinding her pussy on his dick. It was a smeared, translucent map of her greed and her cruelty. Erik reached down, his thick fingers dragging through the wetness on his stomach, swirling her cream into his skin. Erik didn’t wipe it away. He smeared it, feeling the tacky mess against his keloid scars, the scent of her pussy filling his nostrils and fueling the fire in his gut.
Erik’s mind was a loop of the last twenty minutes. He could still feel the exact pressure of her thighs gripping his waist, the way her soft curves collided with his hard muscle. He replayed every bratty, teasing thing she’d whispered in his ear, the way she’d looked down at him with that confident, challenging smirk while she rode him. Like he didn’t fold her little ass in half against the wall. She had known exactly what she was doing. Pushing him to the very edge, making him ache, making him crave the release that only she could trigger, and then simply sliding off right before the explosion.
Erik looked at his dick. It was half-hard, a thick, vein-riven, pole that refused to fully go soft. It was twitching. Pulsing with a frustrated dance. A thick, pearly bead of cum leaked from the tip, dripping onto his thigh. It was the seed that should have been buried deep inside her. The load he had been ready to pump into her until she was overflowing. Right up against the posterior fornix. Seeing it waste away on his own skin made his jaw clench so hard his teeth groaned.
The frustration wasn’t a clean anger. It was a dark, suffocating obsession. He felt a possessive hunger clawing at his insides, a need to reclaim the control she’d snatched away. He stared at the door she’d walked through, his eyes narrowing. The fact that she could leave him like this—wrecked, leaking—didn’t make him want to pull away. It made him want to hunt her down, pin her to the nearest surface, and fuck the bratty attitude right out of her.
Erik touched the leaking tip of his dick, smearing the wasted cum across his thigh, breath hitching. He wasn’t just horny. He was consumed. He wanted to feel her clench around him again. To feel her shake as he finally took what was his. Leave her just as ruined as he was right now.
His mind was a storm. Racing with a volatility that usually only surface in the heat of a kill zone. He was Erik N’Jadaka Stevens. He was a mercenary nicknamed Killmonger. He was a ghost. A weapon. A man who had navigated the darkest corners of the globe as a Navy SEAL and a Black Operative. HALO jumped from war planes. Witnessed the unthinkable. Looked death in the eye and didn’t blink. He had a tally of 2,207 lives extinguished by his own hand. Each one a testament to his precision, his ruthlessness, and his absolute control over every environment he entered.
Erik almost dismantled an entire empire, fought his way through his bloodline and walked away from it all because he was the only one strong enough to do so. He was a man who commanded respect through fear and dominance. He wasn’t someone to be played with, let alone fucked with.
And yet, here he was.
He stared at the ceiling, jaw locked, feeling the phantom weight of Sanaa pressing into him. The sheer audacity of it burned in his chest. This little brat—this slim-thick, espresso brown, teasing woman—had just flipped the script on him. She had ridden him with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, pushing him to the absolute precipice of his sanity, and then she simply vanished. She had left him stranded in the wreckage of his own desire, lying in the ruins of a ruined orgasm.
How? The question echoed in his head, fueling a dark possessive fire. How was it possible that Sanaa held this much power over him? He was the one with the muscle, the experience, the sheer physical presence that could crush her. He was the one who should be dictating the terms of their surrender. But in her absence, he felt the weight of her influence like a collar around his neck. She didn’t need a weapon to disarm him. She just needed to know exactly where his breaking point was and then step away from it.
Her thighs. Thick, soft, warm…grown-woman thighs. That’s the part that hits him in the chest. She sits on the sofa with them pressed together and he can’t stop looking. She walks around the apartment in those tiny shorts and his mouth goes dry. She crosses her legs slow and he feels that twitch in his sweats every damn time.
Her taste. Erik knew she’d be sweet. He knew it. But he didn’t expect that. That flavor. That warmth. That addictive, met-on-his-tongue sweetness that ruins men. She tastes like warm skin, slick heat, something naturally sweet, something that coats his tongue and stays there. Something he wants more of every second. He became obsessed with it. So much so that it started haunting him. He’ll be sitting in the kitchen with a glass of water, thinking about the taste between her thighs. He’ll be trying to sleep but he keeps remembering the way his mouth got messy on her. He’ll be in the shower, jaw clenched, palm on the tile, replaying the sound she made when he spread her open with his thumbs and dragged his tongue across all that wetness. Her taste is the reason he stops pretending she don’t got a hold on him. Because once he found out what that pussy tasted like…
He can’t not want it again. And again. And again. He’s calling her greedy but ain’t no way her greed matches his. Erik is hungry for that pussy. Possessive over that pussy.
Sweetest pussy I ever had. You know I’m comin’ back for that. Don’t give that flavor to nobody else….
How tight her pussy is. When he slid in the first time? Erik damn near forgot his own name. She’s so goddamn right he gotta breathe through it. Gotta hold still. Gotta grip her hips and talk her through opening up because if he move too fast, too soon, he gon’ bust right there. That warm clench around him…the way she hugs every inch…how her pussy tries to pull him deeper…how her walls flutter when she moans…how she get tighter when she says his name. That’s why he gotta fuck her lil’ ass slow sometimes.
The breathy moans. Oh my god. The softness…the shaky ‘mmm’ when he moves just right. The whisper of ‘Erik” when she’s tryna hold on but can’t. Erik could write whole chapters about that sound. Soft. Breathy. Pretty. Innocent but filthy underneath. The sound of a good girl losing her mind for a grown man. That’s what makes him nuts. That innocence melting. And every time she let out one of those little whimpers? He feels it in his spine. In his chest. In his dick. Her moans are what make him emotional about the sex. The thing he didn’t plan on. The part that binds him to her. That’s why he keeps coming back. Why he can’t leave it alone. Because her body talks to him. Her thighs…her taste…her tightness…her voice. And every part says the same thing.
It’s yours.
Erik’s gaze dropped back down to his lap. His dick was a thick, pulsing column again. Just the thought of her got him standing at attention again. He reached down, his massive, calloused hand wrapping around the girth. He could feel a pulse against the pad of his fingers as he pumped the veiny, rock-hard muscle. He watched the way the skin stretched over the thick veins. With every squeeze, more of that wasted seed spilled out. Thick, pearly ropes of cum leaking from the tip, coating his fingers and smearing across his palm. It was a lot of cum. A heavy load that had been built up through minutes of agonizing torture.
Erik gripped himself tighter, a low growl vibrating in his throat. This shit should have been buried inside her. He should have pinned her legs back and sat this dick right against the bottom of her pussy, pumping every single drop of this wasted nut with a pulse of his groin until she was overflowing. Hear those pretty little whimpers as he stuffed her full.
Instead, he was cleaning himself up.
Erik didn’t just want her back. He wanted to reclaim the dominance she had stolen. He pumped his dick one last time, smearing the excess cum over his tip in. Rough, frustrated motion. He wasn’t just horny. He was hunting.
The soldier in him had taken over, and Sanaa had just become the most high-priority target of his life.
5:18 A.M.
The gym lived in a different world before sunrise. No conversations. No crowds. Just steel, rubber flooring, and the steady percussion of plates crashing against barbells. Fluorescent lights reflected off rows of mirrors while the smell of chalk and disinfectant lingered beneath the sharper bite of sweat.
Erik preferred it this way.
Nobody asked questions. Nobody recognized him. Nobody expecting anything except another man putting in work.
He stood at the squat rack rolling his shoulders beneath a fitted black compression shirt that clung to every line across his chest and arms. Dark charcoal shorts stopped just above his knees, revealing powerful quadriceps crisscrossed with veins before the workout had even begun. Black crew socks disappeared into worn training shoes that had seen enough miles to mold themselves around his feet. His locs were pulled back into a low ponytail, thick ropes hanging between his shoulder blades with a few shorter pieces escaping near his temples. Sweat had begun to gather along his hairline despite the hour.
Erik’s headphones sealed the world away.
Mona Lisa.
Lil Wayne’s voice filled his ears.
Erik ducked beneath the loaded barbell and settled it across his back. Four plates. The weight felt familiar. Comfortable. He stepped back, braced, then dropped. The squat was deep enough that his hips disappeared below parallel before he exploded upward again. One. Again. Two. Again. Three. Every rep clean. Every rep angry. Every rep supposed to empty his head. Instead…
Sanaa.
The first time she says his name. Her scent after a shower. Her laugh. Her eyes rolling whenever he said something she ain’t like. The way she’d glance at him before pretending she hadn’t. Those glasses. The bow-legged walk she does with the little switch in her hips.This the same girl that used to sleep over in Aaliyah’s room? The one that would eat cereal cross-legged in the living room? The shy girl that could barely look at him?
“Damn.”
Erik racked the weight harder than necessary.
She had Jim tripping. Actually tripping.
Erik pulled one side of his headphones back long enough to catch his own breathing before shoving it into place again. His thumb pressed the volume buttons.
Louder. Wayne. Kendrick.
The bass vibrated against his skull.
It didn’t matter. She was still there.
Erik walked toward the leg press, loading plate after plate until most people would’ve needed help moving the sled. But Erik was a different breed. His knees folded toward his chest.
Push.
The sled climbed.
Lower. Push. Again. Again. Again.
His thighs burned.
Good.
Maybe pain would do what music couldn’t. Maybe exhaustion would finally knock her loose.
Nope.
Because there she was again. In her oversized t-shirts she’d somehow managed to make look better than anything designed by a fashion house. With those glossy lips looking at him because she knew the effect she had. Staring at him like she wasn’t scared of him. That sas the dangerous part. Most people kept a healthy distance, but Sanaa kept getting closer.
Erik finished the set until his legs trembled, then sat forward with his forearms resting on his thighs, breathing through his nose.
You gotta get it together, he thought.
Erik stood before he could think too hard about the words.
Walking lunges came next. Heavy dumbbells. Eighty pounds in each hand.
Step. Lower. Drive through the heel. Step. Lower. Drive.
His forearms tightened around the knurled handles while every muscle below his waist demanded mercy. Erik welcomed it. The mirror caught him halfway across the turf. Broad shoulders. Compression shift darkened by sweat, revealing the raised scars along his torso and arms. Gold chain tucked beneath the collar. Locs swinging lightly with every stride. A man who looked completely in control.
Only he knew better. Because everytime his mind cleared…there she was. Her voice. Her smile. The little crease beside her nose whenever she tried not to laugh.
This don’t make no damn sense.
Romanian deadlifts. Hamstring curls. Bulgarian split squats. Calf raises until his calves cramped beneath his own bodyweight. An hour became an hour and a half. Then two hours. His legs felt like concrete. His shirt clung to him like a second layer of skin. Sweat traced the tattooed landscape of his arms before disappearing beneath the compression fabric.
His phone vibrated inside his gym bag as he reached for his towel.
One notification.
Aaliyah: Can you be our designated driver tomorrow night big bro? The girlies wanna hit these D.C streets and drinks will be in rotation so I’m tryna be responsible. Please and thank youuuuuuu ☺️
His heartbeat had betrayed him before he looked and realized it was his little sister. For one ridiculous second, he hoped it was her.
Erik shook his head at himself, grabbed the phone. And laughed under his breath.
Damn, lil’ mama. What you doin’ to me?
Erik slung the bag over his shoulder and headed for the locker room.
Erik: Aight 🙄
______
Sanaa stirred in her bed, sheets twisted around her legs, body aching deep, thighs trembling as she moved. A whimper slipped out before she could catch it. She blinked awake, the soreness hitting her all at once. Her hips. Her ass. The tender spots between her legs that pulsed from the night before. She lifted the hem of her oversized tee with shaky fingers, marks blooming across the curve of her waist, dark little reminders pressed into her skin. She traced one with her thumb, biting her lip when the pressure made her thighs twitch again.
Killmonger had her going stupid on the dick last night.
Flashes of memory shown behind her closed lids.
Her bouncing. Him picking her up in the air to drop her down in his dick. The slow grind-thrust he did that made her dizzy. How she came more than three times and still had the drive to ride him. Not once. Twice. The look of defeat in his eyes. The way he said her name all weak and pussy-drunk. How his big, strong hands gripped, pinned, caressed, and stilled her body. It was addictive fucking Erik.
Sanaa rolled over until her feet dangled over the side of her bed. She braced herself before pushing off, knees weak. She needed to stretch. There was no was she would be going out tonight in heels and twerking if she couldn’t even stand on two feet. She walked over to her walk-in closet and grabbed her yoga mat. She got into her first position. Her elbows pressed gently against the insides of her knees, easing them apart while she rocked from side to side, loosening joints that still carried last night’s workout.
She flowed into a ninety-ninety hip stretch next, one leg folded in front of her, the other tucked behind. Her fingertips rested lightly on the mat as she leaned forward until she felt the stretch bloom through her glutes and hips. She lingered there, breathing evenly before switching sides. Cat-cows followed, her spine rolling one vertebra at a time, then slow world’s greatest stretches that opened her hip flexors, hamstrings, and thoracic spine all at once.
By the time she finished with a few kneeling ankle rocks and controlled knee-over-toe lunges, warmth had replaced stiffness. Her hips felt lighter. Her knees tracked smoothly. She rose from the mat with an easy smile, bouncing once on the balls of her feet feeling stronger than she had fifteen minutes before.
Sanaa could almost see him. The massive, scarred warrior reduced to a shaking mess. The memory of it sent a fresh throb between her thighs. She had ridden him. Every inch of that thick, veiny dick stretching her open, pushing her to the brink. She had felt his control slipping, heard the way his breath hitched and his voice grew ragged. Begging to fill her pussy up. And then, at the absolute peak, when he was practically sobbing for it, she had simply slid off him.
Sanaa remembered the look of sheer, stunned betrayal on his face as she stood up, leaving him stranded. He had cum so hard just from the sudden loss of her gushy pussy, his nut erupting in thick, wasted ropes that coated his own stomach and thighs. He had been left to drown in his own cum, a ruined man, while Sanaa fluffed her hair and walked away without a backward glance. And she was glad she didn’t. Because she may have caved.
In that moment, Sanaa had felt an intoxicating surge of power. It wasn’t just about the sex. It was the psychological victory. She was a petite woman. A slim-thick frame that he could practically snap in half if he wanted to, yet she had brought him to his knees without lifting a finger—well she did lift that pussy up and down his dick. She had made a man of his stature, a ruthless killer and a dominant force of nature crumble. It made her feel like a goddess. A true woman who knew exactly how to wield her sexuality as a weapon. The contrast—his raw, masculine aggression versus her soft, bratty rigor—had been the ultimate aphrodisiac.
The triumph began to morph into a delectable, trembling anticipation.
Sanaa knew Erik. She knew that a man like him didn’t just take a loss. He planned a counter-attack. By leaving him like that, she hadn’t just won a round. She had issued a challenge. She could almost feel his possessive rage simmering. The dark, hungry fire that would be waiting for her the next time they were in the same room.
Her thoughts went from ‘that dick is the reason I keep playing with myself’ to ‘that dick is the reason I’m scared to let him fuck me’ to ‘that dick is the reason I keep letting him fuck me.’
A shiver ran down her spine, her pussy quivering instinctively. Sanaa was practically craving the moment he would decide he’d had enough of her games. She imagined his massive hand wrapping around her throat, pinning her down with a full weight of his muscular body, his voice a low, dangerous growl in her ear telling her exactly how he was going to punish her for her audacity. She wanted him to tame her. She wanted to feel that dominance return with a vengeance. To be stuffed full of his cum. To be gagged by his dick. A physical reminder that while she could play with fire, he was the one who owned the flame. The thought of being completely overwhelmed by him, of having her bratty confidence crushed under all that muscle, those scars, those tattoos, made her ache.
She was just about to go and take a shower when a knock hit the door. Before she could answer, Aaliyah pushed it open and stepped inside.
“Gurl. You still sleep? It’s almost twelve in the afternoon, sis.”
“I could have been in here flicking my bean.” Sanaa throws back, rolling her eyes.
Aaliyah flopped down at the foot of the bed, phone in her hand.
“Jordan been blowing me up all morning talkin’ ‘bout he sorry. I got his ass blocked so fast he prolly still typing. I ain’t got time for that nigga and his weak-ass bars or that dusty podcast he keep pushin’. He can keep that energy over there.”
“For how long before you end up taking him back, Liyah?” Sanaa replied with amusement.
“I swear I’m not this time. Plus, I’m leaving for my fellowship in three days. I wanna turn up and forget his ass. Maybe I’ll run into a new man and have a little fun. Who knows.”
Aliyah poked her tongue out. Sanaa laughed.
“Naima coming over to stay the night. The other girlies will be here tomorrow. And I texted Erik to ask if he can be our bodyguard for the night. He said aight.”
Sanaa had a visceral reaction to the sound of his name. She played it off with a chuckle and a shoulder shrug.
“That was sweet of him. Maybe he can have some fun instead of staying cooped up in here.”
“Gurl, I can say the same for you.”
“What?” Sanaa looked over at Aaliyah.
“Nothing.”
Aaliyah stretched out, back against the mattress, staring at the ceiling. Sanaa pretended to scroll through her planner on her iPad, but every slight movement of her weight sent a fresh ache rolling through her pussy. She pressed her knees together under the desk, trying to breath steady.
Aaliyah’s silence made Sanaa glance over to her best friend. She had this look on her face. Her usual chattiness halted.
“You good, Liyah?”
“Yeah,” Aaliyah said, but her voice dragged a little. She looked like she had more sitting on her tongue, something heavy, but she just sat up instead. “I gotta get ready anyway.”
She stood, crossing the room, and reached out to squeeze Sanaa’s shoulder—hard. The way she always did when she was feeling playful. Sanaa shoved her in return.
“Don’t be all day in here, bitch. I ordered us breakfast from that corner bakery we like. And some macha!”
11:08 A.M.
Washington, D.C.
Maple syrup. Butter. And fresh matcha.
Aaliyah had ordered breakfast from the little bakery around the corner that everyone on campus swore by. Empty brown paper bags sat folded on the kitchen island beside two half-finished iced matches, their cups beaded with condensation. Flaky crumbs from croissant breakfast sandwiches littered white napkins, evidence that neither woman had been particularly concerned with eating neatly. Sanaa leaned against the island, one hip resting against the quartz countertop while she absently stirred the last bit of ice in her drink.
Fresh out of the shower, she looked nothing like the woman she’d become once makeup and a dress entered the equation. Her dark curls were piled into a messy bun high on her head, loose ringlets escaping around her temples and the back of her neck. Gold hoops decorated her ears. A pair of turquoise tortoise shell glasses rested low on her nose while she scrolled through her phone. She wore charcoal yoga leggings that hugged her hips down to her calves, igniting her curves, a matching sports bra, and soft cream house slippers. Her lips glistened with caramel gloss and her skin still carried that fresh-out-the-shower glow because of the shower oil she’d used. Saltwater Vanilla. Comfort looked dangerously good on her.
Across from her, Aaliyah looked equally at home. She’d pulled on an oversized Howard University T-shirt that swallowed her frame and. Pair of black biker shorts. White crew socks disappeared into fuzzy tan slippers, and her hair had been gathered into a sleek puff. Her face was completely bare except for mascara and lip balm, making her look younger than twenty-two. She took another sip of her macha and sighed dramatically.
“I don’t even wanna get dressed.”
Sanaa laughed without looking up. “You literally planned this.”
“I know.” Aaliyah frowned into her cup. “Planning it and participating are two different things.”
“You got a whole fellowship to celebrate, sis. Then, you graduate. Be happy.”
“I know.” Aaliyah said.
“You begged us to come.”
“I know, bitch.” Aaliyah said.
“So…”
“I still don’t wanna put on lashes.”
Sanaa shook her head. “You don’t wanna sit and get your lashes done. And you don’t wanna put on the strip. Lazy.”
“I’m preserving my energy.”
Sanaa scuffed. “You sound eighty.”
“I feel eighty.”
A knock sounded through the apartment. Three quick raps. Before either woman could move, Erik stepped into the hallway.
He’d already showered too, but it seems he forgot to put on a shirt. And why are his athletic shorts dangerously low on his waist like that? The locs gathered up into a messy bun? A silver cross sitting between his pecs?
What the fuck?
“I got it.” He said.
He started toward the front door. Then, he looked up.
His eyes landed on Sanaa.
Everything inside him stalled for half a heartbeat. She wasn’t dressed up. She wasn’t even trying. She was standing there with messy hair, glasses, slippers, and gloss, lazily drinking matcha while sunlight poured across her skin.
Cute. Comfy. Entirely too familiar.
His gaze lingered just long enough for her to notice. She looked up over the rim of her glasses. Their eyes met. The corner of her mouth threatened to lift. Just a little.
He recovered first.
“I’ll get the door.”
His voice sounded perfectly normal.
Erik turned the handle. A delivery driver stood outside holding an oversized edible arrangement.
“Delivery for…Sanaa Carter?”
“Yeah. Thanks homie.”
The driver handed it over, offered a quick you’re welcome, and disappeared down the hallway. Erik nudged the door shut with his foot while balancing the arrangement in one hand. Chocolate covered strawberries. Pineapple flowers. Melon. Grapes. The whole thing sat in a decorative brown container wrapped with a bright green bow. As he walked toward the dining table, he spotted the small white envelope tucked between the fruit.
He pulled it free. Read it. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
“Hm.”
He set the arrangement down.
Both women immediately wandered over.
“Oooo,” Aaliyah sang. “Who got an Edible Arrangement?!”
Sanaa laughed. “Jordan with his sympathy gift.”
Erik looked at her. Then at the card. Then back at her. He held the card out. A slight curl of his plush top lip.
“It’s for you, Bri.”
Sanaa accepted it. Her brow lifted as she read it allowed.
“A sweet bouquet for a sweet girl. I hope this brightens your day, beautiful. Can’t wait to see you tonight. Signed…Nathan.”
She smiled. Just a little. “Oh.”
Aaliyah gasped so dramatically she nearly dropped her drink. “Oooooooooooh!!!”
Sanaa rolled her eyes. “Girl.”
“No.” Aaliyah pointed at the arrangement. “Not him sending you and Edible Arrangement, bitch!”
Sanaa laughed. “He’s thoughtful.”
“He tryna say you edible, sis.”
Sanaa burst into laughter, nudging Aaliyah out of the way with her hip. “Aaliyah!”
“I’m serious! What he tryna say you taste like pineapples?”
She leaned closer to inspect one of the chocolate-covered strawberries. “Mhmmmm. You left your mark on him, Bri.”
Wanna shook her head, unable to stop smiling. “It is kinda sweet.”
“It is sweet. Thoughtful.” Aaliyah said.
She carefully lifted one of the pineapple flowers by the stem, admiring how it had been carved. “This is actually really pretty.”
Across the table, Erik stared at the arrangement like it had personally offended him. There was silence. Long silence. Then…
“…Fruit look old.”
The women turned toward him. Sanaa blinked. Aaliyah fought back a laugh.
“What?” Sanaa said.
Erik pointed. “That grape wrinkled.”
“It is not.”
“It definitely is. You got glasses in you can’t see that?”
Aaliyah squinted. “It kinda…”
Sanaa immediately defended the fruit. “It is not wrinkled.”
“It look tired.” Erik said.
Aaliyah giggled, staring between them.
Sanaa had to laugh herself. “Fruit get tired, E?”
Erik put his hands up, biceps flexing in a way that almost broke Sanaa’s composure.
“I’m just tellin’ you what I’m seein’.” He leaned slightly closer. “And then flowers…”
“What flowers?”
“The pineapple.”
Sanaa looked. “They’re cute.”
“They look like they wiltin’.”
Aaliyah turned away laughing quietly to herself.
“It’s carved fruit.”
“Mm.” Erik nodded once. “Cheap-ass edible plant.”
Sanaa folded her arms. “You a haterrr.”
“I ain’t hatin’.”
“You absolutely hatin’. On fruit though? If you wanted some all you had to do was ask, E.”
Aaliyah laughed so hard she grabbed the counter. “Oh my God.” She dabbed her eyes. “Whew! Ya’ll funny!”
Erik continued studying it with the same expression someone might reserve for a suspicious car engine.
“I’ve seen better strawberries.”
“You are ridiculous.”
“I’m honest.”
Sanaa picked up a chocolate-covered strawberry and held it toward him. “You want one, meany?”
“Nah.”
“You sure?”
“I’m positive, B–” he caught himself. “Bri.”
“You don’t even know if it’s good and you judging.”
“I know enough.”
Sanaa took a bite instead. The chocolate cracked softly. Her eyes widened.
“Mmmm.”
Aaliyah immediately reached for one too. She took a bite, eyes widening. “Oh, that’s good! Fruit taste fresh to me.”
Erik watched both of them eating. Still unimpressed.
“…chocolate doin’ all the work—”
Sanaa laughed so hard she nearly choked. “You are a professional hater.”
“I call shit like I see it.” Erik fired back.
“You jealous of fruit, big bro?” Aaliyah teased.
“I ain’t jealous of shit. Give me a reason to be.”
“You sound jealous, E.” Sanaa said.
Erik looked at the arrangement one last time before shaking his head. “Hope the nigga kept the receipt.”
With that, he turned and walked into the living room as if the conversation had exhausted him. Behind him, the girls dissolved into another fit of laughter. From the sofa, Erik could see Sanaa on her phone. She brought it to her ear, and the minute she spoke Nathan’s name Erik’s jaw ticked.
He leaned back, picked up the TV remote, and stared at the blank screen without turning it on.
An Edible Arrangement? Out of everything that man could’ve sent…fruit.
Erik rubbed a hand over his beard.
Ain’t even send her flowers.
His eyes drifted toward the dining room where Sanaa was still smiling with the phone pressed to her ear while Aaliyah teased her.
His mouth flattened.
Cheap-ass fruit.
Another knock echoed through the apartment. Aaliyah looked up from the edible arrangement and grinned.
“That gotta be Naima.”
She hurried to the front door and pulled it open. Naima stepped inside with an overnight bag slung over one shoulder, dressed in an oversized white linen button-down over black slim-fit jeans and clean white sneakers. Her twist-out framed her face perfectly, her large almond eyes immediately finding the people gathered around the dining table.
“There she is,” Aaliyah said, wrapping her in a quick hug.
“Congratulations again, Fellowship Girl.”
“You gon’ make me cry.”
Naima smiled before making her rounds. She hugged Sanaa tightly.
“Hey, pretty.”
“Hey, Nai.”
She lifted a hand toward Erik. “Hey, Erik.”
He nodded once. “Naima.”
Her attention drifted to the centerpiece on the table.
“…Hold on.” She leaned in. “Who sent that?”
Aaliyah didn’t even give Sanaa a chance to answer. “Nathan.”
Naima’s eyebrows climbed. “Oh, he trying.”
Sanaa laughed, turning the little card over in her fingers. “I told you he’s sweet.”
“Mmm.” Naima examined one of the chocolate-covered strawberries. “He definitely scored some points.”
Aaliyah sighed dramatically, the smile slipping from her face.
“Meanwhile…” She folded her arms. “I’m officially done with Jordan.”
Naima’s expression softened immediately. Without saying a word, she rubbed slow circles across Aaliyah’s back.
“I know.”
Aaliyah let out a long breath. “I’m over it.”
“You keep saying that.”
“This time I mean it.”
Naima studied her for a second before hooking an arm through hers. “C’mon.”
“Where we going?”
“I need details.”
Aaliyah groaned. “I knew you was gon’ interrogate me.”
“Damn right.”
The two disappeared down the hallway toward Aaliyah’s bedroom, their voices fading behind a closing door. Sanaa watched them go with an amused smile before reaching for another chocolate-covered strawberry. From the living room, Erik glanced toward the edible arrangement again.
He still looked unconvinced.
______
Sanaa was sitting at the dining table, talking to Nathan on the phone. She had it on speaker, completely aware of Erik sitting in the living room. This felt like déjà vu. The last time she was talking on the phone with Nathan, she had a mouth full of Erik’s dick.
“Mhm. I wanted to tell you thank you. It was really sweet.”
“I’m glad it made it.”
“It definitely did.” Sanaa walked over and plucked a chocolate-covered strawberry from the arrangement. “Aaliyah and I have already been picking at it.”
“So it passed inspection?”
“It passed with flying colors.”
She bit into the chocolate strawberry, eyes flicking over to Erik. He sat back, legs wide and swinging, eyeing her with an unblinking stare that did the opposite of what he intended it to do. It only made her pussy wet. When will he realize that those looks don’t get the reaction he’s looking for?
“I was hoping you’d like it.”
“I do. I really do.” Her voice softened. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know. But I can’t stop thinking about you. Ya’ll going out tomorrow night right? For Aaliyah?”
Erik isn’t saying a word to her, but his eyes are locked on her, dark and tracking the way she smiles. The way she makes her voice all sweet. He grabs his phone beside him quick.
Her phone buzzes in her hand.
Erik: Come here Miss Carter.
Sanaa glances at him, a bratty smirk playing on her lips. She doesn’t move an inch, keeping her gaze fixed forward as she responds to Nathan. Sanaa smiled to herself before taking a bite of the strawberry.
“That’s dangerous.”
“What?”
“You getting thoughtful this early.”
Nathan laughed. “I didn’t realize kindness came with a waiting period.”
“I’m just saying…now you’re setting expectations.”
“I can live with that.”
She shook her head, smiling wider.
Buzz.
Erik: I ain’t gon ask you again. Get over here.
Sanaa bites her lip, feeling the heat radiating off him. She types back quickly, her thumb flying across the screen while Nathan continues to ramble.
Sanaa: Sorry daddy. Aaliyah and Naima. We can’t do nothing 😔
Erik’s expression doesn’t change, but his jaw tightens. He don’t give a fuck who in the apartment. The only thought running through his mind is her disobeying him.
Erik: I don’t give a fuck about that, Bri. If you don’t move that ass over here right now, I’m a come get you. And I won’t be gentle about it.
Sanaa shivers, her pussy giving a sudden, wet throb. She can feel the weight of his gaze on her chest, imagining those huge, calloused hands gripping her waist and tossing her over his shoulder.
Sanaa: You so damn dramatic lol. All because he sent me fruit 😂. Mad you got competition?
Erik lets out a low, silent huff of a laugh. He shifts his weight, the fabric of his shorts straining against the thick, heavy length of his dick. He remembers last night clearly. The way she’d taken him, the raw, desperate energy of it. The bounce of that ass. The creamy mess. Nathan ain’t got shit on him.
Erik: Since you wanna play...tell me something. Why you ride my dick like that last night? Huh?
Sanaa’s breath hitches. She almost forgets to answer Nathan.
“You know,” he continued, “I remembered you saying you liked fruit more than candy, so it seemed like an easy decision.”
“You remembered that?”
“Course I did.”
“See…” she teased. “Now you showing off.”
“Nah. I just pay attention.”
Sanaa: I don’t know what you’re talking about 😇 I’m innocent.
Erik: Stop fucking playing. You was shaking. Taking every inch of this dick like you was starving for it. You rode me until I was seeing stars, then you just...left.
Sanaa: I didn't leave. I just finished.
Erik: Finished? You left me leaking all over myself. My chest, my stomach...just a fucking mess of cum cuz you decided you was done.
Sanaa feels a surge of power, remembering the look on his face—the ruthless soldier reduced to a shaking, overstimulated mess because of her. She types back, her voice sounding breathy as she tells Nathan, “Well…thank you. Seriously. It made my day.”
Sanaa: You liked it. you loved how much of a mess I made of you. Let’s not play pretend Killmonger.
Erik:Thing is I ain’t gotta pretend. I loved it. Now I wanna do it back. I wanna see you dripping.
He watches her, his eyes dropping to her legs. He knows exactly what she’s wearing—or rather, what she isn’t. Them yoga pants and got no panties underneath.
Erik: Stand up.
Sanaa: what? Nathan is still talking 😒
Erik: Fuck that nigga. Stand up and put some shorts on.
Sanaa looked back at Erik. The risk of Aaliyah walking in is high, but the look in Erik’s eyes tells her that if she don’t obey, he’s going to stop texting and start taking.
Sanaa: you a menace. 😩
Erik: And that pussy wet. Now move.
Sanaa slipped into her room, her heart hammering against her ribs. She took off her yoga pants and grabbed a pair of thin, grey cotton shorts. Exactly what Erik wanted. Way too small, the fabric stretched tight over her curves and designed to ride up the second she moved. She slid them on, completely bottomless underneath. Waxed pussy lips against the crotch of the shorts. They clung to her hips and barely covered the swell of her bubble booty.
On her way out of the room, she could have sworn she’d heard a sharp intake of breath coming from Aaliyah’s room.
Sanaa brushed it off as she walked back out into the living area, her walk nothing but bow legs and cheeks swaying, knowing exactly how the fabric was hiking up. Erik was waiting, his massive frame lounging back, but his eyes were like lasers, tracking the way her cheeks peeked out from under the hem.
On the speakerphone, Nathan’s voice was smooth, oblivious.
“So,” he asked, “does this mean I earned another date?”
She laughed. “You asking or assuming?”
“I’m asking. Confidently.”
“You coming out tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
The moment the words “see you tonight” left Nathan’s mouth, Erik’s expression darkened. A flicker of pure, possessive rage crossed his face. His jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck cording. He didn’t like the idea of Nathan touching what belonged to him, especially not when he had her dripping and desperate right here. Wearing the shorts he told her to put on. Looking down at him like she knew who lap she was sitting in.
Without a word, Erik reached out and gripped her hip, yanking her forward with a strength that left no room for argument. He guided her to straddle his right thigh. He was wearing loose athletic shorts, the fabric thin enough that she could feel the radiating heat of his skin and the rock-hard density of the muscle beneath. As she settled onto him, Erik ain’t waste a second. He brought both of his massive hands up, cupping the cheeks of her ass and squeezing the flesh with a bruising grip. He started to rub, his palms kneading her curves, pushing the thin fabric of her shorts deep into her crack. He was marking her, claiming every inch of her skin while another man’s voice filled the room.
"Sanaa? You still with me?" Nathan asked.
Sanaa gasped, her voice hitching. “Yeah...yeah, I–I’m here, Nathan.”
Erik leaned in, his lips grazing the shell of her ear, then his tongue darted out to flick her earlobe, his voice a low, dangerous vibration that only she could feel. “Don’t let him hear you shake, you just might hurt his feelings, baby,” he whispered, the command cutting through her.
He shifted his grip. He took one large hand and pressed it firmly against the small of her lower back, pinning her against him. With the other hand, he kept a tight, controlling grip on her hip. He didn’t just want her to move, he wanted her to work for it.
“Roll your spine,” he breathed into her ear, his voice thick with authority. “Grind it. I wanna feel every bit of that wet pussy rubbing against me. Right fuckin’ now. Before I let your little nigga know his crush gettin’ slutted out by her best friend brother.”
Chills.
Sanaa obeyed, her body trembling. She began to arch her back, rolling her hips in a slow, circular motion. Because he was wearing shorts, there was almost no barrier. The hard, ridged muscle of his quad pressed directly into her clit and the opening of her pussy. It felt like rubbing herself against a warm, living pillar of granite. Every time she rolled her hips, the friction sent a jolt of electricity straight to her core, making her internal muscles clench violently.
Erik watched her face with a sly smirk. The one with the single dimple peeking. The one that drove Sanaa crazy. He loved the way her eyes fluttered, the way she bit her lip to keep from moaning. But even in the height of the grind, the soldier in him remained vigilant. His eyes flicked toward the hallway, scanning for any sign of Aaliyah or Naima, his instincts honed for stealth and surveillance. The risk of being caught only added to the filth of it.
“Sanaa, you sound...distracted. Everything aight?” Nathan asked, a hint of confusion in his voice.
“I’m—I’m good. What were you saying?”
“Nothing important, just saying shit. Hahaha…so uh…what you doin’?”
Mm—uh, reading. Reading—uhhh, sorry the words are like bluring together right now I think I might need a nap.”
Erik quietly laughed, then whispered. “Nasty ass Edible Arrangement.”
Sanaa’s giggle was muffled against Erik’s neck.
“I don’t want you falling asleep on the phone, Sanaa. Get your beauty rest, baby girl.”
Erik presses his lips to her ear. “Listen to him...talkin’ all that sweet shit. Does he know you shakin’ for me right now? Does he know how wet you are for a real man?” Erik kissed along her jaw. “Answer him, Sanaa. Tell him you’re ‘just relaxin’ While you grindin’ on my thigh...tell him how relaxed you are.”
“I’m just really relaxed right now.” Sanaa watched Erik’s hands smooth up her thighs to cup her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples through her sports bra. “Really…I…mmm.”
“Mmm? What type of relaxin’ you doin’, girl?” Nathan chuckled.
Erik’s hand on her back pressed harder, forcing her to grind deeper, more aggressively. He flexed his thigh muscle, the hard mass pulsing upward, driving directly into her sensitive spot. But right there. Beside his thigh. His dick that’s equal parts long and thick, pulsed and jumped. This lil’ freaky bitch get him so fired up. He flared his nostrils, eyes fixed on her with that low, hazy look, high off her body working his thigh.
Sanaa looked down at his dick. Her breath hitched.
“Woah…Sanaa?”
“Mhm.” Sanaa buried her face in Erik’s neck.
“Are you…I don’t wanna assume shit but uh…are you…touching yourself?”
“Go ‘head, baby. Tell him you’re thinkin’ about him. Tell him while you feel my dick twitch against your leg...tell him he’s the only thing on your mind.”
He was really playing right now. Sanaa wasn’t about to back down. She licked her lips, her gaze locked with Erik’s while she spoke.
Sanaa bites her bottom lip. “You’re the only thing on my mind, Nathan…” her fingers crept down until they settled on the stiff pole sitting between his legs. He was hot to the touch. “I’m thinking about you…”
“Damn…really? And what are you doin’ that got you thinkin’ about me?”
“You shakin’, lil’ mama. Is that for him? Or is it ‘cause you know I’m about to make you leak all over these floors the second you hang up?”
“Sanaa?”
“Ride it for real,” Erik whispered, his breath hot against her neck. "Put your weight into it. Show me how much you want this. Who you think you is teasing me? Huh? Nah…you teasing him. Got him thinkin’ you touching yourself to thoughts of him…ttsk…such a bad girl, Sanaa…”
Sanaa let out a muffled whimper, her hips jumping in a desperate effort. She was riding his thigh like it was the only thing keeping her grounded, her pussy soaking the thin fabric of her shorts and moistening his thigh. The feeling was overwhelming. The combination of his commanding presence, the rough texture of the shorts, and the sheer power of his leg beneath her. She felt small, fragile, and completely dominated.
Sanaa tried to lean away for a second, her bratty instinct wanting to tease him, but Erik’s grip tightened, snapping her back against him. He placed both hands on her waist and repositioned her on his thigh.
“I ain’t tell you to stop,” Erik growled softly, his voice a warning. “Keep grindin’. Every time he speaks, you move faster. You my little toy right now, and you gon’ do exactly what the fuck I say.”
“I’m thinkin’ about what I’d let you do to m–me when I see you.” Sanaa managed to stammer out to Nathan, her voice trembling.
As soon as the words left her mouth, Erik accelerated the pace, his thigh flexing upward in a punishing motion that forced her to bounce. She was jumping on his thigh now, her pussy slamming against the hard muscle with every movement. The friction was intense, bordering on too much pressure, but it was the kind of ache that made her crave him more.
She was right on the edge, her breath coming in short, jagged gasps. She looked into Erik’s eyes and saw the absolute control he held over her. He wasn’t just fucking her with his leg. He was breaking her will, reminding her that no matter who she talked to or where she went, she belonged to the soldier.
Sanaa’s eyes flashed with a dangerous, bratty spark. She didn’t just want to be dominated. She wanted to push Erik until he snapped, to see that disciplined soldier persona crumble into raw, possessive rage. With a sudden, fluid movement, Sanaa lifted off his thigh and straddled his lap completely. She sat down heavy on him, her pussy pressing directly against the massive, rock-hard bulge stretching the fabric of his shorts. She leaned back slightly, her chest heaving, the phone pressed to her ear. Her voice changed. It became honeyed, dripping with a fake, innocent sweetness that was designed to drive Erik insane.
“I can’t wait to get you back to my room. I really want to see what you’re working with…see if you can handle me.”
As the words left her lips, Sanaa began to move. She didn’t just move, she started pressing her weight down, rotating her hips so that her clit rubbed directly against the thick, veined lengths of his dick through the cloth. She was grinding her pussy over his fat bulge, seeking every inch of that hard pipe, her eyes locked onto Erik’s.
Erik went completely still. His body became a statue of coiled muscle, his hands gripping the edges of the seat so hard his knuckles bulged like they were trying to break skin. He didn’t move a muscle, but his eyes—dark, hooded, and burning—were fixed on her face. He watched her lips move, heard her offer herself to another man, all while she used his own dick as a rubbing post. The mixture of rage and arousal in Erik’s gaze was suffocating. He looked like he wanted to rip her clothes off and fuck her into a fucked-out coma right there.
On the other end of the line, Nathan’s voice came through, sounding warm, eager, and completely oblivious to the filth happening on the other side.
“You killin’ me, Sanaa,” Nathan chuckled, his tone respectful but clearly aroused. “Trust me, I can handle you. I’m gonna take my time with you…make sure you’re completely taken care of. I wanna make you feel everything.”
Sanaa let out a soft, shaky moan, one that sounded like it was for Nathan, but was actually a reaction to the way Erik’s dick twitched beneath her. She increased the pace, grinding harder, her hips snapping forward to rock her pussy against the tip of his dick. She was practically begging for him to break, her eyes challenging him, daring him to drop her or take her.
“Mmm, you sound so confident,” Sanaa whispered into the phone, her voice breaking as she felt Erik’s hardness pulse against her. “I hope you can keep that same energy when I’m under you. I’m a lot to handle, Nathan…I don’t know if you’re ready for me.”
Nathan let out a low, breathy laugh. “Try me. I’ll show you exactly what I’m capable of. I’m counting down the hours until I can get my hands on you.”
Erik’s jaw clenched so tight a vein popped in his temple. He could smell that wet ass pussy leaking through her thin shorts and soaking into his own. The fact that she was using his dick to get herself off while promising herself to that little nigga was a level of disrespect that made his blood boil.
She was selling him a false story because ain’t no fucking way Nathan getting his hands on Sanaa.
Erik’s hand suddenly shot up, his thick fingers wrapping firmly around the back of her neck. His grip was a silent command. He pulled her head back slightly, forcing her to look down at him while she continued to grind on his bulge. His eyes told her everything: you think this a game? You think you’re in control? Just wait until I get this phone out of your hand.
“I’m gon’ fuck the memory of that nigga right out your head. You won’t even remember how to spell his name by the time I’m done wit’ you.” Erik whispered.
On the other end of the line, Nathan was completely caught in her web, his voice thick with a hunger he didn’t realize was being fueled by another man’s dick.
“Sanaa…damn, I can practically feel you, baby,” Nathan groaned, his voice dropping an octave. “I’m literally counting down the seconds. I’m gonna make you scream my name tomorrow night.”
Sanaa let out a shaky, breathy laugh, her hips rolling in a slow, agonizing circle over Erik’s bulge. The sheer size of him stretching the material of his shorts. She looked Erik dead in the eyes, her expression a mix of bratty defiance and raw lust.
“Mmm, I wish I could stay on the phone, Nathan,” she whispered, her voice dripping with a fake regret that made Erik’s grip on her neck tighten. “But I gotta hang up now. I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Already?” Nathan sounded genuinely bummed, his disappointment palpable. He was clearly hard as a rock on the other end, left hanging by the very woman who was currently using a soldier’s dick as a rubbing post for her kitty. “You’re killing me, Sanaa. Seriously.” He paused, his tone transitioning to something more possessive. “You owe me for this. Big time.”
“I know I do,” Sanaa cooed, and then she clicked the phone off.
Sanaa tossed her phone quick fast and with a renewed hunger she crushed her pussy against the thick ridge of his dick, tilting her pelvis so that her clit could get most of the friction.
Erik’s voice came out as a low, dangerous growl, vibrating against her chest. “You a little liar, ain’t you?” He hissed. “Lying to that lil’ nigga, telling him you gin’ give him some pussy…knowing damn well you ain’t giving him a fucking drop of what belongs to me.”
“Oh, so this pussy belongs to you now? Since when?”
Erik brought his hand around to the front of her neck now. Sanaa gasped, her back arching as she rolled her hips, feeling the head of his dick press firmly against her clit each time she drew her hips back. The sensation was electric.
“Tell me the truth, you fuckin’ brat,” Erik commanded, his other hand gripping her waist with a bruising force. He dug his fingers into her hip, anchoring her. “Who…” Erik rolled his hips up. “Pussy…” he did it again, his dick sliding between her pussy lips through her shorts. “Is…” when he did it again, Sanaa’s breath caught. “This…”
Sanaa bit her lip, eyes fluttering as she ground down harder, pussy clenching in a desperate need to be filled. “Yours,” she whimpered, the word barely a whisper. “It’s yours, Killmonger…”
His nervous system shifted to DEFCON without asking his permission. The sensation hit him the way a snapped tripwire hits a man who’s survived enough war to know the explosion always comes a heartbeat later.
“That’s right,” he grunted, his voice getting nastier. “Grinding that lil’ pussy on this dick so good like that. Fuck…you ridin’ my lap like you need me to nut just like this…”
“You tryna stop me or you tryna fuck me, Mr. Killmonger?”
His dick was so hard. So hard. Erik couldn’t even remember being dry humped. But the way she was doing it…
“You talk tough but this pussy got you holdin’ your breath.” She leans in, tongue darting out to lick the side of his face, “This the part where you grip me, bend me, and fuck the brat outta me, right? You don’t gotta pull it out yet…let me tease it a little first…”
“You know what you doin’. That’s the part that fuck me up.” Erik whispered.
Sanaa didn’t answer with words, she answered with a deep roll of her pelvis, sliding her wetness across the length of him. She could feel the way his dick jumped against her clit.
Erik stared at her, his eyes a dark mixture of lust and genuine disbelief. “I don’t even know how the fuck you this fine.” He muttered, his voice raw. “It don’t make no fucking sense how you look this good while being this nasty.”
Sanaa leaned in closer to his face, her lips almost brushing his, tilting her head with a slow blink and a bite of her lip.
“I know I’m special…you remember how it sounded the first time I creamed on your dick, daddy?”
Erik’s jaw flexed and his nostrils flared. “I laid your little ass out. That was supposed to be the only time you get this dick…”
“If it was only supposed to be one time…why your dick tryna talk to me again?”
Inside his own body, the pressure was building to a breaking point. Erik could feel the blood gorging his dick, making it feel oversized and tight, the skin stretched to its absolute limit. Every time she dipped her hips, pressing her weight down on him, he felt the blunt force of her pelvic bone hitting his pubic bone, a heavy thud that vibrated through his entire body. The stiffness was an ache, a demanding, throbbing need to burst through the barrier and bury himself deep in her little pussy. He felt pre-cum leaking from his tip, lubricating the friction, making the slide of her pussy against him feel smoother, filthier, and more urgent.
Erik watched her face—the bratty, confident look she wore—and it only made his dick twitch harder. He could feel the pulsing of his own heartbeat in his dick, a heavy, thumping cadence that matched the pace of her grinding. The sensation of her radiating through the cloth, the way she seemed to mold herself perfectly to the curve of his dick, made him feel like he was being consumed.
“You feel that, daddy?” Sanaa whispered, her lips grazing his earlobe. “You feel how fucking wet I am for you? I want you to stretch me out again…say the word and I’ll slide this pussy on, daddy…real slow. Or you scared of it now?”
Erik’s eyes flicked toward the hall when he heard faint laughter coming from Aaliyah’s room.
“Sanaa…you don’t want this smoke. Say one more thing, I swear to God—”
Sanaa spread her legs wider to get a deeper, more direct friction, her pussy gripping the bulge of his dick through the barrier of her shorts and his. She let out a soft, shaky moan, her eyes locking onto his with a bratty glint.
“Nathan thinks he’s getting this pussy tomorrow night,” she breathed, a cruel, sexy little smile playing on her lips. “He’s probably sitting there right now, thinking about my pussy… not knowing that it’s been stretched out by your dick. Not knowing that I’m grinding on you so hard I can feel your heart beating in your balls…” She rolled her hips in a tight circle, making sure he felt every inch of her soaking heat. She leaned back, her spine curving, her glossy lips parted as she looked down at him, her voice becoming a provocative command. “Tell me you love it. Tell me you love knowing that I’m lying to that nigga just so I can feel you inside me. You like knowing that I’d rather have this big, mean dick than anything he could ever give me, don’t you?”
Erik’s grip on her waist tightened, his fingers digging into her skin, but Sanaa didn’t flinch. She leaned back in, her voice dropping even lower, becoming a seductive poison.
“I can feel you shaking, Killmonger. You’re so fucking hard for me. Does it drive you crazy? Knowing that I’m your little slut, but right now…right now I’m the one ruining you? I’m the one making you lose your fucking mind while I just… slide…right…here.”
Erik grunts deep in his throat. She whispered against his skin, her voice thick with lust.
“You scared of gettin’ caught or you scared you’ll nut in your shorts? Don’t front, daddy. You need this more than I do.” She nipped at his earlobe, her breath erratic. “I’m such a little slut for you, aren’t I? Just a little wet, needy slut who needs her Daddy to take control and fuck the lie right out of her. Do it, Erik. Tell me how much you hate that I’m this fine. Tell me how much you want to punish me for teasing you. How much you wanna break this young pussy open—”
He couldn’t bring himself to lift her ass off his lap. He could have her on her back in seconds. Folded. Pinned. But he couldn’t move. Erik couldn’t.
“Aw…Killmonger don’t talk now? This all that death name come with?”
Erik’s eyes were like missiles aimed at her. Dark pools of primal energy. But the way his brows pinched. The way his lips poked out. The shaky exhale. He was close.
He stopped letting her do all the work. Erik moved, his powerful thighs flexing as he began to thrust upward, meeting her downward grinds with a punishing force. Now they were humping each other, a frantic collision of cloth and flesh. The friction was intense, the desire between them building into a fever pitch.
Sanaa leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear, her breath hot and erratic. She let out a muffled moan, trying to stay quiet but failing as the pressure on her clit became unbearable.
“Oh god, daddy…that big dick feel so fucking good against me,” she whimpered into his ear, her voice a seductive poison designed to ruin him. “I’m so happy…I finally have the dick I’ve always dreamed of. I don’t want that other shit. I want this…I want your big, thick dick stretching me out until I can’t walk.”
Erik let out a guttural grunt, burying his face in the crook of her neck, his teeth grazing her skin. He was shaking, his muscles coiled like a spring, the sheer audacity of her words pushing him to the absolute edge. He gripped her waist even tighter, lifting her slightly so he could slam his bulge upward into her pussy with a heavy, calculated impact that made her vision blur. His face contorted into a mask of pure, unfiltered need. A look Sanaa began to crave ever since she rode his dick. Those lips parted. His eyes tracking every flicker of pleasure on her face. His locs framing his jaw, giving him a rugged look. Then he sank his teeth into his lower lip.
The friction between them is pushed them both to the edge. Their mouths locked in a filthy, wet collision, tongues tangling and fighting for dominance as they kiss like freaks, swapping saliva and breath in a frantic battle. Every slide of their bodies, every press of cloth against cloth, only heightens the agony of the barrier between them.
Sanaa breaks the kiss just a fraction, her lips still brushing against his, her breath hitching. “Please...Killmonger," she whispers, her voice a broken, needy wreck. “Make me cum. Please make my pussy cum.”
Erik answers with force. His large, calloused hands snap shut around her hips, fingers digging into her skin to still her frantic movements. He takes total control, repositioning his weight to align his thick, stiff dick perfectly against her clit. He gives one heavy, punishing grind, the sheer size of his dick pressing through the fabric and crushing into her sensitive nub. The way his biceps flexed and his thick forearms corded with veins maneuvered and controlled Sanaa’s little frame over his dick made her feel small and fragile. She had no choice but to give in, bracing herself on his shoulders.
Sanaa lets out a muffled cry, her face buried against his neck while he palms her ass cheeks, squeezing the flesh tight and forcing her to grind down hard against him. He’s not letting her just ride the wave, he’s driving her into it. He forces her hips to rotate, ensuring every inch of his length rubs against her, the friction creating a searing heat that makes her vision blur.
“That's it, lil’ freak bitch.” Erik groans, the sound vibrating deep in his chest as she buries her face in the crook of his neck, whimpering. “I’m a drag this pussy all on my dick…give you what you need…spread your legs…nah…spread ‘em…”
As he continues to grind her into him, Erik feels the pressure building in his gut, that familiar, lethal tension that signals the end. He’s too far gone, his own pleasure spiking into something aggressive and overwhelming. He leans in, his voice a low, gravelly rasp against her ear, telling her exactly what's happening.
“I’m ‘bout to bust, Sanaa. I’m right there,” he pants, his breath hot and ragged. “You makin’ me lose it. I’m ‘bout to nut all in these shorts...soak through everything just for you.”
The verbal confirmation is the final trigger. Sanaa’s walls tighten, her pussy clenching violently as a massive, shaking orgasm rips through her. She collapses against him, her body vibrating in his lap, her moans turning into breathless whimpers as she peaks.
“Damn, girl—fuuck—”
The sight and feel of her cumming sends Erik over the cliff. He erupts. The orgasm is a violent, pulsing explosion that rocks his entire frame. As the first thick jet of cum slams into the fabric of his shorts, the intensity is so sharp, so overwhelming, that he instinctively snaps his jaw shut, biting down on the meat of her shoulder to stifle the guttural roar that threatens to tear from his throat.
He holds her there, pinned and shaking, his dick twitching against her as he pumps load after load of hot, sticky cum into his shorts, the fabric becoming heavy and soaked between them. He stays buried in her neck, teeth still grazing her skin, breathing like a wounded animal while the aftershocks of the nut leave them both completely wrecked.
The friction had been relentless, a grinding war of hips and heat that left them both breathless. For a few seconds, they just breathed, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat. Then, with a playful, feline smirk, Sanaa slid off him. She didn’t longer, she simply stepped back, the wetness between her legs clinging to her shorts, and started walking away down the hallway.
Erik blinked, his chest heaving and his eyes tracking the sway of her hips. The sudden lack of her warm, wet pussy left him wired and agitated.
“Where the fu k you going?” He called out, his voice commanding and laced with a hint of disbelief.
Sanaa stopped and looked back over her shoulder, her eyes hooded and teasing, a bratty glint in her gaze. “To my room, Erik.” She answered simply, her voice a soft, provocative slur.
Erik stood and walked up on her in that hall. The tension snapped back into place instantly.
“You got me doing risky shit. I don’t move like this.” Erik whispered, looming over her like the JSOC Ghost he is.
“I’m a rare soul, Erik. You don’t just enter my life the same. That’s the kinda effect I have.” Sanaa cooed.
Sanaa leaned against the wall, her gaze dropping to the front of his shorts.
“Let me see,” she whispered, her voice dripping with curiosity.
Erik reached down, grabbing the waistband of his shorts and pulling them forward. The athletic fabric was drenched, a heavy stain of cum spreading across the inside crotch and clinging to the shape of his dick and the buzz cut of his pubic hair. Despite having just finished, he was still brick hard. A thick, veiny pipe straining against the wet fabric, twitching with a life of its own.
Sanaa’s breath hitched. The sight of his masculine power, even in the aftermath, sent a fresh jolt of arousal straight to her pussy.
“You do things to my body I can’t even shake,” Sanaa whispered with a soft sigh.
Erik stepped into her space, his large frame looming over her, erasing the distance. He reached down, his hand sliding firmly down the front of her loose shorts. He didn’t tease, he pressed his palm flat against her pussy, rubbing her soaked folds and teasing her clit. He withdrew his hand, fingers glistening and dripping with her cream. Without breaking eye contact, Erik brought his fingers to his lips, slowly sucking the mess off them, his tongue swirling around his fingers so filthy.
Sanaa whimpered, her legs turning to jelly.
Erik leaned in, crashing his lips onto hers in a kiss that tasted like her pussy. His tongue invaded her mouth with the same aggression he used in every other part of their dynamic.
Suddenly, the sound of loud laughter at the door to Aaliyah’s room broke them apart instantly, the spell shattered by the threat of discovery. Erik’s eyes darkened, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face, but his instincts kicked in. He stepped back, glancing toward the bathroom.
Go in your room.” He commanded in a low, urgent whisper.
Sanaa slipped into her room, shutting the door behind her. Erik vanished into the bathroom, leaving the hallway empty just as the door to Aaliyah’s room swung open.
______
Aaliyah’s room was a scene of girly chaos. They’d set up a makeshift hairdresser. Hair serum, edge control, moose, brushes, and Bobby pins. It also gave the cluttered energy of a college dorm. Aaliyah was draped in an oversized Howard University sweatshirt that swallows her frame, paired with tiny sleep shorts and thick, fuzzy socks that keep her toes warm. She’s sitting on the floor between Naima’s legs, watching Dream Girls on her iPad while played in the background. Naima was focused and meticulous, wearing a pair of loose pajama pants and a tight baby tee. Her fingers are nimble, weaving and Styling Aaliyah’s hair into a sleek low bun for their night out tomorrow.
The door creaks open and Sanaa slips in, radiating a fresh, clean scent. She needed another shower after cumming all in her shorts. Her skin is glowy and damp. She’s swallowed up by an oversized Mindless Behavior T-shirt that hits mid-thigh, her wilds curls gathered and held in place by a bright, hot pink claw clip. Her turquoise tortoise shell glasses are perched on the bridge of her nose, and her bare feet pad softly across the floor. She drops in the center of the room, crossing her arms and tilting her head with a look of playful suspicion.
“What ya’ll plotting in here?” She asks, her voice teasing as if she knows there’s some secret being kept.
Aaliyah laughs, glancing back at her in the mirror. “Girl, please. Naima is just trying to make sure I don’t look like a mess tomorrow. Come sit your ass down.”
Sanaa chuckles and drops onto the edge of the bed, kicking her feet back. The three of them settle into comfortable conversation, drifting through the usual chaos of campus drama—who was seen with who at the library, which professor is failing half the class, and the latest tea from the sorority row. The vibe is relaxed. That only comes with close friends.
Suddenly, the playlist on the speaker goes from soulful to ratchet. The heavy, distorted bass of “WAP” by Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion kicks in, filling the room with its aggressive, explicit energy. Aaliyah doesn’t miss a beat. She starts rapping along, her voice getting louder and more confident as the lyrics get filthier. She’s leaning into it, using her hands to emphasize the lines about wet ass pussy and doing kegels while it’s inside, her energy matching the song’s unapologetic sexuality. Then a dance breaks out. And it’s nothing but ass shaking. Aaliyah on her knees popping booty while Naima stands with a brush in her hand and her tongue poked out, bending over to shake her little cheeks.
Sanaa, seeing the opportunity for future blackmail, quietly pulls out her phone. She keeps it low, angled just right to capture Aaliyah’s passionate performance, a smirk playing on her lips as she records the whole thing.
As the song fades out, Naima looks over, noticing the phone in Sanaa's hand. “Wait, did you get that? Let me see!”
Sanaa, still riding the high of the song and not thinking twice, hands it over to Naima. Naima starts scrolling through the camera roll to find the video, but her thumb freezes. Her eyes widen, and she stops dead in her tracks. She ain’t looking at a video of Aaliyah rapping.
On the screen is a crystal-clear, explicit video of Sanaa on her knees, her eyes staring up into the camera as she greedily sucks a thick, hard dick, her cheeks hollowing as she takes as much of the shaft as she can handle. Then there’s the voice of the man that carries all that dick coaching her in the back.
Naima’s jaw drops, and she snaps her head up to look at Sanaa, her voice exploding in a mix of shock and hilarity.
“BITCH!” Naima screams, holding the phone up like a piece of evidence. “You got a video of you sucking dick in your phone?! You nasty bitch!”
“WAP” suddenly didn’t matter anymore.
Naima is frozen, her eyes glued to the screen of Sanaa’s phone. On the display, the image is raw and unmistakable. Sanaa, her head tilted back, her eyes blinking in a trance of pure pleasure, her mouth stretched wide as she greedily takes a massive, vein-riven dick into her throat. The video captures the wet, sucking sound of her lips gliding over a spit-covered dick and the way her cheeks hollow out as she sucks the thick beast.
Sanaa’s heart hammers against her ribs like a trapped bird. A cold spike of adrenaline shoots through her veins, turning her blood to ice. For a split second, she forgets where she is, her mind flashing back to the way Erik stretched her mouth for the first time. The panic hits her instantly—a visceral, choking wave. If Aaliyah sees this, it’s not just about the act; it’s about who it is.
Sanaa lunges. It’s a blur of motion, the oversized Mindless Behavior shirt fluttering around her thighs as she dives across the bed. Her fingers scramble, clawing at Naima’s grip, her breath coming in short, jagged gasps.
“Give it back! Naima, give me my damn phone!” Sanaa hisses, her voice strained and bordering on a plea. She isn’t playing anymore; the playful suspicion from earlier is replaced by a genuine, wide-eyed terror. She can’t let Aaliyah see.
Naima, caught up in the shock and the thrill of the find, holds the phone just out of reach, gawking at the screen one last time. She’s mesmerized by the filth of it, the raw sexuality of her friend being completely undone by a man’s dick.
But Sanaa is faster. With a desperate swipe, she manages to snatch the device from Naima’s hand, clutching it to her chest as if it were a lifeline. She pulls back, her chest heaving, her turquoise glasses sliding slightly down her nose.
Aaliyah is sitting still on the floor, her expression unreadable. She didn’t seen the video, but she saw the reaction. She saw the panic in Sanaa’s eyes. A look that didn’t match the confidence Sanaa usually wore like armor. Aaliyah slowly turns her head, her gaze locking onto Sanaa.
“So…” Aaliyah starts, her voice low and calculating. “Nathan was over here then?”
There is a suspicion in Aaliyah’s eyes, a silent realization that there is a side to Sanaa’s life that is far more secretive and intense than a fintech worker from Bowie could ever provide. Sanaa doesn’t respond. She can’t. Her throat feels tight, her mind racing. She just stands there, the phone still pressed against her heart, the secret of Erik Killmonger burning a hole through the screen.
Naima, sensing the tension shifting from hilarity to something more serious, rolls her eyes and waves a hand dismissively. She leans back, trying to break the spell.
“Girl, please,”Naima says, glancing at Aaliyah. “It’s just a little dick sucking. Since when did we become the morality police? How many times have we exchanged photos asking if our nudes were sexy enough to send? We all get it in. Sanaa just happened to record the evidence.”
Naima laughs, trying to bring the vibe back to the casual, sisterly bond they shared minutes ago. Sanaa slowly exhales, but she doesn’t let go of the phone.
Aaliyah giggles, the tension from a moment ago dissolving back into the easy, chaotic energy. She shakes her head, a playful smirk dancing on her lips as she watches Sanaa clutch the device. “You hanging on to that phone for dear life, girl,” Aaliyah jokes, her voice light but still carrying a hint of curiosity. “Is Nathan’s dick that big, sis?”
Naima bursts out laughing, the sound loud and unfiltered, and Aaliyah joins in, the two of them sharing a moment of sisterly mockery.
Sanaa feels the adrenaline finally begin to recede, though her heart is still drumming a frantic beat against her ribs. She knows she’s walked a razor's edge, but she’s a master of the pivot. She lets out a forced but convincing laugh, leaning back and finally loosening her grip on the phone, though she keeps it firmly tucked away.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” Sanaa quips, her voice regaining that bratty, confident edge.
Aaliyah’s eyes widen, her jaw nearly dropping. “SINCE WHEN?” she exclaims, leaning forward. “Since when did you become the vault? Give us the tea!”
Naima, ever the instigator and still buzzing from the visual she just witnessed on the screen, clears her throat loudly. She looks at Aaliyah with a look of pure revelation. “Well, if you must know, Liyah...the dick Sanaa was sucking is fucking HUGE—”
“Girl, hush!” Sanaa cuts her off sharply, her voice a mix of a laugh and a command. She can’t let Naima describe the sheer, vein-riven scale of Erik’s dick to his sister! No. No, no, no, no way. Quick as a flash, Sanaa scans the room for a distraction, her eyes landing on the nightstand. A mischievous glint enters her eyes as she spots a familiar shape and the crisp, fresh look of the bedding.
“Can we change the subject?” Sanaa asks, her tone shifting to one of playful accusation. “Like, why is your rose vibrator just sitting out in the open? And why the hell do I see brand new bed sheets?”
The room goes dead silent. The laughter vanishes instantly, replaced by a heavy, awkward stillness. Naima and Aaliyah freeze, exchanging a wide-eyed, look that speaks volumes. They don’t say a word, their silence acting as a loud, vibrating confession.
Sanaa looks between the two of them, a triumphant grin spreading across her face. She lets out a loud, knowing laugh, leaning in with a smirk. “It’s no secret y’all been bumping coochies—”
“SHUT UP, BRI!” Naima and Aaliyah scream in perfect unison, their faces flushing a deep shade of red.
The absurdity of the moment breaks the dam, and all three girls collapse into a fit of hysterical laughter, the secret of the video momentarily buried under the weight of the new, scandalous revelation. Sanaa laughs the hardest, feeling the thrill of the diversion, though in the back of her mind, she can still feel the ghost of Erik’s dominance, knowing that while she’s laughing with her friends, she belongs to a man who would ruin her for even thinking about sharing him.
The thoughts that ran through her mind…
“Just let him hit it once…just once…” “I bet he’d talk me through it…say all that nasty shit while I cum on him…” “He probably strokes slow, deep…makes you say thank you when he nut…” “That dick would make me cry…and I’d say thank you for it.” “Please, Erik…please fuck me…”
To actually live in that reality now was an understatement.
The only thing missing…is “I wonder if he can make me squirt?”
The sound of footsteps through the hallway immediately made Sanaa’s pulse spike.
Erik stepped into the doorway, filling the frame with his massive presence. He looked effortless but lethal, dressed in a matching grey hoodie and sweats that left the hard, expansive lines of his muscles to your imagination. His locs were tucked neatly beneath the hood, framing a face that looked tired but remained intensely focused. A black duffle bag was slung carelessly over one shoulder, his weight shifted onto one leg, sporting a fresh pair of Jordans.
“Ya’ll eat yet?” he asked, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that seemed to vibrate in Sanaa's chest. “Cuz I was thinkin’ ‘bout orderin’ in.”
“Yes! We got food already. Some pizza.” Aaliyah said.
“I just ate that leftover chicken and rice we made earlier in the week.” Sanaa replied.
“Bet,” Erik’s eyes scanned the room. “You don’t clean up in here at all, do you?”
Sanaa was frozen, her turquoise glasses sliding slightly down her nose as her eyes dragged over him with hunger. She traced the breadth of his shoulders, the way the grey fabric stretched across his chest, and the sheer size of him compared to the room. She felt a familiar, hot ache bloom between her thighs, her pussy clenching just at the sight of him.
Naima, always the curious one, leaned forward, her eyes scanning the glimpses of rugged skin peeking from his collar. “Erik, what do those scars actually mean? Like, where’d they come from?”
Aaliyah let out a short, knowing laugh, leaning back against her pillows. “Don't bother, Nai. He won’t tell you. He’s too mysterious for his own good.”
Erik’s lips quirked into a sharp, knowing smirk. He didn’t even look at Naima, his gaze was locked onto Sanaa, pinning her in place. “What she said,” he spoke, his voice dripping with a playful, dangerous confidence.
He turned to leave, but he didn’t just walk away. He began backing down the hall, keeping his eyes locked on Sanaa’s. The moment he was far enough that the other girls weren’t focused on him, the energy changed from familial to filthy.
Erik slowed his pace, his expression darkening. He slowly flicked his tongue over his top lip, a wet motion that told Sanaa exactly what he wanted to do to her. Then, with a slow, calculated movement, he reached down and gripped the hem of his grey hoodie.
He lifted the fabric, pulling it up high enough to reveal the sculpted, rock-hard terrain of his stomach and the deep, V-taper of his hips. The sight of his scarred skin and the power of his core made Sanaa gasp silently. Tucked firmly into the waistband of his sweats was the matte black grip of a pistol, the weapon adding a raw, dangerous edge to his sexuality that sent a shiver of pure arousal straight to her clit.
He held the pose for a heartbeat, letting her soak in the image of his strength and his lethality, before letting the hoodie drop. As he reached the corner of the hall, he didn't say a word. He simply mouthed two words, his eyes burning into hers:
“C’mere.”
Sanaa felt her heart hammering against her ribs. She wanted to bolt from the room, to throw herself onto him and feel that heavy weight pinning her down, but she was trapped between Naima and Aaliyah.
Trembling, she grabbed her phone and shot him a quick text.
Sanaa: why you always doing this to me 😩
A second later, she saw him stop. Erik looked at his phone, then looked back at her. He let out a sharp “tsk,” kissing his teeth in a gesture of pure, exaggerated annoyance. He gave her a look—one part disappointed daddy, one part ruthless conqueror—that was so intensely focused on her defiance that it almost made her laugh out loud.
Her phone buzzes.
Erik: Don’t think I ain’t see you come out that shower earlier without a bra. You do that shit on purpose, huh?
She bites her lip.
Sanaa: I’m cold. Maybe you should come warm me up.
Erik: I’d fuck the warmth back into you right now. Two fingers in while I suck on that pretty mouth. You’d try to keep quiet, wouldn’t you?
She exhales slow, adjusts her position.
Sanaa: Wouldn’t last a minute. I get loud for you. You know that.
Erik: That pussy get loud too. Keep talking and I’m a take my phone to the bathroom and beat this dick thinking about how you creamed on me earlier.
Her thighs press together. Her phone buzzes again.
Erik: You dripping right now? Tell me the truth.
Sanaa: Ruined my panties twenty minutes ago. Wanna see?
He shifts in the hallway. Back against the wall. Adjusts his joggers. Keeps a straight face. He didn’t argue. He just gave her one last, lingering look that promised a very heavy price for her disobedience before he disappeared into her room, leaving Sanaa drenched and anxious for the retaliation she knew was coming.
Sanaa lingered in Aaliyah’s room for a while longer. Every time she glanced down the hall, she could still feel the ghost of Erik’s gaze on her, the mental image of that matte black pistol against his skin and the way he’d flicked his tongue over his lip burned into her mind. Her pussy was throbbing, a heavy, insistent ache that made it hard to focus on whatever Naima was saying.
Eventually, the heat became too much to ignore. With a playful excuse about needing to wind down, Sanaa finally slid out of the room. As she walked down the hall, she passed the spot where Erik had stood, imagining the scent of him still clinging to the walls. Oud, clove, and something woodsy. Expensive and dark. He doesn’t spray it heavy but it lingers. On pillows. On shirts.
Once inside her own room, she shut the door and leaned against it for a second, letting out a shaky breath. She stripped off her T-shirt with hurried movements, her skin tingling. She slid into her bed, the cool sheets a sharp contrast to the feverish warmth of her body. She pulled on her silk bonnet, tucking her curls away, and sprawled out across the mattress.
She lay there in the silence, staring up at the ceiling, her mind racing. She could still feel the phantom pressure of his dominance, the way he’d mouthed “C’mere” with that look of absolute ownership. She rolled her hips, rubbing her thighs together, the friction sending a jolt of electricity straight to her clit. She was trapped in a state of agonizing anticipation, knowing that Erik was just a few walls away, likely thinking about exactly how he was going to punish her for saying I can’t.
There was a distinct click of a door closing. It was Aaliyah’s door.
Sanaa froze, her breath hitching in her throat. The sound signaled that the coast was clear. The barrier between her and Erik had just vanished, and the sudden silence of the apartment felt like a countdown.
Buzz buzz
Erik: You in your room?
She didn’t reply. Just smirked. Another buzz.
Erik: I’ma slide over
Then a soft knock. Real soft.
Sanaa tiptoed to the door and cracked it, whispering, “Aaliyah still awake.”
“I know,” Erik said, already stepping in.
He didn’t push the door open hard, just eased through it like a shadow, shutting it with barely a click. The room was dark, save for the TV glow across her bed.
“Why you lookin’ like that?” he asked, eyes dragging over her titties and the peaks of her nipples. Then lower, to those cheeky, red panties that didn’t even pretend to cover her ass.
Sanaa curled her lip. “Like what?”
“Like you wanted me to see all that.”
She walked backward to the bed, slow. “Where you been at with a gun?” she teased.
He followed. “Out.”
“Why you can’t tell me?” Sanaa said with a pout.
Erik exhaled, “Gun range. This…hidden spot I go to when I’m in town to get a few rounds in.”
Sanaa smirks. “Can you take me next time?”
Erik gives her a stern look. “No.”
Sanaa rolls her eyes. “I been here thinking about how you made me cum in my shorts earlier.”
“I see that,” he whispered, eyes dropping to her thighs. “You take that big ass T-shirt off ‘cause you knew I was coming over.”
She smirked, pulled one leg onto the bed. “So?”
Erik just stared at her for a long moment. Then he crossed the room and leaned over her, both palms pressing into the mattress, caging her in. That scent hit her—cologne, leather, and a little sweat. His lips brushed hers. Then deeper. Tongue and spit. His kiss stole the air right out her lungs. A kiss that tasted like he missed her even if he just saw her minutes ago.
Erik pulled back just enough to whisper, “I came to taste somethin’ sweeter than attitude.”
Sanaa bit her lip, thighs squeezing together out of reflex.
“Get up,” he said low.
She blinked. “Huh?”
“Sit on the edge. Bring them knees up.”
The tone in his voice? Left no room for play.
Sanaa did what he said, backing up and sitting on the edge of her bed. She brought her feet up beside her, knees wide open. Those panties pulled tight, then gave way, pussy peeking through and sitting fat.
Erik sucked in a breath. “Damn, mama…”
He dropped to his knees like it was second nature. Big hands gripping her thighs, thumbs spreading her open like he’d done it a hundred times. He curled his fingers into the side of her panties and pulled them to the side. Her pussy lips slipped out with a jiggle. The amount of wet slick that clung to her fat lips and the crotch of her panties?
Erik didn’t waste a fucking second.
Sanaa gasped the second his mouth met her. Tongue warm. Wet. Slipping between those folds like he knew exactly where she needed it. Those lips?!
Oh my Goddddddddddddd
“Oh—shit. Erik…” she whispered, hands gripping her sheets.
He groaned against her, licking deep, slow. Then fast. Then back slow again. That slurp and the smack of his lips filled the room, nasty beneath the TV noise. His hands hooked behind her thighs, holding them wide as he buried his mouth in her. Sucked on her clit until her whole body bucked.
“You hear me?” he growled against her pussy, lips wet with her. “Don’t make a fuckin’ sound.”
Her hand flew up, covering her mouth. She was shaking. Moaning behind her palm. Eyes rolling. Erik was sucking on her pussy like a hungry fucking beast. Sanaa didn’t know what felt so different this time around. But the sucking and licking had her feeling like she was gonna burst. Her stomach fluttered.
But then it hit.
A tightness that started at the base of her spine. Crawled through her belly. Her thighs trembled.
“Erik—baby—wait—wait.”
“Nope,” he grunted, licking harder, faster. Sucking.
She tried to close her legs. He shoved them back open.
“Don’t fight it,” he said, voice deep and ragged. “Let it go.”
Her stomach seized. Eyes squeezed shut. Her mouth opened in a silent cry behind her fingers as it happened.
A rush. Warm and wet. A sudden gush that poured out of her, all over his mouth. Her thighs. The edge of the bed.
“Oh my God—” she gasped, embarrassed, stunned.
Erik didn’t stop. He licked her through it, eyes locked on her, tongue curling and dragging and sucking up everything she gave him. He loved that shit. Loved how she fell apart.
Loved how she tried to hold it in.
Sanaa was shaking when he finally slowed down, licking her clean with long, slow strokes. Her panties were ruined. Her bonnet was crooked. Her chest was heaving.
He kissed up the inside of her thigh and looked up, smirking. “Next time, don’t wait up for me,” he said, wiping his mouth. “Just lay here and get ready.”
Her eyes were glassy. Her legs still open.
“And Sanaa?”
“Yeah…?”
“You taste even better when you squirt.”
Erik left her sitting on the edge of the bed stunned.
1:35 A.M.
She couldn’t sleep.
The sheets were still damp at the edge. Her thighs sticky. Her pussy pulsing like it had a heartbeat of its own. Every time she moved, she felt the aftershock of its that warm gush, that thick wet mess Erik pulled out of her like it was nothing. Like her body had always been capable of that, but nobody ever took the time to find it. Nobody ever made her feel that good. That open. Now? She wanted it again. Her pussy ached for it. Throbbed hot and twitching like it remembered his tongue and missed it bad. She pressed her hand between her legs, trying to soothe it, but it wasn’t the same. Her fingers weren’t wide enough, strong enough, dirty enough. Her mouth went dry thinking about how Erik looked after. Wet beard, greedy tongue, hands keeping her wide like she belonged to him.
Sanaa bit her lip and grabbed her phone.
Sanaa: You up?
She barely had time to blink before her door eased open.
Erik stepped in shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Heavy-shouldered. Locs loose and swinging with the motion of his body.
“You text me like that,” he said, voice low and scratchy. “You already know what I’m comin’ in here for.”
She pulled the covers back, heart in her throat. Fresh pair of panties on but still no T-shirt.
“I been thinkin’ about it,” she admitted, cheeks warm. “What you did to me.”
His eyes dropped between her legs. “You want it again.”
She nodded.
He stepped close, leaned down, lips grazing hers without kissing. “You gon’ stop runnin’ from it this time?”
“I ain’t run.”
He smirked, dimple peeking. “You tried.”
And before she could sass him again, he was pulling her new panties off—slick with fresh arousal—and crawling onto the bed like a man starved. She didn’t even have time to get nervous. To prepare for that feeling as if a pipe was set to burst behind her navel. He laid her flat, bent her knees, and pulled her thighs apart like pages in a book he already knew how to read. Then he started like he never stopped.
Again.
Tongue warm. Mouth wide. Slurping. Sucking. Spelling his damn name in cursive across her pussy. Sanaa gasped, back arching, fingers smoothing down his keloid-laden arms, eyes focused on the top of his head. His cross chain was cold and tickling her ass from how low he was between her legs.
Her pussy was soaked. Dripping. He loved that. Erik fucking loved it.
“Yeah,” he groaned, lapping her up. “You already close, huh?”
She whined. “Erik, please—”
“You don’t need to beg,” he said, voice thick and sweet between licks. “Just don’t run from it this time.”
She tried to breathe. She tried to brace. But the pressure built faster now. Her body recognized it. Started chasing it before she even meant to.
“Ohmygod—Erik—I’m—wait—wait—”
He didn’t wait.
He locked his arms under her thighs, anchored her to his face and ate her like a goddamn meal. His mouth sealed around her clit and sucked. The way he sucked, it felt like he was drawing the liquid from her through a straw.
H-H-How is he d-d-doing that?
That was it.
Her stomach tightened. Her toes curled. And then—
Splash.
Another rush.
Thicker this time. Wetter. Her thighs shook hard as the gush poured out of her, soaking his face, the sheets, everything. She gasped, stunned. Whimpering. But Erik didn’t come up for air. He licked through it, drank it, then started again. And when he started again, he sank two thick fingers in her pussy and curled his finger tips upward.
Squelchsquelchsquelchsquelch—
Sanaa tried to squirm.
“Stay still.”
“Erik—it’s too much—”
“You gon’ take it ‘til your body stop bein’ scared of how good this feel.”
And he kept going.
She whimpered—biting her pillow this time—pussy throbbing like it was addicted now. That orgasm came quicker, stronger. Another messy release that made her whimper and twitch.
He made her do it.
Again.
And again.
By the time he finally pulled back, Sanaa was breathless. Legs trembling. Sheets drenched. Her mouth open but no words coming out.
Erik kissed her thigh. Smirked. “You mine,” he said, voice hoarse, chin hair and mustache soaked. “Ain’t nobody ever gonna eat this pussy like I do. Especially not that lil’ nigga.”
She nodded slow, dazed.
And in the back of her mind, she already knew. She’d be texting him tomorrow night.
pairing: boyfriend!cameron cade x black!fem!reader
synopsis: after Cameron Cade returns from a week of “training” with Isaiah White, you immediately sense something is wrong as he steps through the door.
warnings MDNI: smut, some angst, psychological distress, trauma implications, aligns with the plot of ‘HIM (2025)’, dark romance undertones, possessiveness, swearing, dom!cam, dirty talk, fingering, oral (f!receiving), he be talking you through ittt 😛
a/n: hi babies!! this is my first time writing smut on tumblr so im def open for some constructive criticism. hope you all enjoy it!
you hear the door unlock before you see him.
for seven days straight, you’ve been checking your phone constantly — waiting for even one text. Cameron swore he’d call after his first night at Isaiah White’s training camp (or whatever the fuck it was), but the only updates you saw were those sterile team posts:
“CAMERON CADE — LOCKED IN WITH HIS EYES ON THE PRIZE.”
there was nothing from him. not even a “good morning.”
part of you wanted to be upset, but all of it vanished when he finally steps inside; you freeze.
he looks bigger. shoulders tense, jaw clenched, eyes sharp like he hadn’t slept and had been running on nothing but fumes and discipline alone.
he sets his bag down.
doesn’t say your name.
doesn’t greet you at the door.
he just stands there, his gaze stuck to his shoes meeting the familiar ‘Welcome’ mat.
“Cam?” you whisper.
his head snaps up — too fast, his gaze hitting you like a spotlight. And for a second, he looks like he’s trying to place you. not because he’s forgotten who you were, but because of the realization of his forgotten softness.
he exhales — long and heavy — before stepping inside.
“…hey,” he mutters, voice low, almost unrecognizable. “I’m home.”
the tone is… off. cold and guarded, it startles you.
you move to hug him, and he freezes, but as your arms wrap around his torso, it hits him.
you hit him. and everything inside him unravels all at once.
he doesn’t need to be on guard anymore. he doesn’t need to have the weight of violence and death on his shoulders. he just needs you.
“damn. I missed you.” he mumbles, taking in your scent, his hold on you comforting, yet possessive; almost predatory.
you frown at his confession as you feel the tension coil through him. “baby.. what happened?”
his grip hardens instantly. “don’t,” he says, not raised, but final. “I’m not talking about that.”
“Cameron, you were gone—”
“you think I don’t know that?” his jaw flexes, eyes flashing with something dark. “I don’t wanna talk about that shit.”
he pulls back just enough to look at you — eyes shadowed, unreadable, something sharp flickering behind them. not at you, but at the memory. at the week he refuses to drag into the room with you.
then his hand slides to your waist, fingers curling in a way that’s both tender and possessive.
“I’m home,” he says quietly. “so stop askin’ me about someplace I’m done with.”
you swallow. “so you really not gon’ tell me anything?”
“no.” his voice is a low promise. “what happened there ain’t for you to carry.”
the way he says it makes your skin prickle — protective, yet territorial; guarding you from something he doesn’t trust himself to explain.
and for some odd reason, it turns you on.
“Cam—”
he steps forward, forcing your back gently against the wall, crowding your space, eyes locked on yours.
“I’m serious,” he whispers. “let it go.”
his thumb traces your jaw, slow, almost reverent.
“but you?” he breathes with a smirk, leaning in until his lips brush the curve of your cheek, “I’m glad you’re mine to come back to. I’m not lettin’ you go.”
“…I missed you,” he continues, voice dipping darker, “in ways I ain’t even proud of.”
his forehead rests against yours, heavy with need. “whole damn week, you were the only thing keepin’ me from losin’ it.”
his finger trails down your throat possessively as he wraps his fingers around your neck.
“you wanna know the truth?” he murmurs, mouth dangerously close, “if they kept me one more day, I would’ve killed everyone and walked away from all of it. for you.”
his lips hover over yours, breath slow, controlled… barely.
“you’re not going anywhere,” his voice a gravelly order. “not tonight. not after the week I’ve had.”
his lips crash into yours, immediately stealing your breath and making your knees soften, making him smirk against your lips.
he groans into the kiss and presses his body against yours. “you missed me, baby?” he whispers, breaking the kiss.
his thumb drags slowly across your lower lip, tracing it like he’s memorizing the shape all over again. the touch is gentle, but the look in his eyes isn’t. it’s focused, hungry, reverent in a way that borders on obsession.
you open your mouth to respond, but his thumb stills on your lips.
“nah, I don’t wanna hear it. I wanna see it.”
his hand slides from your throat to your hip, his grip firm, anchoring you.
“did you even think about touching yourself while i was gone? or did you wait for me?”
you gasp as his fingers push against your entrance. his hand deep in your panties.
his voice drops to a whisper, almost reverent. “fuck…look at how wet you are.” his fingers press deeper, a reward and a punishment. “my good girl.”
his lips on your neck match the pace of his fingers moving inside of you — hot, slow, purposeful — his other hand reaching for one of your thighs and pulling it up to his waist, his fingers curling impossibly deeper inside of you.
his breath hitches against your neck, his rhythm faltering for just a second as he feels how perfectly you take him in.
“every time I thought about you this week, I imagined this. how you feel. how you sound.”
his thumb finds your clit, applying a slow deliberate pressure that makes you arch against the wall. “tell me you imagined this too. my fingers fucking you like this, hm? not yours. never yours.”
he increased the pace of his fingers, a sharp contrast to his soft words. and while the curl of his fingers was enough to make you see stars, the low familiar voice in your ear sent you over the edge.
his voice is a low murmur right against your ear, the words vibrating through you.
“cmon on, baby. come for me. only for me.”
the world narrows to the heat of his body, the scent of his skin, the relentless pressure of his fingers. every coherent thought shatters.
it’s too much and not enough all at once, a dizzying spiral that starts deep in your core and threatens to pull you completely apart.
the only thing holding you together is the sound of his voice, a familiar anchor in the overwhelming sensation.
his name is a broken prayer on your lips as you come, your body convulsing against his hand.
he doesn't stop, drawing out your climax until you're trembling and oversensitive, his touch becoming almost cruel in its gentleness.
“yeahhh, that right there, baby. that shit is mine.”
as the aftershocks still ripple through you, he slowly withdraws his fingers. his touch is almost clinical now, a stark contrast to the intimacy of a moment ago.
he brings his wet fingers to his lips, his eyes locked on yours as he tastes you. “ ‘s pussy tastes so good… I want some more. you gon give it to me?”
you nod, your voice catching in your throat. “mhm..” it’s all you can manage. the word feels too small for the surrender he's asking for.
then he smiles, nice and slow. his hands slide from your hips to the backs of your thighs, pushing them apart with an unnerving calm. “now keep still for me.”
he doesn't wait for another response. his mouth is on you, and it's not gentle. it’s claiming, desperate, like he's trying to consume the very memory of the week apart.
the sensation is immediate and overwhelming — a sharp, wet heat that makes you gasp and your fingers scramble against the wall for purchase.
he groans against you, the vibration shooting straight to your core, and you realize this isn't just about pleasure. It's an inspection. a reconfirmation of his ownership.
his tongue is relentless, a flat, wet pressure that circles your clit with a precision that feels like it was practiced in his mind all week. it’s too much, too soon after your first climax, a fresh wave of sensation that borders on pain.
you should push him away. this isn’t the Cam who used to worship you slowly, who’d check in with whispered “you okay?”s and sweet nothings to coax you towards your orgasm. but your hands just fist in his hair, holding him closer.
the contradiction is terrifying. Your body arches off the wall, a silent plea for more even as your mind screams a warning. this is different. he’s different.
and as you look down at him, you see the difference.
‘You don’t look like Him.’ you thought.
he’s an entirely different person right now, and the worst part? you like it. you like the sharp edge in his devotion, the way his possessiveness feels less like a cage and more like a claim.
a broken sob escapes you, part pleasure, part fear, wholly his.
he pulls back just enough to look up at you, his lips glistening, his breathing ragged.
“see? I knew it. you don’t need that gentle shit. was worried you wouldn’t fuck with it...”
he presses a sloppy kiss on your clit.
“but I should’ve known better. you’ll take anything I give you.”
his words hit you with the force of a physical blow, confirming your deepest fear and your darkest desire in one breath.
you can't form words, only a high, thin whine that seems to encourage him once his mouth latches onto you again. his hands dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, holding you open, ensuring you can't escape as he swallows every drop of your orgasm.
he rises to his feet, his chest still heaving and looks down at you, slumped and trembling against the wall, and something in his expression softens for a fraction of a second.
his thumb brushes a stray tear from your cheek.
“a week.” his voice is hoarse. “a whole fucking week without hearing you.”
he leans his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as if the memory is physically painful.
“do you have any idea what that did to me?”
He leans his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. “they took my phone. I almost lost my damn mind.”
you waste no time pulling him into another hug, the embrace full of vulnerability and honesty. your voice barely a whisper.
“I’m right here, Cameron. I’m not going anywhere.”
summary: the one where cameron shows you how you deserve to be treated.
word count: ~9k (oops?)
pairing: dom!cameron cade x black!sub!reader
warnings: 18+!!! kind of a slow burn, subdrop, d/s dynamics, subspace, angst, smut, weed smoking, friends to lovers, hints to reader being plus size, dacryphilia, degradation, aftercare, vulgarity, smacking/impact play, oral sex (both receiving)
a/n: i was going through subdrop while writing this and just needed some comfort so enjoy!
—————
An abyss.
That’s what this felt like.
A chasm so deep that when you looked up, you could see stars in the sky in the middle of the day.
You were suspended in thick matter, like glue. This made it hard to get out.
“Aftercare isn’t real”
The words repeat in your head like a mantra.
But it is real. There’s just something about guys wanting to play the dominant role and forgetting how vital aftercare is at the end of a scene.
The sex was good, but the dopamine crash wasn’t worth it.
You trust a guy enough to play but once they feel they’ve scored, the entire dominant act ends. They get their fix and suddenly they’re a different person. Cold and short before they leave you there to clean yourself up.
No reassurance. No soothing.
Just… nothing.
The names they used to degrade you feel like scarlet letters on your chest, everlasting brandings that others can see.
Your phone rang for the 7th time in the past hour but you can’t move your arm just an inch over to grab it, lift it and hit the green button, let alone have an entire conversation.
Your screen goes black once again and it feels like a weight off your already exhausted shoulders. Except it lights up again and it feels like an elephant sitting on your chest.
You lie on your side and stare at the wall ahead, not even taking the fraction of a second to see it was your best friend calling.
Cameron Cade, the famous football player who also dabbles in the BDSM scene. You two met at a club, both of you just getting a feel for the scene and finding comfort in each other as newbies.
But Cameron was a natural at this. He earned his stripes and many desired to get him as theirs but they never got past a few play sessions with him.
Cameron has had many good times with subs. You hear whispers in the clubs about just how good he is but you? You can only hope to find a Dom as good as him.
“Bunny! I know you see me calling you what the hell is go-,”
Cameron’s voice startled you but you were so stuck that you couldn’t even flinch, the only thing your body could do to acknowledge the shock is make your stomach flip, making you nauseous.
“Bun?” You see his figure step into your room but you can’t move.
When he crouched down on the other side of the bed to face you, his eyes met yours. You can’t process the emotions in his, but he certainly can in yours.
“Please don’t tell me-,”
“It’s happening again,” you confirm without him explicitly saying it.
“Bun, I told you. These guys out here aren’t-”
“Real” you finish for him again, “They aren’t real Doms.”
This has happened more than Cameron would like to acknowledge. He takes his role seriously and it pisses him off that people claim this title just to hurt people in the end.
“How long have you been like this?”
“Don’t know.” your throat is dry, causing your voice to crack. Time isn’t a thing to you right now.
“Bunny-“
“Don’t call me that right now,” suddenly your voice is hard as stone.
Bunny.
Cameron always called you that, even when you two were nothing but a pair of rookies under the red lights of the club sipping cranberry juice through cocktail straws.
It kind of just stuck and it became your sub persona. You figured using the name he coined for you would make you feel closer to him, even when the gold chains that dangled in your face weren’t his.
“C’mon, we’re going for a drive.” It wasn’t a question, it was a declaration to let you know you didn’t have an option.
Your eyes met his, he noticed just how hollow yours were, it made his stomach ache.
He’s tired of people fucking around with his Bunny. He’d watch for your enemies and those who hurt you, to let them know they contend with him.
“Help me?” Your voice is shot and tired. You didn’t have to ask, you knew Cameron would pull the mountain of blankets back and help you up.
You’re lifted with ease (he always took pride in how much he could bench) and carried to the bathroom where he sits you on the counter. He grabs your mouth wash off the counter, filling up the little cup and holding it to your lips.
The gesture is so sweet and you’re not sure if he’s aware of just how much you crave this from him all the time.
When you’re done swishing, your back bends to spit it down the drain. Next, he hands you your tooth brush, bristles dressed in toothpaste. While you brush your teeth, he wets a cotton pad with a cleansing toner to carefully swipe across your face.
Then it’s your bonnet he takes off with care, moisturizing your scalp and hair to give it some life before covering it with a shower cap.
When you’re done he turns the shower on for you, steam immediately filling the room.
“Take all the time you need, I’ll be right out here then we can get going, yeah?”
He pulls you in for a tight embrace, his cologne flooding your nose. It’s a scent of comfort, a smell that relaxes your nervous system because wherever this smell is, it means Cameron is near.
You take your time in the shower. Letting the hot water disintegrate your fears and worries. When you emerge from the bathroom, Cameron is sitting on the edge of your bed with your comfort clothes laid out.
Baggy sweatpants, an oversized burgundy hoodie with his number on it and some fuzzy socks.
He gives you your privacy to go sit in the living room, continuing to wait.
Before you know it, you’re in his passenger seat, cruising the back roads of town until he pulls into a field. Cameron digs in the glove compartment for the blunts he rolled just before he came over.
He pushes his seat back, reclining slightly to get comfortable and you follow suit.
It doesn’t take long for the car to fill up with smoke. Tinashe playing in the background as you exhale.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He does a quick French inhale before passing the blunt back to you.
You don’t answer right away, inhaling the smoke into your lungs, holding it there until you can’t anymore.
“He said aftercare isn’t real” another inhale as you sink into your seat passing it back to Cameron, muttering a small “I’m done” to signal that you’ve reached a spot where you’re comfortably high.
“What a fucking cuck,” Cameron spits. He can’t count how many times on both his hands and feet the number of fake doms he’s had to call out for shit like this.
Pushing subs to their limits just to leave them to their own devices when the scene is over. It makes him sick. He’s stood up for subs who were strangers, subs he’s played with in the past, new or seasoned- he didn’t play that shit.
The scene is a safe space for so many, a getaway from the real world and it fills him with rage to know people are infiltrating something he respects down to his marrow. Weaseling their way in just to get a quick fuck from people who are entrusting their play partner with their mind, body and soul.
He’s furious to know it’s happening to his Bunny.
It’s been years since you two have met, growing alongside each other. Talking, learning and bonding.
Your bond reaches a level so deep that many think he is yours and you’re his.
If only.
“Can I be truthful?” You glance over at him, that sinking feeling coming back to your stomach.
“You can always be 110 with me, you know that.” His hand rests on your thigh, he’s trying to be helpful but the act sends goosebumps across your body.
“Promise me that no matter what I say… no matter what I tell you, that you’re gonna stick around.”
He chuckles, eyes low and brows scrunching together. His smile is so goofy when he’s high, it usually calms you down but this was serious.
“Girl, what? You can’t get rid of me that ea-“
“Cameron, promise me. Please.”
The atmosphere changes. Suddenly it seems as if you’re sitting in dead silence, like the r&b isn’t bleeding from the speakers.
“I..? Yeah. Yeah I promise.” He stuttered but he wasn’t lying. Cameron says it all the time, you can’t get rid of him.
But that’s the problem.
That sentiment is exactly why you’re here.
You see the blunt is still lit between his fingers. You snatch it from his grasp and take one more big inhale to give yourself the courage, trying to coax your anxiety to calm down for once.
His forehead is scrunched in a frown, slowly taking the blunt back from you, taking one more hit himself.
“Talk to me.” Worry lying beneath his tone.
You open your mouth many times to speak but nothing comes out. The two sides of your mind playing tug of war. The words want to come out, they need to come out but there is a tight lasso reeling them back in.
“It’s okay,” he encourages.
“I… Isaidyourname.” The words come out too fast and jumbled together for Cameron’s high state to comprehend.
“What?” His eyes scan your face, trying to make sense of it all.
“During my last scene I…,” The cotton mouth makes this so much harder, “I said your name.”
Cameron stared at you, giving many blinks until a lightbulb went off in his head.
“Is that why the fucker didn’t perform aftercare?”
“I’m not sure why he didn’t, I just… he just didn’t.”
Cam is quick to put the blunt out, cracking the window just a tad to clear the smoke, figuratively and literally. You bit your lip so hard you started to taste the metallic crimson on your tongue.
“Stop doing that,” Cameron reached over to gently pull your lip from between your teeth, “You hurt yourself when you do that.”
See? This is exactly why you cried his name that night.
He is a natural and makes it so easy for you to slip.
“Do you want to talk about why you said my name or do you want to leave it at that?”
His voice was so soft and his eyes didn’t shy away from yours.
“Ever since the day I met you, Cam.” You shake your head and look out your window as the tears start to flow, hiccuping due to your lungs needing air, “I have tried to replicate that feeling over and over again. I tried to make it tangible but…”
“No one can make you feel the way I do,” His index finger and thumb grip your chin to gently turn your face back to him, "C'mon Bunny, don’t cry.”
“It’s embarrassing!” Your tears stuck to your eyelashes, making it difficult to see, “God, you’re my best friend and-,”
“I make you feel safe.”
You two had a habit of finishing each other’s sentences. How cliche, but that’s just how you two were from the beginning.
“So fucking safe,” you started to snivel and Cam’s heart broke with every drop of a tear, “Every mutter of your name from other subs at the parties… it fills me with so much envy and rage and I feel so selfish for wishing it was me. I’ve always wanted it to be me.”
Cameron doesn’t speak, he’s always like a sponge in moments like this. Soaking in your words to understand instead of responding just to speak.
“This isn’t the subdrop speaking, I mean, it is but this has been building overtime and after saying your name I just couldn’t hold it in anymore and I can’t lose you-“
“You’re never gonna lose me,”
He couldn’t tell if your eyes were red from smoking beyond your limits or from crying but he didn’t like it.
“You’re always going to be my Bunny.”
It was in that moment you really looked and relaxed in his warm gaze. Just his tone alone lets you know that he had skin in this game.
My Bunny… he said my Bunny.
Claiming you for himself.
“I think you knew deep down that you always had me wrapped around your finger,” The pad of his thumb swipes a tear away, “I was at your every beck and call. I just never wanted to assume your feelings. So I stood by and I took care of you in ways that you allowed me to, not wanting to overstep.”
Cameron’s own eyes watered at the way your face was contorted in pain. Your eyes were so puffy and he loathed to see you this way.
“Had I spoken up sooner you wouldn’t be feeling like this,”
“This isn’t on you, Cam. Not even close! I fell in bed with those men but they’re the ones to blame! They’re the ones… who are preying on people like me to get a quick nut and not following through with their role. Don’t you blame yourself.”
“But I watched as you dropped. I could have stopped it,”
“I could have stopped it,” you correct him, “But you know me, glutton for punishment I guess.”
“Well not anymore.” He reached over to hold your hand, kissing your knuckles.
“I’m gonna open the sunroof so we can sit here, relax and just look at the stars. Then we’re gonna take you home, run you a bubble bath, turn on some Bob’s Burgers and just… be in each other’s company.”
You started to feel the elephant lift off your chest, a weight you’d been carrying for quite some time.
The two of you recline your seats while the sun roof opens, revealing the twinkling orbs in the midnight sky.
“The stars remind me of your freckles,” you whisper, turning to look at him. He is such a beautiful man, eyes captivating and his smile always felt like home, “They’re like little kisses from angels before you were sent down here.”
He blushed. He’s fucking blushing.
“You flatter me”
“Cameron Cade you have always been beautiful to me. Before I knew you as the football star or the well respected Dom in the city’s BDSM scene,”
He chuckles lightly at your words, trying to not blush even harder.
“You were always just… Cameron, to me. Cam, the bright eyed and bushy tailed newbie like me. From the moment I looked in your eyes under those red club lights, I knew… I knew you were meant to be in my life.”
“Would you believe me if I said I felt the same way?” His eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes again, “I thank God everyday that I met you.”
Your eyes stung once more, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill, a wide grin growing on your face, “Now who is flattering who?”
As the night progressed, Cameron kept his word. He ran you home, prepared a bubble bath, ordered your favorite take out and had Bob’s burgers ready when you were done.
Days went by and Cameron didn’t press the subject of you saying his name. Despite you mentioning how you wanted him in ways that otherwise were forbidden, he didn’t overstep and continued to take care of you in ways that you needed.
However, on your end, you were burning to talk about it. The topic was burning on your tongue and in moments where he was close, you just wanted to pull him in and have his lips on yours.
Each day that he left to fulfill his football star obligations, he would come back to make sure you were well and taken care of.
Today, he returned and his cologne was profound, in a good way of course. It usually lingers and you’re fine but today you just needed him near, it’s different.
“We can talk about it if you want,” his head turns to you while he hangs his jacket the hook he designated as his.
“What do you m-,”
“You’re gnawing away at your lip again,” he comes to sit close to you, his thumb meeting the skin just below your bottom lip to ease it from the vicious grip of your teeth.
“What are we doing?” The golden question finally being asked.
“What do you want to do?” He retorts
“No, I asked you first!” A playful push to his chest has that glinting smile appearing on his face before he settles.
He clenches his jaw as he ponders over his thoughts, trying to figure out the best way he wants to say this.
“I want more. But if you want to erase everything we talked about the other night that works too. My main priority is meeting your needs in the way you see fit.”
“You have to make your needs a priority too,”
“My needs and wants are your needs and wants” He said it as if it was plain as day, “You need to be taken care of? I need to be the one to do it. You need to talk about something to get it off your chest? I want to be the one you unload it all on. You need a hug? I want to be the one to wrap you in a warm embrace,”
His eyes didn’t leave yours for even a second, it’s sort of intimidating. But you suppose that’s what makes him so magnetic.
“Or-,” he shrugged, “if you just want a friend, I’ll be there. I just need to know.”
You know what you wanted. You’d been keeping it locked up for years, so why is it so hard to just say it? Why did it feel so exposing?
“Don’t get shy on me now.” He flashes that dizzying smile.
“I don’t want anyone else to experience you.”
Flat out. Just like that. It was blunt and there was no other way around it.
“I don’t like who I am when I’m envious of other people muttering your name. I don’t like who I am when I expose myself to men who can’t even hold a light to you. I’ve loved having you as my best friend but I just need more and that may make me selfish but I-,”
The smell of Cameron is closer than you’ve ever experienced and it’s only because his lips are on yours now. His hand is on your jaw to pull you closer and the rapid pace of his breathing is a sign of just how bad he’s been wanting to do this.
How bad he’s been needing this.
“Cam-“ you needed to catch your breath but you needed more of him so that took precedence. You were grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, your tongue dancing with his, he tastes so good it’s inebriating.
“Please” he sounded so pretty when he whimpered, “Just come here, Bunny. Just.. please”
He pulled you forward to sit in his lap and his hands are grabbing at your waist. All Cameron ever wanted was to have you like this and be able to kiss on you.
He wove his hands in your hair to lightly pull at your roots, exposing your neck so he could get a lay of the land before his attack.
His teeth nip at the skin of your neck and you can’t help the moan that escapes.
“There goes my Bunny”
Your eyes rolled at the drop in his voice, the dominant side of him was taking control and he could tell just by the way you were melting into him that you were ready to submit.
“Cam-“ a pathetic plea when his hands grip your ass in an attempt to get you even closer.
“Yes, Baby?” He pulls your face away, and he is in awe at how fucking sexy you look. Lips glistening, eyelids heavy with a slack jaw.
He’s unaware of just how ravishing he looks right now. Lips red and swollen, nostrils flared as he tried to calm himself down and you can see the fire in his eyes.
He can see an eye of a storm in the sky of your mind, your eyes brimming with tears as the hurricane winds blow you each and every way.
“I need you.” your chin trembles and your hands squeeze his wrists.
“Not right now, baby”
His rejection guts you and he can see you panicking.
“No, no. Breathe with me. Relax.” His voice is stern but the touch of his thumbs on your cheeks is tender.
“I just mean we need more time to build this. My job is to deliver but it’s also my job to be thorough. I may know you but I need to know you, Bunny.”
Cameron brings your face forward, kissing your forehead to subdue you.
“You trust me, right?” His forehead presses to yours and can feel the motion of you nodding with fervor.
“I trust you. More than you will ever know”
“Then trust that I know what I’m doing,” his hands rub circles on your back to ground you.
“Okay,” your eyes squeeze tight, wanting to let him guide you.
Of course the impatient side of you was hard to control during this time. However, you know going slow is the best option for longevity.
But time seemed to drag.
Weeks.
Cameron meant it when he said he was thorough.
He wanted to know everything that made you cringe and everything that made you tick.
What made you swoon and what made you sick.
Of course in turn, you learned a lot about him and while time seemed to move excruciatingly slow, it was a time filled with knowledge and growth.
And patience.
Boy, did this teach you patience. Each time you were boiling over, Cameron decreased the heat to make you simmer down.
It was a push and pull. He’d pull you closer, making you think it was time just to push you away and keep you waiting with anticipation.
You loved it though. You were the type of sub to like the chase.
To be honest, Cameron wasn’t even doing anything inherently sexual. It was his natural dominance that had your core twisting, that had you yearning.
Like opening the car door for you, grabbing something off the top shelf, massaging your calves during movie nights.
And he was a damn good cook.
Your mind got hazy every time he’d ask you to taste test something he made. The way his hand cradled your chin when he spoon fed you the sauces he created had you ready to pounce on him.
It really was the little things that made you crave Cameron more and more everyday.
Like the late night dances in your living room where you were in nothing but your panties and one of his shirts while he just sported a pair of sweats that hung low on his hips.
And like the days he’d pick out a perfume for you that coincided with the energy your outfit was giving that day.
The foundation was coming along quite nicely, but the restless brat within you just wanted to be underneath him at his mercy.
The make out sessions continue though. Just sitting in his lap, trying to imprint the taste of him on your tongue.
“Cam, I think I’m ready.”
You couldn’t hide it anymore. This was the ultimate symbol of devotion and you have been ripping at the seams to give yourself to him.
With his forehead pressed to yours, he gives a deep chuckle that goes straight to your pussy.
“You think?” His grip on your hips gets tighter as he moves you over his hardening dick. Your eyelids get heavy, thrill filling your body.
“If you have some idea that you can handle this you better be sure. I don’t do ‘I think’,”
His right hand is quick to grab your neck, fixing your gaze so he’s looking into your eyes.
“So try again. You think you’re ready for me?”
“N-no. I know. I know I’m ready”
“Mmmm, you don’t seem too sure, baby. I don’t believe you.” He goes to remove you from his lap but your thighs tighten around his, planting you in place.
“Please. I’ll show you. Please let me show you,”
You were all about acts of service.
“You gon’ put on a show for me?”
“Yes, I wanna make you proud,” your hips buck against the hump that his dick created in his sweatpants, relishing in the stimulation.
“Shade of pink?” He breaks character to check on you, making sure you’re actually good. Using shades of pink as your safe word system.
“Bubblegum.”
Bubblegum being great! keep going!
Fuchsia being slow down / need a minute.
Magenta being full stop.
“Good girl,” His lips cover yours in a kiss that sends you in a tizzy, “Show me why you’re my Bunny.”
You’re quick to slip out of his lap and kneel on the plush carpet in front of him, your hands on his knee caps.
“You’re so fucking pretty, you know that?” A heavy breath falls from him and the worship has you leaning against his thigh to hide your eyes.
“No, noooo” he sings, picking your head up, “You don’t get to hide from me anymore. Understand?”
“Yes” A quick nod from you doesn’t satisfy him.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Sir.” The whine in your voice lets Cameron know you’re teetering the edge of subspace.
“You’re so good for me, baby” he leans back and your mouth salivates at just how fine this man is. Like he was etched from marble and put up in the most prestige museums.
“Now tell me what you want. Don’t hold back.”
A groan rumbles in your chest, thinking about how vulgar your desires are when it comes to him. You’ve never said any of this shit out loud.
“I want you to fuck my throat.”
He chuckles and your cheeks heat up, feeling embarrassed.
“I know that’s not it. I know just how much of a slut you want to be for me. I know you’ve got more in you than that.”
“I want to feel fear set in when my lungs need air but your dick is stuffing my mouth. I want my tears to mix with my spit while you slap it on my face. I know you care about me, but is it too much to ask for you to act like you don’t?”
“Fuck.” His breath shudders at the concept of ruining you. He’s always wanted to make love to you but there is something that started to awaken within him the more you talked about how bad you needed him to fuck you within an inch of your life.
His fingers fall beneath the band on his sweatpants to pull them down and finally release his hardened length.
Watching the way your eyes crossed sent shivers down his spine. Sure he’s been fawned over by other playmates but this was different.
This is where he wants to be. It’s where he always wanted to be.
He felt loved here and desired in a way that makes his heart skip a beat instead of making it feel like a there’s a black hole in his chest.
“Oh you’re hungry, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You gonna make me proud and show me?,”
You didn’t answer and it was the only time Cameron would accept silence as an answer. Your hand immediately wraps around his leaking dick, squeezing just to see what reaction it would cause.
“You wanna play games?” Cameron bucked his hips, trying to keep his eyes straight but his head lolled slightly to the side.
“Just doing what you would call… learning what makes you tick.”
You leaned forward to lick the bead of precum that threatened to go to waste.
A moan of relief is shared upon you two.
You finally get to taste him and he finally gets to bask in that sensation.
You cover his dick with your mouth, the part of you that aims to please is feeding off of his heavy breathing.
“Oh God, Bunny!” His voice trembles while he looks down at you, swallowing as much of him as you could. He can feel how bad you’ve been wanting this with the way you’re getting sloppy. You’re savoring this as if you’ll never get to experience it again.
You’re making up for lost time and you’re doing everything you can to show him you’re worthy.
“Fuck.” you pull your mouth off him, leaning against his inner thigh while you stroke him with your hands. The sound is erotic, your hand quickly twisting and stroking your spit down his dick.
Your eyes meet his and he smirks when he sees the tears.
“You treat me so fucking good,” he wipes away a tear, “But I need more, baby. Do you think you could give me more?,”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Then move your hands.” He demanded, voice deep and leaving no room for negotiation, “Either in your lap or behind your back but you don’t get to touch me anymore.”
You whine quietly. Losing the ability to touch him for even a fraction of a second was like taking away your ability to breathe. You sadly place them in your lap and wait for further instruction.
“If you do good I just might give you what you want.”
“Please,” you huff, “Please, Sir. I’ll be good, let me prove it.”
Cameron chuckles while sitting up. His hands grab the sides of your face before licking your pouting lips and kissing you with pure ferocity.
“Shade?”
“Bubblegum.”
“Good,” he inhales sharply, “Because play time is over.”
You could practically see the switch in his eyes.
He’s here.
So is she.
“Now open your fucking mouth and show me why you’re my. fucking. Bunny.”
His fingers grip your roots tight, bringing your mouth back down on his dick. His body vibrates with a groan that comes from deep within. His hips buck up and his eyes meet yours.
He can’t get over how beautiful you look like this, eyes burning with desire for him and you just couldn’t get enough.
“You’ve always wanted to be my little slut, haven’t you, baby?”
His pace picks up when you hum an answer around his length. Your saliva painting his dick and he can’t tear his eyes away from you.
You’re addicted to him. He feels so full and heavy in your mouth, the sounds he’s making are so pretty. His jaw hangs and sweat beads on his forehead. The lack of air in your lungs was quite exhilarating actually.
All your body knew was Cameron.
Cameron is all you see. The way his stomach tightened each time you gagged on him. The way he bit his lip to try and ground himself so he doesn’t bust too quick.
Cameron is all you hear. The way he moans your name is so tantalizing. His breath hitches when your tongue swipes against his balls each time you go down.
Cameron is all you smell. The scent of his cologne is mixing with his sweat and it smells so delicious. Like an aphrodisiac, a pheromone that was sending you into heat.
Cameron is all you taste. His precum was just a tad salty and it was satiating the appetite you had for him. The flavor of his enthusiasm was filling your stomach.
Cameron is all you feel. His fingers massaging your scalp as a way to ease you. His dick filled your mouth and it was all you ever wanted. To feel him like this. To feel his body twitch for you, fighting all the alarm bells within him that say to slow down or he’ll cum just like this.
Cameron is all encompassing. Like the universe spreading far and wide. He became all you knew and more.
He yanks your head off, a large gasp coming from you as you catch your breath. Shortly after, your cries fill the room. You’re fully under for him now.
“Pleeaaaaase!,” a sob wracks your body and in the blink of an eye you’re straddling his lap and he’s rocking you.
He’s soothing you, speaking sweet nothings while his hand slips past the waistband of your shorts.
He hisses once he feels just how wet you are.
So fucking messy.
“You like being good for me? You finally got what you’ve been aching for, huh?” He’s teasing in the midst of your tears and his taunting laughter sends shivers down your spine but makes your pussy clench around his fingers.
“Yes, Sir. I love it. I’ll always be your good Bunny!”
He used one hand to grip your cheeks, to keep your face forward while he finger fucks you right in his lap. Your hands hold his shoulders tight so you don’t topple over.
“Tell me you’re mine,” his eyes roll at the pulsing of your core
“I’m yours, Sir,”
“Say it again.”
“I’m yours!”
He knew he was pulling you to the edge already.
“Say it again. Slower this time. I want to hear every fucking syllable.”
“Sir, please! I’m… I’m gonna-“
“You’re not gonna do shit unless you do what I say, Bunny. C’mon don’t be a bad girl now,”
Your noses were touching and you didn’t dare to look away from him.
“I’m.. I’m fucking yours!,” your chest was heaving, “All of me… is yours. My mind..”
Your head tried to loll to the side but Cameron wasn’t having it.
“Focus on me.” He muttered.
“My mind… my body and my soul. I am yours,” you started to grind against his fingers to help you over the edge.
“And you?,” your eyes half lidded and drool decorates your bottom lip, “You, Sir… are mine just the same.”
“Fuck,” his fingers moved faster, dipping in and out of you to rub your slick clit, giving it some attention too, “Show me.”
His lips are on yours again. The clashing of your teeth, the strings of spit and lip biting was too much in the best way possible. All of it was taking you there. Filling your bodies with a drunkenness that not even the finest liquor can bring forth.
“Mark me. Show me I’m yours. Cum for me, baby. Cmon, I know you can do it. I know just how bad you need it. Just show me. Please, baby? I need it. I need you to show m-“
He was going on a tangent. It was fulfilling to know he burns for you in the same way.
“Hhhhhhnnnn- fuuuuck!!,” you do your best to keep your gaze on him as you cum on his fingers but your eyes crossed and your body curled into him. Every nerve ending was firing off and Cameron could feel it.
“That’s my girl,”
You were trembling in his grasp while his hand ran up and down your back.
“Just breathe. You did fucking good for me. Just like I knew you would,”
“I’ll always be good for you, Sir.” your eyes were glazed over and you kept scooting closer as if you and him weren’t already chest to chest.
“Before we go on, what shade are you, baby? I need to make sure you’re good.”
“I…,” you hesitated.
“Be honest.” He implored, eyes not leaving yours so you don’t even think about lying.
“Fuchsia, but I just need some water.” A small poke of your bottom lip sends him into action.
“Go to the bedroom and I’ll be right there, okay?”
“Wanna stay with youuuuu,” you latched onto him and it filled his stomach with butterflies.
“C’mon, Bun. I won’t be long. I’ll be there before you know it”
A heart fluttering peck is placed upon your lips and he taps your ass so you get going.
The journey to your room took 30 seconds but waiting for him felt like an eternity. When he appears he has your insulated water bottle, filled with ice and your favorite flavor packet.
“Drink for me,” he kneels in front of you, hold the straw to your mouth and didn’t pull away until you told him you were good and he sets it on the nightstand.
“Bubblegum,” you nodded, reassuring that you’re ready to continue.
His calloused fingers rub up and down your thighs, just needing to feel you.
“Relax,” he instructs, “Let me take care of you.”
Cameron removes your top to expose your breasts and his mouth instantly waters. He kisses all over your chest causing your head to fall back. A sigh of relief is sent into the air.
You were self conscious about the size of your breasts and the pudge of your stomach but Cameron allowed no territory to go without attention.
Then you felt his lips wrap around your nipples. Flicking his tongue, tugging with his teeth, hollowing his cheeks to suck on the hardening buds as he switched back and forth.
“Have I told you how fucking gorgeous you are?” He whimpered, like he can’t believe he is in this position.
He’s not sure how the idiots before could fumble you but he is ever so thankful that they did.
Or else he wouldn’t be here in this moment.
He urges you to lie back so he can remove your night shorts and you swear you hear him gasp at the sight of your swollen lips, glistening with the cum he coaxed out of you on the couch.
“Fucking hell, Bunny,” his arms wrap around your thighs pulling you closer to the edge of the bed to kiss and nip at the inside of your legs.
“Feed it to me,” his voice low and stern, “I’m starving for you, Bunny. Feed me that pretty pussy, baby.”
You pull your pillows to rest them under your shoulders and head to give you a good view of him.
Your hand trembles while you reach to hold the back of his head and lift your hips up to rub your slick lips against his. He licks it off slowly, groaning at the taste of you.
He never thought he’d be here, tasting you, touching you, pleasing you.
But fuck, was he grateful.
“More,” he pleads. Who are you to deny him?
His mouth is open when you bring your hips up for him to kiss and lick. You relax your legs and his mouth is following close behind.
“That feels so fucking good,” you stare up at the ceiling, too nervous to look at him because if you look, you’ll come undone and lose it.
He was so tentative, like he was making out with your pussy. He suckled on your clit and you felt his fingers push into you once again.
“Yes!,” your back arches when you feel his fingers curl, “Fuck, baby. Right there, yes!”
You spread your legs wider and kept one hand on the back of his head while the other moved to pull and tug at your hardened nipple.
You’d never had head this good. Either guys were too selfish and never offered or they just didn’t know what the fuck they were doing, forcing you to fake an orgasm so they’d just stop.
But this? This felt too fucking good to rush.
His tongue swirled around your lips before diving into your leaking pussy, slurping on your arousal to quench his thirst.
“You taste so fucking good, Bunny. What the fuck.”
He was in awe.
“It’s all for you, Sir. All for you.”
It was almost shameful with how close you were but you couldn’t hold it anymore. It’s been years of rubbing your own clit and fucking yourself to the thought of him. You put off your orgasm for as long as you could but he knew you were almost there.
So he fingered you harder and sucked your clit just right.
“Oh God!!,” your hips rise off the bed and you push his head closer to your core to ride it out. A blistering heat wave takes over your body, you’re seeing stars and just calling for him over and over like a broken record
“God dammit,” he pulled back after licking you up all you had to give, just to see you shake in overstimulation. Smiling at the way you were breathing so hard.
“C’mere,” you mewl breathlessly. Pulling him up onto the bed, your hands framing his face to pull him in for a kiss, you both hum at the taste of you on each other’s lips.
“I’m ready,” you whimper, legs still spread wide beneath him, “I’m ready for you, Sir. I’m ready to give myself to you. Make me yours.”
He sits back on his heels to pull his shirt off, his sweats and boxers long gone and his dick seemed even harder now than before.
“You ready for me to show you how a real man takes care of his girl?” His slaps his dick against your clit making your body jolt at the contact.
“Are you ready for me to show you..,” he huffs, shaking his head with a smirk, “Just how good I can ruin you?”
“I’m ready, Sir. Please, I can take it. I can take it, I ca- Ooooooh FUCK!-“
Cameron filled you to the hilt, cutting you off and taking your breath away. His girth was delicious and his length hit spots you didn’t know could be hit.
“Are you gonna be able to take it like the slut you always wanted to be for me?” His arms frame your face and you grab onto his forearms, “I wanna ruin you so bad, Bunny. I wanna hurt you the way you need me to and make it all better. Can I do that? Will you let me do that?”
“Yes!,” you buck your hips up but he pins them down, “Please! I can take it. Let me show you. I can show you!”
“Yeah?,” he kisses your lips delicately before a sinister look makes itself a home in his eyes, “Bite the pillow if you need it. I won’t be holding back.”
Cameron was a man of his word. His grip on your hips was tight as he rolled his hips into you, building a strong pace.
His gold chains dangle in your face like you’ve dreamt of for so long, swinging back and forth like a hypnotizing pendulum.
You felt him in your stomach and he was vicious. Your wetness was spattering all over his pelvis and he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
“Where am I? Tell me, baby. Tell me where you feel me,”
“You’re soooo deeeeep!” His strokes were tear jerking and pushed every moan out. You tried to cover your mouth but he took your hand away and pinned it next to your head.
“On second thought-“ he snapped his hips, “Let me hear you.”
With his other hand, he smacks you and you call out for him. Craving more. Your body was on fire, all the sensations had you in a frenzy.
You were addicted to mixing pain and pleasure. You were his and Cameron always delivered.
“I’m gonna fucking cum already-“
“Not until I say so,” he retorts, “Just relax and take this dick, Bunny. It’s all yours now. Savor it.”
“Fuck!” You weren’t sure if you could, he was stirring you up inside and the noises of your skin slapping and wetness filled the room.
Cameron was a vocal man too. He was whimpering your name, trying to keep his composure but he was failing. He needed to let you know how good you made him feel.
Cameron was having a hard time, trying to keep his shit together. You were so fucking messy and wrapped around him like a glove. Nothing he ever imagined compared to the reality of this. Nothing compared to how fucking good you feel in real time.
“God damn, Bunny. This pussy is so good to me. She’s swallowing me right up.” He says through clenched teeth.
Your toes were curling so hard you felt they’d cramp up.
“I can’t hold it, Sir. Please, can I cum?”
“No.” He smacked you once more and your pussy pulsed around him even harder. The way he rolled his hips had him feeling every ridge within you and it was driving him insane.
You cried for him. You fucking loved being able to cry for him. You were trying to tell your body not to cum yet but his strokes were too good. With each drag of his dick against your walls you were brought closer to your climax.
His lips ghosted over yours and his stare into your eyes was serious.
“I will fuck you up if you cum without my permission, Bunny. You don’t wanna disobey me do you?”
“But I caaaaaan’t. It’s right…,” you hiccup when he hits that special spot that’s buried deep within you and you almost went against his wishes right then, “It’s right… there… and I can’t!”
“Awwwww,” he cooed, brushing a tear off your cheek, “That’s too fucking bad, isn’t it?”
His hand presses against your pelvis and you try you run away from his hands and his dick but he wasn’t having it.
“Don’t you fucking run from me.” he pulls you back and it feels like he’s even deeper, like you could feel him in your chest.
“Baby- please!,” your legs were shaking around him and your pussy just kept clenching and it was driving him up the fucking wall.
“You’re such a pretty slut when you beg. You wanna cum? Go ahead. Make me proud, Bunny. Don’t let me down.”
“Fuuuu- oh God, oh God- C..CAMERON!”
You came so loudly that he could feel your cries reverberate inside his own body. He was slapping your clit to draw out your orgasm until you clenched your legs tight.
“Oh my fucking God,”
Cameron leans back on his heels again and pulls you into his lap once again, continuing his strokes.
“You’re done when I say we’re done. I know that pussy wants more, I can feel her. I can hear her- do you hear her, Bunny?”
Cameron’s hand clamps on your mouth to quiet your whimpers so you could hear just how gushy your pussy was for him.
“I’ve got your fucking cum dripping down my balls, Bunny. You should be proud of the slut you’ve become for me.” The sounds that your bodies made between your legs has you ready to hide your face from how obscene it is.
“I know you've been wanting it, baby. To go fucking brain dead for my dick. Look at you. You look so fucking pathetic. Just look at you going dumb for the way I dig in that pussy. You like being my pathetic little slut, huh?
“No, I love it!” Your nails are digging and scraping down his chest, Cameron was getting overwhelmed. Your skin was hot against his and you were clenching so fucking tight that he was struggling to hold back his own impending climax.
“I fucking love it, Sir. I fucking love it. It’s your pussy, baby. You’re fucking me so good.”
His own head fell back, eyes closing shut tightly as you began to take over all of his senses this time.
Cameron could see all of you. The way your breast bounce with every thrust, the way your eyes fill with tears each time you look at him or he hits that sweet spot deep in your core. He can see your true self. Elated with the fact you’re trusting him enough to be vulnerable like this.
Cameron could hear you. The way you mumbled incoherent phrases as subspace took over your mind, letting your body just float in the pool of pleasure you were suspended in.
Cameron could smell you. He smells your gourmand perfume and your sweat smells so sweet. Your shampoo was his favorite aroma, because it wrapped him in a warm blanket of peace. Having you this close brought him comfort that this is where he’s supposed to be.
Cameron could taste you, your pussy juice still on his tongue and lips and when he kisses you, he can taste your mint mouthwash. You need to please is palpable and it tastes like victory.
Cameron could feel you all over him. You were creating a sticky mess between his legs and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He bites his lip at the feeling of your nipples rubbing against his chest and your pulse pounding for him beneath the hand he had on your throat.
You surrounded him like air. You were always there and he would always need you so he could breathe, to survive this world. You were his everything and he wouldn’t give this up for anything nor anyone.
It filled Cameron with pride to know that he's the one to make you fall apart. He was in seventh heaven knowing he gets to put the pieces back together when you two are done.
“You wanna cum again, don’t you? You wanna paint my dick some more?”
His hand squeezed the sides of your throat, making you dizzy but the harder it was to breathe right now, the closer your orgasm became.
“Yesyesyesyesyes!” You chanted, seeing his blissed out expression from behind your heavy eyelids.
“Bunny, baby… I’m gonna cum,”
“Fill me up… please? I deserve it. I’ve earned it. Please!”
Cam squeezes tighter and yet you still crave more. Despite his tight grip on the sides of your neck, your body melts into him.
This was the epitome of submission to him. He could deprive you of something as vital as air and you’d still meld into his grip because you trust him so deeply.
You know he wouldn’t hurt you.
But if it’s like this? The pain is welcome and it’s the catalyst for your surrender to him.
“Oh my fucking-,” he drops you flat on the mattress and his fingers weave between yours as he drives his hips hard and deeper into you.
The finish line in sight for the both of you.
He’s moving so fast that he slipped out and your gasp was big enough to suck the air out of the room.
“Give it back!,” you were full on sobbing now, “Please. Sir, give it back. Give it back, give it-“
“I’m right here, baby.” He reassures, slipping back inside and your body jerks, “Just breathe, Bunny. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Your nails are digging into the back of his hands the closer you get.
“Yes, yes, yes-,” you look up into his eyes and you chin trembles, “Oh God, I fucking love you.”
“Oh, I love you so much more, baby.”
Sure it’s been said before. But this time it was different.
Before, it was said as friends who hoped the other could read between the lines.
Now it’s said as two people who are growing alongside each other in a contrasting way this time. Two people who no longer have to hope for the other to pick up the hints because it’s blatant.
Just as he finished saying that, he’s spilling inside of you and it takes you over the edge, pulling him down for a kiss to hush your sobs.
“Fuck!,” his body felt like jelly as he tried to keep himself up from crushing you.
His eyes are shut tight but they open just as quick as he hears little sniffles.
“Hey. You’re okay. I got you, Bun. Just breathe with me, okay?”
His hands frame your face once more and you latch onto his wrists, to ground yourself.
“You did so fucking good, you know that? You made me so fucking proud”
“P-promise?,”
Cameron could tell it wasn’t just the subspace taking over and asking for reassurance. It was the sub that had been denied aftercare time after time. It was Y/N who feared that she’d never be good enough for anyone.
Most important of all, it was his Bunny that longed for him in silence for years because he was too much of a wimp to make the move.
“I promise. I’m here and I’m not leaving,”
Cameron gave you acetaminophen to get ahead of any post coital soreness that’ll be sure to show up in the morning and made you finish your entire bottle of ice water.
After he cleaned you up, he made sure that you peed while he turned the shower on, grabbing the towels and washcloths as the water heats up.
He turned on your favorite r&b music to relax your mind while you two showered together. He had to make sure you’re coming down safely. Letting you know that you don’t have to fear being abandoned again.
Cameron made sure to reinforce the fact that the degrading things he says during sex are purely sexual and he’d never think that of you outside of play.
He held you in his embrace under the hot stream and sang to you, giving you little kisses on your cheeks and shoulders.
“I know I’ve said it a million times but you really are beautiful.”
You tried to hide the smile that was growing but it can’t be contained. Not when he’s here, like this, so close.
After he dried you off and helped lotion you up, it was your turn to take care of him. Massaging lotion onto his back and peppering kisses on his neck and singing to him now, even if you didn’t sound as good as he did.
“How are you holding up?” The two of you lie in bed, legs tangled and finding solace in each other’s arms.
“I’m free from the cell I’ve quietly sat in for years waiting for you to find me,” your eyes look from his lips to his eyes and they’re so gentle now. So soft and kind.
“I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner.” the back of his index finger brushes your cheek and he loves to see the smile growing on your face.
“Don’t be. I had the key the entire time.”
“It seems we both did,” he moves to kiss you once again and he smiles bashfully as if this is the first time he’s kissing you. As if he didn’t just fuck you six ways from Sunday, “I’ll never get tired of being able to do that.”
“I won’t either,” your fingers gently touch your lips like, rejoicing in this all being real.
It’s mind boggling that you’re here now.
But it’s freeing.
You are free from the abyss.
From the void that swallowed you whole every time you were done with someone who wasn’t genuine.
This feeling in your chest, it’s tranquil. Like feeling the grass beneath your feet as you prance around without bounds.
You were his and he was finally yours.
It felt good to not just be Bunny to him.
Because now?
Now you were exclusive.
He can sleep at night knowing that you’re more than just Bunny.
Because you’re his Bunny.
And that will never change.
——————
If you’ve made it this far, thank you so much for your support and attention!!
if you enjoyed, please make sure to like, reblog and comment! it helps a ton!
summary: there is duality in everything. love is gentle and love is fierce. experience it.
word count: 3.9k
pairing: cameron cade x black!reader
warnings: 18+ SMUT AHEAD! predetermined nickname (Blossom), Dirty talk, p in v, creampie/light breed kink, mentions of starting a family, soft domestic cameron once again
a/n: sorry for the delay yall, writer’s block be kicking my ass but here’s another domestic, yearner cam fic! couldn’t help myself🩵
——————
“What do you need from me baby?” Cameron asks in a low tone, a sign that he had a long day but was willing to be there for whatever you need. Because once you say your needs, they become his as well with complete enthusiasm.
Fresh out the shower, you fall back on the bed in a dramatic fashion, a timid sigh accompanying it.
The rain beating on your window with it being cracked to let in a breeze, the salt lamp on your bedside table illuminating the room in a soft warm glow and the sweet smell of nag champa incense burning had really set the exact tone for what you needed.
“Unless you have the energy to put me through a mattress.. nothing.”
You can’t even look up at him and his silence to your statement isn’t making the rush from your words any better. The only thing you can hear is the low hum of wind that travels through your window screen, kmaking your nipples hard.
Which Cameron notices.
He can hear his own heart thumping in his ears.
“If that’s what you need from me then let it be what you need,” he sounds more alert now. He didn’t play when it came to bringing you over the threshold into a colorful, blooming bliss.
“But just know you need to say it. Loud and clear. If that’s what you need then own it.”
Your eyes slowly inch their way to his face. His eyes are low, a brewing anticipation coming to fruition in his irises. He licks his lips, a small hitch of breath makes him smirk.
You love his lips. The way they frame yours perfectly in a heated kiss, his tongue swiping against yours.
You also love the way they wrap around your nipples when he’s deep inside you, driving you over the edge just for him to catch you. Then there’s the way they kiss your neck and thighs, or when he’s on his stomach, grinding against the bed as his lips kiss and slurp at your pussy. He’s so gentle on your clit, like he’s making out with it and his fingers deeeeeeeep insi-
“Baby.” His voice brings you back into the moment, “What do you need from me?”
Tongue in cheek, you look down to your hands, his gaze was so heavy and you felt so small under it.
“tuhpuhmethewthamadtress…” a jumbled mess of words, yet he knows exactly what was said. You’ve got him in the mood now, but not just any mood. He’s in the mood to make you crumble in his hands.
“Say it, Y/N. If you want me digging in your guts then say it with your chest. If you want my dick so badly just say it.”
“Oh my God, Cameron.” Your eyes are wide and cheeks warm at his verbiage. Your thighs were already clenching and Cameron being the observant man he is, noticed that too.
“What?” He chuckles quickly, biting his bottom lip and scooting closer to you until his lips are ghosting over the hot flesh of your neck.
“You don’t wanna make those pretty sounds for me, baby? That one you make when I’m hitting that spot so good your brain short circuits. You don’t wanna make that pussy splash on me while she swallows me in?”
“Fuck, Cam. Please!,” a futile attempt at getting your way without giving in to him.
“Please, what, Y/N? C’mon, Pretty. Tell me what you need.” You feel him smiling while he kisses below your ear, the tickle of his breath making you antsy.
“Fuck… I need it. I need you to put me through the mattress, please!”
A deep rumble of his laugh vibrates through your chest.
“You look so fucking good, baby.” His eyes roam over your body and you try not to cringe because you’re in your bonnet and a pink muumuu. You feel as though you look homely.
“Gonna cum in you so deep. Wanna get you pregnant.” he rolls over so he’s slouched against the headboard and he brings you with him, making your straddle his leg.
You two talked like this all the time without something actually coming from it.
Cameron brings you down for a kiss so intense you’re breathing each other’s air. He brings his knee up and you instantly moan in his mouth, pleasure shooting through your veins.
He grabs your hips, taking the initiative to rock you back and forth to elicit another pretty sound from you.
“You like that, Blossom?” His teeth nipping at his lip as if he was deriving pleasure from it himself and in a way he is. He can feel your breath quickening, he can hear the hushed pleas between kisses and it’s making his dick grow harder in his boxers.
You sit up and look down at him, confidence flooded through your veins, you begin to slowly scrunch your night gown in your hands and pull it up to reveal your breasts. The supple flesh swaying as you ride Cameron’s thigh.
“You’re so fucking sexy, Blossom.” He reaches up to pinch your nipples, siphoning another sound of bliss out of you.
“My pretty little flower. Gonna fuck you so deep. Does that sound good? Is that what you need, baby?”
He twists your nipples with a teasing pout, his mouth waters when his eyes travel down your torso to your tummy, where stretch marks are delicately placed. He loved every inch of you, even parts you try to hide.
“Need you, baby.” You huff, head rolling back as your pleasure pricks your body like a heat wave, “Need that dick. Wanna make a mess.”
Cameron looks down to see the mess you’re already making on his thigh. He swallows a deep groan, trying to keep his eyes from rolling.
“Lemme feel her.” He doesn’t wait for a response before he lowers his leg just enough to slip his fingers beneath you and insert them.
Cameron’s brows furrowed and his jaw dropped. No matter how many times you two get intimate, he will always be surprised by how wet you get for him.
“So fucking messy already. You really want my dick in you, huh?”
“Please, baby?” Your delicate hand grasped his neck, lowering yourself to kiss him while his fingers plunged into you and made the messiest squelching sounds.
“Fuck, Blossom.” His jaw clenches once again, he’s getting lightheaded from you squeezing at the sides of his neck, “I feel you pulsing around my fingers. Oh my God. Fuuuuuu-“
Your lips cover his causing you swap each other’s whimpers and groans. When you pull back to look at him, his lips are covered in a mix of your saliva and his. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes are dark and his eyelids heavy.
“I feel you, Blossom. I feel you baby, gimme what I want baby. I can fucking feel you.”
Cameron was never shy to be vocal and he was never shy to show his craving for you. He could be choking you out and fucking you six ways from Sunday yet still pout and ache for you.
“Cam, fu- don’t stop! Don’t stop!” Your other hand began to make circles on your clit, finding that right spot to take you over the cliff.
Your sweaty foreheads are touching, hazy eyes looking at one another and your bodies are buzzing at the same time.
His fingers are so long and they reach spots that not even your own can reach. This very fact causes you to mewl uncontrollably until you feel the knot getting ready to release.
Your hand is still around his neck and he was kissing all over your cheeks and neck. He could cum just like this if it came to it.
Your grasp on his neck tightens while your muscles clench and release from your orgasm crashing down.
“That’s my girl.” He was out of breath, fingers still inside you as you rest against his shirtless chest, hearing the thrum of his own heartbeat matching yours.
You pepper kisses on his chest and down to his stomach once your pulse is no longer the only thing you hear. When you get to the waistband of his boxers, you snap the band and chuckle at his little flinch.
“You wanna play games?” His fists balled up in your night gown to flip you onto your back. Your core instantly aching when his gold cross sways in your face and his eyes are peering down at you like he’s starving.
He’s so fucking hungry for you. He can never get enough.
“Put the pillow under your ass.” He instructs. You said you wanted to be put through the mattress, he will do just that. He cares about the correct angles and the right words to make you melt.
He is precise.
He lowers his boxers and his dick bounces once released. The tip leaking, dying for attention.
So, you reach for him. Your hand wrapping around the girth of him, gasping as if you’ve never felt it before. He doesn’t tear his eyes off of you though, not even when your thumb spreads the precum over his tip, the slit leaking even more.
A satisfied grunt lightly bounces off the walls, he’s ready to bottom out in you and fill you up the way the both of you need.
“You gonna put him in?” He gently thrusts, nudging your clit, making you flinch at the contact.
“Don’t run. You know you don’t get to run from me, right, Blossom?”
“Yes, baby.”
He’s over you again, giving another breathtaking kiss as he slides in you, making you pull back and moan out his name.
“Cam,” your hands fly to his shoulders to ground yourself. He’s got your legs wide open to take him the way you wanted.
“Shhhh, it’s okay. Just take it, baby. I know it’s a lot but you wanted this.”
“Mhm!!” Your back arches off the bed when he starts rolling his hips in a steady motion.
Feeling him against your cervix has your stomach in knots and your eyes prickling with tears.
“We just started and you’re crying already?” His face was decorated in a devious smirk. It’s too much already. You’re clenching so tight you’re pushing him out and he wasn’t gonna have that.
“Don’t even think about it. Don’t push me out. Take it.”
“Hunnhhhgg, fuck!” Your toes curl so hard they crack. You try to lift your head to watch his dick disappear into you but you just can’t keep your head up long enough to be hypnotized by it.
You hold your own legs wide open for him. Basking in the fire that flourishes across your skin.
“You fuck me sooo… goooood!” You feel the tears drip on your cheeks and Cam is quick to swipe one with his thumb to gently open your mouth and place it on your tongue.
Your lips instantly wrap around the appendage and your eyes cross.
“Thaaaaat’s right, Blossom. You’re such a good girl. Such a perfect pussy swallowing me whole. You feel that baby? Where do you feel it?”
His hand presses on your lower stomach, making your back arch off the bed, your eyes in the back of your head once again. All you can do is let out pathetic moans as he drills you.
“Tell me where I’m at or I’ll stop. You don’t want me to stop, do you?”
“N-… nnnnnnn!!!” You let go of your legs and claw at the sheets, trying to find any semblance of balance. Trying to find something tangible to keep yourself grounded but his dick has you so high.
“N-n-n! Not good enough!” He taunts, slowing his strokes, teasing you. He loves to watch you squirm.
“Please, Cam. Noooooo!” A sob wrecks your body. It felt too good for him to stop.
He bends over, sucking a nipple into your mouth, using a hand to play with the other, slooooowly building up his pace.
“F-fuck… fuck!” Your hand flies to the back of his neck to keep him there. Loving the way he bites and tugs at the sensitive buds. The twinge of pain making your legs shake.
“M-my… my stomach.” You whisper. Cameron pulls off with a pop.
“Hmm?” His eyes were misty with arousal. A beautiful, stormy fog was displayed in the eyes of the man that you adored so much.
“My stomach. You were in my stomach!” Your hands grab at him, not feeling close enough, “You were in my stomach and I want it back! I need it. Please, baby? I can take it. I’ll prove it to you. I’ll take i-“
Cam was quick. He placed one of your legs on his shoulder, his face only a few inches from yours and he picked up his momentum once again.
“My perfect little flower.” He gasps, body trembling when you clench down against him. You were so wet, so wet even that you began to splash on his pelvis just like he wanted.
“I bloom only for you!” You cry against his neck, your nails digging into his back. You feel your bonnet slipping off but you can’t even seem to care while his hands grip the back of your thighs to pin you down and go even deeper.
“And I burn for you, Blossom. You’re doing such a good job taking my dick. I fucking feel it. You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?”
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yeeeeeesss!” You did everything you could to lift your head up and look him in the eyes, jaw slacking as you worked up the ability to speak.
“I’m your perfect flower! Gonna cum for you, gonna make a mess on that dick, baby.”
Cameron swears under his breath, sometimes you make it so hard for him to last, especially when you feel like this and talk like that.
“It’s all yours. This dick is all yours. You couldn’t help but need it.”
Whines of affirmation is all he gets but he’ll take it. He knows how much your brain turns to mush when he fucks you like this.
You two share a sloppy kiss, your hands gripping both of his cheeks to keep him there. You needed to feel him on you in every way.
“I’m gonna fucking cum for you.” Your voice cracks as you whisper, fearing that if you speak loudly the words will be incoherent
“Yeah?” He smirks against your lips and it’s intoxicating.
“Yeah!” Your head bobbing ferociously, “Then you’re gonna fill me up so fucking good. Wan’ you t-to cum me, Cam. Please? Please!”
Cameron let out an animalistic groan, trying to keep his composure with the way your pussy was sucking him in like it didn’t want him to leave.
Your legs were twitching as the knot tightened in your stomach again. It scared you just how good it felt, your eyes were fluttering uncontrollably and your core pulsated harder than it ever has. Your hands were grasping at any and everything, it was too much.
You were choking on your own moans when he started rolling his hips slowly. Being intentional with his movements, knowing what they’ll do to you.
“You’re such a pretty girl, Blossom. You’re so pretty when you take my dick like this.”
You know he thinks you’re always pretty but it’s something about the way he says it during sex that riles you up.
You start fucking him back, chasing the high to get to the climax. You were seeing stars dance around his head, tears spilling over the edge of your waterline. A pathetic, drawn out moan escapes you, a sign of all the built up stress finally escaping thanks to him digging it out of you.
Cameron saw how your body twitched and contorted, smirking to himself knowing that you were trying to hold your orgasm back. But it was so strong, he could tell, you weren’t lasting much longer.
“Give it to me,” He mumbles. With both legs on his shoulders now, he pressed forward, literally folding you under him. His hands cradle your face to keep your eyes straight and on him.
“I feel that pretty pussy clenching on me, fuck, Blossom, give it to me. Gimme what I want. Won’t you give it to me, baby? Please?”
“Fuck!” You tried to take deep breaths to keep yourself grounded but it wasn’t working. It felt too fucking good. The current of the pleasure pulled you out to sea, throwing you each and every way before you could finally get your head above the water and give in.
Your hands wrap around his wrists and at first you’re embarrassed by the sounds you make. A mix between cute whimpers and untamed moans but he was there to talk you through it.
“That’s it, Blossom. Take it. I know it feels good, baby, just feel it. Take my dick, take what I give you. You’re okay. You feel so fucking good.” He was such a rambler when you two were like this, letting his thoughts flow like a river and it did the trick every time.
“G-God…. dammiiiit, Cam!” Your back arches off the bed when he doesn’t even slow down his motions when your orgasm hits you. He continues his pace and it’s driving you completely mad.
There’s so much wetness, so many lewd sounds. You’re thankful you two no longer live in a duplex or else this would warrant a noise complaint.
Cameron’s right arm braces himself against the head board while his left arm holds your right thigh to your chest. His eyes roll when he looks down to see himself glistening and covered in your cum. It’s a captivating mix between clear slick and milky cream, it makes his heart skip a beat knowing he does this to you.
This is all he ever wanted. Someone who he can make love to. Someone who can be in their realest form and feral with him.
He whimpers. His own core begins to burn from putting in so much work and he’s about to spill.
“Fill me uuuuup, Cam.” A long drawn out whine leaves the depths of your throat, you were trembling beneath him, about to cum one more time before you’re spent. But seeing him like this, feeling him like this was too delicious, you had to savor it, even with your legs burning and your curled toes cramping.
“I’m gonna fucking cum.” He growls through clenched teeth, “Fuck, baby I’m gonna cum!”
Cameron’s eyes meet yours and that’s it for the both of you.
There is a shared flame ablaze between you two. His jaw hung open, his eyes fluttering as he stared into yours.
“I want it, I want it, I want it!” You’re clenching and throbbing around him as you cum one final time for the night.
“Nnnnnffffffuuuuuuuuu!” His words fall short as the wave crashes down on him. Sex was always amazing with you but something about tonight just felt… different. His orgasm was so strong, tears pricked his eyes and his body shivered beyond his control.
“You’re okay. You’re okay, baby. I’m right here,” you kissed him along his jawline to help bring him down. Both of you were sweaty and out of breath, sharing breathless kisses, pulling each other as close as possible as if he’s not still inside you.
“I love you so fucking much.” He whispered, completely tuckered out.
“I love you more.” Your hand caressed the nape of his neck, rejoicing in the feeling of his skin on yours, in its clammy glory and all.
It took some time before you two found the energy to get up and clean yourselves, resulting in another shower, shared this time.
“It felt different this time.” He mumbles while washing your back.
You peek over your shoulder with a gentle, curious frown, “Is that a bad thing?”
A bashful grin spreads across his lips and he bows his head to avert from your gaze.
“Not at all,” he takes the shower head and washes the vanilla scented bubbles off your back, “Just… maybe we should take a test in a few weeks…?”
His words sit in the steamy air. It’s his turn for his stomach to flip at your silence tonight.
You forgot a condom and while this isn’t the first time… you two usually use spermicide when you don’t feel like using one.
You didn’t use that either.
“Should… sh-should I take a trip to the pharmacy tomorrow?”
Now it’s your turn for your words to hang between you two. You feel a small breeze when his arm reaches past you to hang the shower head back up.
Then he pulls you closer, swaying you two back and forth.
“Would it freak you out if I said no?”
The concept of starting a family wasn’t foreign to you two. It’s been brought up multiple times within the three years you two have been together, there was just never a concrete plan.
You fully turn yourself around in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck, letting your wet fingertips massage his scalp.
“And if I said it wouldn’t?”
It was a game of tag at this point. Asking a question for the other to let it stew a bit before either responding completely or letting the tension build with their own question.
“I meant it when I said I burn for you.” He states, eyes low and tone serious, “The thought of starting a family with you doesn’t scare me. I burn for you and I burn for it.”
Your heart skips a beat, taking in his words, slowly nodding.
“I meant it when I said I bloom only for you, Cam. If you’re ready, I’m ready.”
A small grin twitches on your lips when you see his eyelashes bat, trying to keep his composure.
A moment of hot desire turned into something you hadn’t expected. A moment of pure sexual hunger turned into something so soft and domestic.
Something so wild turned into something so pure. You always knew Cameron was endgame. He called it before you even did, he wanted this *long before you did.
“I burn for you” is his way of saying “I love you”. Cameron is a complete and utter yearner, his feelings for you are so deep-seated that he hates to be away from you. Before, he didn’t mind traveling for games or being away for shoots and brand deals but since meeting you, it’s a different story.
You say “I bloom for you” as a response. Cameron was the first man to hold space for you. So that you can feel soft and delicate. The first man for you to feel safe enough to open up to and show who you are inside. He didn’t tear your petals off to steal the beauty and health for himself, no. He handled you with care to aid in your longevity.
The two of you brought out something in each other. Something that both of you were too cautious to show anyone before.
But it was worth it to wait.
To bloom and to burn is to love and live in all the glory and gritty feelings that love brings.
To bloom and to burn is to relish in the kisses that result in teeth clashing and the gentle touches that leave goosebumps in their wake.
To bloom and to burn is to not only call out each other’s name in the midst of lust but to whisper them in your sleep when the night is quiet.
To bloom and to burn is to, well… exactly that.
Bloom and Burn.
—————
If you’ve made it this far thank you for your attention and support!!
if you enjoyed, please make sure to comment, like and reblog! it helps a ton!!
Background- in which Sierra is stubborn because she can be
Cameron Cade x Sierra Naízen (oc)
Warnings: no smut(just can’t do it chat), some kisses, Cameron is so dense, Sierra is just a girl
𝑪𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑹𝑶𝑵 𝑲𝑵𝑬𝑾 𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑮𝑰𝑹𝑳 𝑾𝑨𝑺 𝑨𝑽𝑶𝑰𝑫𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑯𝑰𝑴, he could tell by the way she would brush him off when he’d plan something or the way she’d avoid his calls when he needed to reach her. It was honestly really starting to piss him off. Yesterday he had an entire day planned for them, he knew she needed a day to rest and he also knew he was her favorite person to do that with, or at least he was until she decided he wasn’t.
Sierra wasn’t one to be condescending or avoidant in her relationships but she never knew how to feel with Cameron. She was a complex ball of irritation and sarcasm wrapped in sex appeal and curves for days. Casey, Cameron’s sister and Sierra’s best friend knew what to make of their relationship way before they knew, she wasn’t exactly a big fan of them fraternizing around, but she wasn’t exactly one to stand in the way. Sierra and Cameron weren’t together but they weren’t not together, it was complicated.
Cameron was starting to get overly irritated. Which was very much like him, he was a man who ran on vexation and irritation, he couldn’t help it. Especially when it came to his girl. So here he was, on a Friday night, which he knew was her designated self care night, at her apartment. He didn’t knock because he had a key and quite frankly he wasn’t in the mood. He had just drove 45 minutes to her favorite flower shop and he wasn’t exactly sure what it was that he did in the first place but he knew he wasn’t leaving until it was safe between them.
Walking into her loft, the first thing he did was remove his shoes because she would kill him if not. Cameron could smell the strawberry and vanilla scented candle along with the strawberry body wash she used that drove him crazy. He made his way up the stairs to her very open room, all pink and cozy, and there she was in all her glory. Sierra Drew Naízen sat on her suede, black couch, long legs stretched and severely relaxed. She had her one piece set on (one of his personal favorites because of how she filled it out and all the right places) and her smooth silk pressed sew in laid flat on her shoulders, long and brown. Sierra stared deeply at her computer screen as Brent faiyaz played from her speakers and she had never looked more content.
God, he missed her. Cameron cleared his throat, just barely getting her attention as she glanced over her shoulder. “What the hell is up wit’ you Sierra?” He mugged walking towards her and placing the hibiscus flowers on her table (she gave them a longing glance that she hoped he missed) he grabbed her legs and placed them on his lap as he sat down.
She sighed, burrowing herself further back into the couch and getting herself comfy in his lap. “Are we ignoring each other now?” He closed her laptop and placed it on the table next to the flowers.
“Why are you here? Did we have plans?” Her voice was filled with irritation but he knew it was all deflection.
Cameron stared at her as if she had two heads, rolling his eyes, his hand squeezing and massaging her legs even though he felt as though she didn’t deserve it. “I ain’t know I needed plans to hang out with my girl.”
“Wasn’t aware i was your girl.”
“You give anybody else a hard time like this? Or is it just me, Sierra.”
Sierra’s face crinkled, reaching over to grab the flowers off the table, “what are these for?”
“For whatever I did wrong apparently.” Cameron scooted down into the cushions, her legs inching higher up on his lap. He laid a hand over his eyes because the day had been long and the person he called his peace was being everything but that.
Sierra rolled her eyes, staring at his tired face and then back at the flowers that laid in her lap. She wasn’t trying to be an asshole but he was so infuriating. Cameron Cade only wanted her on his time, he wanted to be a couple without being a couple, he wanted everything that came with a relationship without having to commit. Sierra was nothing short of a girl who fed on love, which meant having someone to share that with.
She was losing her damn mind, last week when she saw him hanging out at the club with a bunch of girls that weren’t her and his sleazy, slutty, annoying homeboys all gathered around, Sierra almost lost her damn mind. So she did the only reasonable thing she could think of; she went out and partied with her best friend, got a few numbers, had men paying for her drinks, and had the best time of her life. Unfortunately the entire time she was pressed against a random man, the only one she could think about was the selfish one who sat on her couch now.
“What was up wit’ you last week?”
“I was perfectly fine last week. Came home, went to practice, minded my business as usual. You got a problem with that?” She mugged, dropping the flowers down on the table and grabbing her remote from the side of her body, attempting to turn on a movie since he had decided she was done with her computer.
He reached over, confiscating the device from her, not missing the way she nudged her foot into his thigh. “Nigga, can you stop.”
“Talk to me, Sierra.” He knew he was pissing her off, it was actually his end goal. Piss her off so bad that she tells him what she really wants (idiot plan)
“Bro, you not bout’ to come in my house just to piss me off. Are you serious?”
“Bro?” He scoffed, gripping her left thigh, enjoying the plush feel of her because it had been a week without her being wrapped around him, he was dying.
“You are such an asshole, I swear.” She rolled her eyes as he pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist, hands moving on their own accord to grab her flesh. Her hands usual resting place around his shoulders had been abandoned and instead she crossed them over her chest.
“So let’s talk about why I’m an asshole.” He tapped her left cheek, which peaked through the bottom of her pajamas. Cameron Cade knew all the right things to do and say to have her body react to him, but her mind was a different story. If she had been one of the idiot girls who let him drive her to absolute insanity by having access to her mind, she wouldn’t know what to do, so she kept that part of herself an enigma.
“I’m really not in the mood.” She answered, playing with the strings on his sweats, loosening them a little.
“You could drive a nigga crazy, you know that?” Sierra scoffed, shifting in his lap to get comfortable, she assumed he was staying if he hadn’t already left and had seemed to be making himself at home on her favorite couch.
“Yea and you could just waltz right in my house with apology flowers and ya’ ass don’t even know what you apologizin’ for so I guess we both something special.” She pulled the hood from his head, getting an all star view at his freshly buzzed head as she ran her long acrylics across his scalp just the way he loved. God, Cameron could make the most gorgeous man in the room seem like an everyday regular man. He was so pretty and all she wanted was for him to be all for her because as much as she tried to fake it, nobody in this world had her like Cameron Cade did. Nobody fucked her like Cameron did, nobody spoke to her like Cameron did, and no one sure as hell put up with her the way Cameron did.
His eyes burned into her’s, taking in the feeling of her hands, he hadn’t felt her in a whole week and he hadn’t even gotten a kiss yet, he wouldn’t know what the fuck to do if she would actually let him have her body in the way he wanted to right now. “So tell me what I did, ace.” And this was him begging.
Her hands stilled at the nickname, dragging them down to ground herself, she wasn’t herself when he got all soft and understanding. She looked away, suddenly feeling the draft in her room which clashed his warm hands kneading her flesh. “I can’t...” She paused, genuinely starting to feel how embarrassing and annoying feelings could be.
“I can’t keep being casual with you.” There she is, he thought, trying to keep his grin to himself.
“It’s not what I am, it’s not who I am. When we started this I was okay with just being someone you slept with or whatever i was, but I can’t do that now. Cam I can’t even fuckin’ wake up and not think about what you’re doing or how you slept. It’s killing me. I mean you have a key to my damn apartment and you havent once asked me what I want from this, especially since the only person I’ve been craving for the last two years is you.” Her fingers danced along the pockets of his hoodie, dreading what he was thinking or what he was going to say. She could take rejection, it just was rare that it happened to her. She could feel her palms sweating and her pjs starting to make her feel naked in front of him.
“Come here.” She glanced up at him, feeling the way his hands ran up and down her sides, pulling her body closer. He wasn’t asking her, he was telling her.
“I need you to talk to me,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion he rarely showed. “Tell me how you’re feeling about shit. When you’re scared. When you’re too in your head. When you’re worried I’m drifting. When you’re pissed off at me—especially that. This ain’t one sided, Sierra, I’ve always been yours.”
“Yeah?”
“Hell yeah.”
“I’m sorry I avoided you all week.” She whispered, tracing his lips with her nails. Her pouty lips were kryptonite to any man with a brain, and who was he to deny his woman his forgiveness.
Wrapping a hand around her neck, he pulled her down for a long awaited kiss, and man was it down right nasty. Slow and apologetic, she let him have control, not really in the mood to be her usual preeminent self. His tongue assaulting her’s, allowing him to taste her in the way he wanted. She grounded herself against him, feeling how much he missed her in their week long hiatus.
Cameron assisted her actions, groaning when her hips sped up a little, he needed this to stop because a week without this had made him prone to cum right then and there, and he’d much rather do that when they were both fully naked and in a much more compromising position. “chill for a second, Sierra.” He mumbled into the kiss, placing a light slap to her ass.
She pulled away, dazed and a little giddy. She wiped his mouth free of her lipgloss, and looked down between them, noticing his uncomfortable situation. “Sorry.” Although she looked the farthest thing from sorry.
“It wasn’t fair of me to hold off on you for this long.” His hands decided to make this moment a lot more PG, he didn’t want to over-sexualize this conversation because he meant it a lot to him. “I think I’ve been yours for a long time. Sierra, will you do the honors of letting me be your boyfriend.”
She pretended to think about it for a second, trying not to give away the fact that she’d been wanting this since she was thirteen years old. “I mean if that’s what you want.”
He pinched the side of her stomach, earning a giggle from her, “Sierra.”
“Yea, I’ll let you be my boyfriend, Cade.” She led him back for another kiss, not leaving anything for imagination because he was her boyfriend and she could do that.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Summary :: After your husband gets into yet another saloon brawl being overprotective of you, you’re determined to give him the silent treatment to teach him a lesson. But he knows exactly how his charm and protectiveness affect you.
Pairing :: Cowboy!clark x reader
Cw :: nsfw :: p w/ plot :: overprotective/possessive clark :: smut & aftercare :: make up sex :: mentions of a bar fight :: pet names (honeysuckle, baby, darlin) :: unprotected sex :: praise kink :: v light angst :: rough handling :: est. relationship :: wall/holding :: exhibitionism (barn setting) :: no beta we die like men.
1.5k wc :: masterlist
“Y'know I can't help but be your bodyguard…” Clark’s voice is a low, honeyed drawl as he slips into the dimly lit barn, the heavy wooden door clicking shut behind him. He’s got that lazy tilt to his cowboy hat, looking entirely too smug for someone who just spent the last hour picking a fight with half the town at the saloon just because a man looked your way. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you — knows that his protective streak drives you crazy, even when you’re trying your hardest to freeze him out.
You keep your back turned, stubbornly wiping down the leather of an old saddle like it’s the most important job in the world. Your heart is hammering against your ribs, completely betraying the cold front you’re trying to put up. “Ain’t even gonna look at me, darlin’?” you hear the slow, deliberate thud of his boots getting closer.
You keep your eyes glued to the leather, but you can feel the heat radiating off him. He steps right into your space, his large frame completely blocking out the rest of the barn until he’s looming directly over your shoulder. 'Don't give in' — you think to yourself, biting the inside of your cheek. If you let him off easy, he’ll never learn to keep his temper on a leash.
“I was just lookin’ out for my girl — my wife,” he murmurs, his hot breath fanning against the shell of your ear. When you still don’t answer, he lets out a soft, amused scoff. He reaches around you, his gentle hands dropping onto yours to gently take the leather rag from your grip. You send a sharp glare backward — a look that says ‘you’re in trouble.’
He just grins, a roguish, dimpled thing that makes your knees instantly feel like jelly. “Yeah, I know.”
Clark hooks his fingers under your chin, tilting your face up until you have no choice but to look into those striking eyes of his. Before you can pull away, his other hand settles heavy and possessive on your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. He cradles you close, his thumbs tracing slow circles into your skin through the fabric of your shirt, rocking you ever so slightly to the rhythm of his own heartbeat. “Somebody’s gotta protect you, baby. Even if someone's knuckles are a little bloody for it. You really mad at me for that, huh?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer. He leans down, his lips brushing softly along your jawline, tracing down to the sensitive dip of your neck. A shaky sigh slips past your lips, your hands instinctively gripping the front of his shirt just to keep yourself upright.
“Show me how to make it up to you,” he whispers against your skin, his deep voice vibrating right through you. “You want me to beg, huh? Tell you I’m sorry, baby — get on my knees for you?” Clark slides his hands down, his palms skimming the curve of your hips, his touch growing heavier, more deliberate. His eyes are dark with a sudden, intense heat as he locks his gaze back onto yours.
He sinks lower, his hands sliding down the back of your thighs, lifting you effortlessly until you’re forced to wrap your legs around his waist. He backs you straight up against the sturdy wooden pillar of the barn, pressing his weight into you in a way that makes your thoughts completely scatter. The hard ridge of his length strains against his jeans, grinding slow and deliberate right between your thighs, right where you’re already aching and slick for him.
Clark buries his face in your neck, inhaling the scent of you like a dying man, his lips parting to press a warm, wet kiss right over your pulse point. His teeth graze the spot, just enough to pull a soft whimper from your throat. One big hand slips under your shirt, rough palm sliding up your bare skin until he’s cupping your breast, thumb circling your nipple until it tightens into a needy peak.
“Say it’s all fixed, honeysuckle,” he groans against your skin, rolling his hips forward in a filthy grind that has you clenching around nothing. “Tell me I’m doing a good job keeping you safe… say you’re mine.”
His fingers make quick work of your buttons, shoving your shirt open so he can drag his mouth lower. Hot, open-mouthed kisses trail down your chest until his lips close around your nipple, sucking hard while his tongue flicks in lazy strokes. You arch into him with a broken moan, fingers threading tight into his hair under that damn hat. “Clark…” his name comes out wrecked, half plea, half surrender.
He sets you down just long enough to yank your jeans open and shove them down your hips along with your panties, then he’s lifting you again, pinning you to the pillar with one strong arm while his free hand works his belt open. The thick head of his tip nudges against your slick folds, teasing, rubbing up and down until you’re trembling.
“That’s it, darlin’,” he breathes, voice rough as gravel. “Let me in.”
He pushes inside you in one slow, relentless thrust, stretching you open around him until he’s buried to the hilt. The burn is perfect, overwhelming. Clark groans deep in his chest, forehead pressed to yours, pupils dilated, hips rocking shallow and steady while you adjust to the full, heavy feel of him.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he rasps, starting to move harder, deeper, each thrust driving you up against the rough wood. The wet sound of skin meeting skin fills the quiet barn, mixing with your gasps and his low, filthy praises. One hand grips your ass, holdng you open for him while the other braces against the pillar, muscles flexing with every powerful stroke.
He fucks you like he fights — intense, possessive, completely focused on claiming what’s his. Every roll of his hips drags against that sweet spot inside you until your thighs shake around his waist and your nails dig into his shoulders.
“That’s my girl,” he growls against your mouth, kissing you deep and messy. “Come on, lil' honeysuckle. Give it to me. Let me feel you fall apart.”
The pleasure coils tight and snaps hard. You cry out, clenching around him as the orgasm crashes through you, waves of heat flooding every nerve. Clark curses softly, thrusts turning erratic and desperate until he buries himself deep one last time, pulsing hot inside you as he comes with a low, broken groan of your name.
For a moment, the only sounds are your ragged breathing and the creak of the barn settling around you. Clark stays buried deep, holding you close, pressing soft, lazy kisses along your shoulder like he can’t bear to let you go just yet. And just like that, the anger is completely gone, leaving you entirely at his mercy.
“I got you, darlin’… I got you,” he breathes against your temple, his voice droppin into a low, gravelly hum as the adrenaline begins to fade from both of you. He slips out of you with a soft, wet sound that makes you shudder, but before your feet can even touch the cold dirt floor, he’s lifting you right back into his arms, keeping your thighs hooked around his waist.
He carries you over to the workbench in the back corner, setting you down gently on the edge where his old flannel shirt is draped. Your legs are still trembling, your breath hitching as the cool air hits your bare skin, but Clark is already moving. He grabs a clean cloth from the shelf, tipping the water canteen over it until it’s damp.
“Look at me, honeysuckle,” he murmurs, kneeling right down between your thighs. When you look down at him, his hat is pushed back, his eyes soft and completely devoid of the heat from earlier. He’s incredibly gentle as he uses the cloth to wipe away the slick mess between your legs, his calloused thumbs trailing over the inside of your thighs to soothe the ache. “Still mad at your husband? Huh? Tell me the truth.”
You shake your head, reaching down to trace the slight bruise forming over his knuckles from the saloon fight. A soft, breathless laugh escapes you. “You’re such an idiot, Clark.”
“Yeah, but I’m your idiot,” he grins, leaning up to press a soft, lingering kiss right to the center of your chest, right over your heart. He helps you pull your panties and jeans back up, tugging your clothes into place with a tenderness that makes your chest ache. Once you’re put back together, he pulls you down off the bench and wraps his massive arms around you from behind, buried into the crook of your neck as you both just sway in the quiet barn. “Next time, I’ll try to be good. Promise. But ain’t nobody allowed to look at you like that. Not while I’m drawin’ breath.”
You had hit up your favorite plug, Ony. You were in need of some more weed and you just wanted to see him.
There had always been tension between the two of you. He would always flirt and you would entertain him. Y’all chilled together often, a few of those times leading to you and him in the back of his car locking lips. You weren’t really sure what your relationship with him was, but you knew he would come through any time you called. You were special like that.
Sitting in your mirror, you were touching up your hair when you got his text that he was outside. You slid on some slides and made your way to your front door to let him in. He was standing there and he looked good like he always did, crisp white tee that hugged his arms just right, low sitting gray sweats that allowed you to see his calvin klein waistband. He towered over you and you loved it.
He spread his arms waiting for you to appear in them. You gave him a hug, his arms wrapping around your waist as he put his face in your neck. “ ‘missed you mama. you look good, smell real nice.” Your voice was soft, “ i missed you too.” After embracing for a while, the two of you separated and he came inside. Ony loved coming to visit you, the pretty girl who he loved to smoke with. He wished that yall could figure out what y’all were doing, he liked you and it was clear you liked him. You were the only person who could get anything you wanted from him even if you didn’t know it. Even though it wasn’t in his plans, he was gon figure it out tonight.
He walked in behind you, eyes racking up and down your body. He bit his lip as he wished you would officially be his girl. You walked into the kitchen, Ony following close behind you. “You want something to eat or drink ‘fore we smoke?” you turned to face him, looking up at his face. His hands ghosted over your waist before finally settling there. “nah i got somethin’ to eat right here in front of me.” You quickly looked away from him, avoiding his eyes. Eye contact with Ony was always dangerous, it always led to him somehow ending up deep inside you and in your bed. You lightly smacked his chest “boy move around.” He let out a deep laugh that made your stomach flip.
“im being for’real but you keep playing wit’ me.” His thumbs rubbed slow circles into your hips as he looked at you. Your hands landed on his forearms, looking up at him “Ony go roll the damn blunt and stop tryna get in my pants.”
30 minutes later, the two of you are passing a beautifully rolled blunt back and forth. a mix of bryson tiller, party, and more are playing lowly in the background. y’all had been talking the whole time like usual. you had your legs in his lap, his hand rubbing slowly up your leg. it was a comfortable silence in the air as he enjoyed your company.
“So what you been up to mama?” Ony asked you as he leaned back on your couch. “not much, you know me, school and home.” you replied looking over at him. “what about you?” you reached over grabbing his hand, playing with his fingers. “same old, same old. living life. you need to stop being cooped up in the house.” he looked over at you, giving you a quick up and down. “boy boo, what is there for me to do? im not tryna be out all the time.” you said with a little laugh.
“you know you can always come wit’ me.” he said, giving you a smirk. you side eyed him, not trying to smile, “and why would i do that?”
he glanced over, admiring you. “what’re you looking at me for?” you asked with a giggle. he raised an eyebrow with a small smile on his face. “what? i cant look at you now?”
the two of you were just sitting there looking at each other for what felt like forever but was most likely a few seconds. “c’mere mama.” and before you could even react, he was pulling you closer to him. you were now basically sitting in his lap. “what was that for?” you questioned.
He gave you a shrug, “wanted you closer to me, s’all.” he looked down at you. You turned your head trying to not let him see you smile but that was stopped when you felt his hand under your chin. he turned your head back towards him. you felt the energy in the room shift as he looked at you. your hands slowly snaked up his chest to rest behind his neck before you pulled him down into a slow, deep kiss.
The kiss was slow yet tense, yall hadn’t seen each other in weeks, you had subconsciously missed him. His hands came up your thighs, gripping your hips trying to control himself. Your hands wrapped around his neck, fingers caressing the back of his head.
He grabbed your ankle, pulling you on top of him. The two of you pulled away from the kiss breathing heavy. Your hands had landed on his chest and his had found their place back on your hips. “ony… im not tryna keep doing this. i don’t even know whether you fucking wit’ other bitches.” you crossed your arms, looking him dead in his eyes. “mama you know me, you the only girl im fucking wit. i don’t even move like that. i been tryna get you to be my girl, you ain’t notice?” your facade slowly cracked under the surface. The sincerity in his deep voice, the look in his eyes, just him as a person. “i noticed. i always thought you were just a sweet talker so i tried not to fall for it.” “a sweet talker? ion even talk to people like that, you the main person i talk to other than the guys. i just want you to take me serious.” his hands ran up and down your thighs, his eyes never leaving your face.
There was a small silence between the two of you, the words said hanging in the air.
“let me show you how serious i am mama.”
less than 10 mins later you were sprawled out in your bed, clothes discarded throughout your room, ony’s shirt tossed somewhere. he was in between your legs, making you see stars. his tongue making slow circles around your clit as two of his fingers curled inside of you. “o-ony.. fuck.” you whined out. he looked up at you, eyes low as his mouth stayed attached to you. he let out a deep hum, vibrating through your body. “come on mama stop movin’. “
he continued his assault on your clit, his actions speeding up as he felt you squeeze him. your body froze as your back arched off the bed. “oh my- fuckkk” your hands flew to try and push Ony off of you. he reached up and intertwined your hands with his. after a few more seconds he came up, the bottom of his face covered with your fluids. you were breathing heavily, legs sprawled out.
“you good? we just getting started.”
one of your legs were folded to your chest, the other as he lined himself up. he slowly slid in feeding you inch after inch. your hands were on his biceps, nails digging in. “shittt there you go let me in baby.” when he finally bottomed out inside you, you swore you could see a bulge at the bottom of your stomach. he slowly pull back a little before sliding right back into you. you let out a whine and that only encouraged him to start moving. he was feeding you nice, even strokes. you were whining out his name, hands gripping any part of him that you could. “onyyyy baby faster please.” you begged him. “i gotchu pretty.”
your other leg was folded to your chest right before he started drilling you at an insane pace. it was like he knocked the wind out of your lungs. all that could be heard throughout the room was the sound of skin slapping together, ony’s deep voice, and your moans and whines. he was fucking you so good you couldn’t even get a word out. “you still think i’m playin wit you?” all you could do was let out a broken moan in response. “n-no!” ony’s eyes took in the whole image of you. big, watery eyes looking up at him like he was the only thing in the world, lips swollen from kissing, the hickeys on your neck he had purposely placed to claim you and then his eyes flicked down. looking at where the two of you were connected, your pussy swallowing up his dick, the wet sounds it made as he went in and out of you. he couldn’t get enough, there was no way he was finna come up off of you now. you were his girl no matter what.
just when you thought his pace couldn’t get any faster, it did. his hands moved from holding up your legs to your hips and he started jack rabbiting you. “oh-oh- my godddd ony don’t stop please”
your moans were like music to his ears and he had no intention to stop listening. he quickly flipped you over onto your stomach before slipping back in. he pressed his hand into your back, forcing you to hold your arch. “hold it just like that for me mhm, so fuckin’ pretty.” he couldn’t resist you, no matter how hard he tried. he was fucking the shit outta you, you were dick dumb at this point. “you my girl? you not going nowhere right?” he asked you, slightly slowing down the pace. “y-yes ony! im your girl!” your hand reached back, trying to slow him down but that did nothin as he grabbed it. intertwining your fingers with his once more as he held it to your back.
“you not going nowhere mama, you mine.”
you couldn’t hold on much longer, your body was about to snap. “shitt im finna cum, ony fuck!” he kept fucking you at that pace, hitting that specific spot till the both of you came at the same time. “yeaa let me have it mama, let it out.”
you slumped forward as ony fell beside you. he pulled you into his arms, holding you against his chest, pressing kisses to your forehead. “you know i meant everything i said right?” he asked you, wanting confirmation that it wasn’t just in the moment for you. “ony are you being serious wit me? you really want me to be your girl?” you replied back, looking up at him sleepily. “mama how much more serious i gotta be? i want you to be my girl for real.”
“then yes.” you said laying your head back into his chest. “imma take you on a real nice date tomorrow i promise. now sleep pretty.” he placed one final kiss on your lips before drifting off to sleep with a smile on his face.
tonight’s special: geto, backstage head & a mirror view.
→ suguru geto x black!reader
→ rockstar au | dressing room sex | mirror play |oral (f receiving) | creampie | squirting |dom!geto |nasty dirty talk
༊·˚ 𓆩♡𓆪 ˚·༊
you stare at your phone looking at the clips you just took of your boyfriend on stage
he’s so fine. you wanna jump his bones so bad it’s actually embarrassing.
well, at least you’ll get to see him.
right now he’s still doing a meet & greet.
you’re just scrolling through your phone when—
“where’s my favorite fan at?”
you look up.
and there he is.
fresh off stage.
sweaty. shirt clinging to his chest. towel around his neck.
still holding that damn marker.
you don’t even think.
“right here,” you grin.
he doesn’t say anything back. just grabs your waist, pulls you in, and kisses you
not a sweet kiss.
a filthy one.
wet, messy, tongue everywhere.
his hand slips around your neck, thumb under your jaw, holding you in place while he devours your mouth like he missed it.
you’re breathless when he pulls back.
“damn,” he mumbles, licking his lips. “been thinkin’ about that all night.”
you blink up at him, still dazed.
“you’re disgusting.”
he grins.
“where should i sign?”
you don’t answer.
just turn around. bend.
he whistles.
“ohhh, you nasty,” he laughs, low in his throat.
but he signs your ass anyway.
then he slaps it. not hard, but enough to make it jiggle.
“damn,” he mutters, watching the bounce. “you tryna get fucked right here, huh?”
you stand up, smirking as you turn around
he’s still staring at your ass like it did something to him.
you grab him by the collar.
pull him in.
and just like that, your lips crash together
messy, needy, like you’ve both been starving all night.
he kisses you like he doesn’t care who hears. tongue and teeth, breath hot against yours, hand slipping right back to grab what he just signed.
“mmh,” he groans into your mouth, squeezing. “you know what you’re doing with that little skirt, huh?”
your back bumps into the table behind you.
he keeps kissing you.
hands everywhere.
you lean back, breathing hard, lips swollen, skirt bunched up around your waist.
he drops to his knees like it’s second nature.
like this is a ritual.
“spread,” he murmurs, voice low. “c’mon, lemme see it.”
you do.
he hooks his fingers in your panties, slides them down slow—grinning when he sees how wet you already are.
“all this for me?” he teases, thumb brushing your inner thigh, mouth way too close.
his tongue slides up—flat and slow—before he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks.
hard.
your body jerks.
a moan rips out your throat before you can catch it—loud, shameless, filthy.
“s-suguru—fuck—”
he grins against you.
like he knew exactly what that would do.
and then he does it again.
your thighs are shaking already, but he’s nowhere near done.
he slides one hand up, slips two fingers inside you—slow, then deep.
you clench around him immediately.
“mm, you’re tight,” he mutters, half to himself. “grippin’ my fingers like you missed me.”
he curves them just right—pressing deep, then curling, hitting that spot that makes you see stars.
then he goes back to sucking your clit.
wet. loud. sloppy.
your moans go breathless.
your hands are gripping the edge of the table.
you feel like you’re unraveling in slow motion.
he pulls back for a second, just to watch.
your hips twitching.
your lips parted.
your pussy soaking his fingers.
“look at that,” he says, voice all low and ruined.
his fingers pump in and out with a squelch that echoes.
“you’re fuckin’ creaming, baby.”
and you are.
a mess down there.
his chin’s shiny. his fingers are soaked.
your thighs are trembling.
then he leans in and sucks again.
you damn near scream.
your orgasm hits hard too hard.
his fingers are still deep inside you, and he doesn’t stop. doesn’t let you come down gently.
he stands, crowding your body, lips crashing into yours as you’re still gasping.
his fingers still moving inside you slower now, but still deep, still curling, still stroking every bit of you from the inside out.
he grabs your neck while he kisses you.
not hard. just… possessive. like he wants to feel your pulse on his fingertips. wants to feel how wrecked you are how hard he’s got you falling apart for him.
your body trembles as you break all over again.
your legs jerk. your pussy clenches around his fingers, and—
you squirt.
a soft, messy rush that makes him groan into your mouth.
he pulls back just to look down.
his hand still there, fingers glistening, his palm soaked.
“god damn,” he breathes.
then he slaps your pussy once, light but dirty just to hear the sound.
“look at this mess,” he smirks, rubbing your slick over your folds. “you squirted all over my fuckin’ hand, nasty girl.”
you’re still trembling. barely breathing. but he’s already moving.
he grabs your waist, lifts you off the table like you weigh nothing, and brings you to the little black couch in the corner of his dressing room.
“lay back,” he tells you softly, setting you down like you’re something delicate even though you’re still dripping down your thighs.
you do as he says. your chest heaving. eyes half-lidded. skin flushed.
he leans over you, eyes never leaving yours, and loosens his belt with one hand.
the sound of the buckle makes you shiver.
“don’t think we’re done,” he murmurs, pulling his pants down just enough, cock already hard.
he strokes himself once slow and teasing before grabbing you under your thighs again.
“you still need more.”
and then he’s pulling you on top of him.
guiding you right where he wants you.
you’re barely upright.
body limp, legs jelly, brain gone. your thighs are still trembling from the last orgasm, and you’re breathing like you just ran a marathon. but he’s not done not even close.
he pulls you onto his lap, thick, veiny cock sliding into you slow—and your head tilts back.
he stretches you open all over again, but deeper now, thicker now.
your fingers claw weakly at his chest.
“too much,” you mumble.
“nah, baby,” he breathes, kissing your neck, one hand already gripping your ass.
“you said you missed me. so take it.”
and then he starts bouncing you.
hard.
his hands are full of your ass, guiding you up and down his cock like you’re a toy.
he’s strong so strong. you can’t even move on your own, not with how weak you feel, not with how deep he’s hitting. he’s doing everything. all you can do is take it.
the couch creaks under both of you. your pussy’s wet and loud, clapping against him every time he pulls you down, and his head falls back with a low groan.
slap.
his palm lands on your ass.
you gasp.
“look up,” he pants.
your eyes flutter open.
right across from you just like he said is the vanity mirror.
you can see everything.
your fucked-out expression. the way your body bounces on his dick. the way his grip spreads across your ass, pulling you down onto him, making you ride.
he’s leaned back, watching you through the mirror.
smirking. proud. messy hair. sweat on his chest. tattoo flexing with every movement.
“look at yourself,” he murmurs against your shoulder. “look how good you look takin’ this dick.”
your mouth falls open. you moan out loud at the sight.
the visual turns your whole body to static.
you can’t take it.
you whimper, hide your face in his neck.
“nah, don’t hide now,” he chuckles, still bouncing you. “you was takin’ it so good a second ago. come on, baby, look.”
but you can’t.
you can’t.
he’s everywhere. in you, under you, all around you.
“fuck, baby… look at you.”
his voice is low, slurred with lust, as he watches you in the mirror.
you’re unraveling right there in his lap moaning, eyes rolled back, tears slipping down your cheeks while he keeps you bouncing on his dick.
“you see that?” he pants, thrusting up into you harder. “look at the way you cream on me.”
your thighs start to tremble again. your mouth drops open.
your moans get high, breathy, loud.
“oh my god—sugu—*fuck—*i’m—”
“i know,” he growls, one hand gripping your waist tight, the other gripping your ass. “let it out. lemme see it.”
you cry out, scream his name, your whole body tensing before it shakes.
your legs give out. your pussy clamps down, milking him, soaking him. the sight in the mirror is filthy your face twisted, his hands holding you open, the way you squirt all over him as you come.
“shit— fuck— baby…”
his breath catches.
his grip tightens.
and then he’s gone moaning low, spilling deep inside you, hips jerking uncontrollably. he bounces you a few more times, watching the way your pussy keeps sucking him in, like you need it.
“fuck, look at that,” he huffs, head dropping back, still watching the mirror. “you just took every drop.”
you’re both panting. sweaty. boneless.
and then—
knock knock knock.
“hello” a voice calls out, too casual.
“are you guys finally done in there? we’re tryna head out.”
you freeze.
“gojo,” suguru groans, dropping his head to your shoulder.
you’re still sitting on his lap. he’s still inside you.
you both just bust.
and now he’s knocking like he didn’t just hear all that?
“we’ll be out in a sec,” suguru calls back, voice strained.
you both look at each other.
and then you both start laughing.
a breathless, sweaty, post-nut laugh.
you bury your face in his chest.
“remind me to never let you perform in leather pants again,” you mumble.
he grins, pulling you closer.
“remind me to always fuck you in my dressing room.”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
it’s a chill evening. you’re curled up on the couch in your little pajama set soft, thin, the tv hums low in the background, something you’ve half-watched while scrolling on your phone. you’re relaxed. cozy.
then you hear the front door unlock.
your head lifts slightly.
click.
he steps in.
onyankopon.shoulders broad and jaw sharp, duffel bag slung over one shoulder, wearing that tight black compression shirt and some low-hanging grey sweats that sit just right. his skin’s still glistening slightly from the cold night air. he kicks the door closed with his heel and just stands there for a second.
he looks pissed.
is it bad that your first thought is: damn… he looks so good like this.
he sees you on the couch and makes his way over without a word. his face is tight, unreadable, but his body moves on muscle memory he leans down, kisses your cheek, pulls you into a one-armed hug that lingers longer than it should for someone that mad.
you blink up at him, all sweet.“rough day?” you ask.
his jaw tightens. he nods once. “you could say that,” he mutters. his voice is low,.“i’m gonna shower.”
he walks off. jaw clenched, back tight, arms swinging just a little harder than usual. the bathroom door shuts with a solid click.
and you just sit there.
…kinda turned on.
like, why did that make your coochie jump?
you bite your lip. a little smirk creeps in. this man is fine all the time, but angry? frustrated? chest rising, lips pressed into a hard line, talking with that heavy silence like he’s trying not to take it out on anyone?
yeah. that does something to you.
you glance toward the bathroom. you wait.
and then you get up and walk over to your shared bedroom.
he’s mad. but he’s your man. and you’re about to turn that steam into something productive.
you’re laying on the bed, phone in hand, half-scrolling, half-listening to the sound of the shower running in the bathroom.
minutes pass.
then the door opens.
onyankopon steps out hair damp, towel slung low around his waist, water dripping from his chest, trailing down the dips and lines of his abs. he doesn’t say anything. just walks straight into the closet. you peek at him through your lashes, pretending to still be on your phone.
he comes back out dressed in some loose grey sweats and a plain t-shirt, still drying off his neck with the towel. he climbs into bed next to you, grabbing his phone, but he’s not really on it. his face is tight again. not as sharp as before, but still heavy.
you study him quietly for a second, then slide your phone onto the nightstand. roll onto your side and press into his warmth, eyes soft. you scoot closer, watching him for a second you press a soft kiss to his shoulder, your voice calm. “what happened at practice?” you ask gently. “why you so mad?”
he exhales slowly, like he’s trying to keep it together. “coach was on bullshit again,” he mutters. “talking down. blaming me for shit that wasn’t even mine. i’m not stupid i know what it is. he’s picking at me.”
you run your fingers along his arm, soothing. “you don’t deserve that, baby.”
he looks at you, eyes tired. “it’s just frustrating. i work too hard to be treated like that. and it’s not even just me. it’s the whole team. the energy’s fucked up now.”
“and you feel all of it,” you say quietly,”cause you’re sensitive. you feel everything. it gets in your body.”
he nods. “we’re connected. if the vibe’s off, i feel it.”
you press another kiss to his jaw, your voice warm. “yeah, but baby… you gotta protect yourself too. you can’t hold all that weight all the time.”
he doesn’t answer. just breathes a little deeper.
you slide your hand over his stomach, fingertips brushing the hem of his shirt. “you need to stop stressing,” you whisper. “it’s not good for you.”
his voice is soft now. “i’m trying.”
you smile, eyes still on him. “let me help.”
you drag your fingers lower, slow and gentle, caressing the dips of his abs. his muscles twitch under your touch. he watches you, lips parted like he’s about to say something, but then your hand drifts even lower, tracing along the waistband of his sweatpants.
“you gotta start relaxing,” you say, featherlight. “let me take care of you.”
you cup him through his sweats—he’s already heavy, warm. your palm presses in slow, rubbing soft.
he hisses between his teeth. “baby…”
you smirk, voice dipped in honey. “shh. just relax.”
you tug the waistband down and his cock springs free, hard and waiting. you look up at him from between his legs, big eyes gleaming.
“let me help you forget everything.”
you lower your head, licking a slow stripe from base to tip, your tongue warm and wet and teasing. his hips jerk, breath catching in his throat.
“fuck…”
you wrap your lips around his tip, suck gently, then sink down deeper, inch by inch, until you feel him hit the back of your throat.
“shit, just like that…”
you moan around him low and deep and the vibration makes him groan, his hand finding your hair. you bob your head slow at first, building rhythm, spit dripping down onto your hands, your chest, your sheets.
your throat’s stuffed full but your eyes never leave his. he’s falling apart under you head back, chest rising, abs clenching every time you sink lower.
“goddamn,” he mutters, voice hoarse. “that mouth… baby…”
you gag on it a little, spit sliding down your chin, but you don’t stop. you want him dizzy. soft. putty. he grips the sheets groaning.
you pull off with a pop, spit connecting your lips to his tip. and then you go right back down—ready to make him forget every single thing but the way your mouth feels wrapped around him.
you use both hands, twisting at the base while your mouth works his tip, spit dripping down your wrists. his thighs tense, one hand on the back of your head, pushing—not too hard, but enough to let you know he’s close.
“fuck, baby… i’m bout to cum…”
you keep going. sucking deeper. faster. your eyes roll back as you moan around him, and he groans so loud it echoes off the walls. he bucks his hips once, twice and then he’s spilling down your throat. hot. thick. salty. you swallow it all like a good girl, slow and greedy.
before you can even wipe your mouth, he’s pulling you up “c’mere”grabbing your waist and sliding you into his lap, straddling his thick thighs.
he kisses you. full tongue, no hesitation. hand in your hair, breathing hard, like he’s trying to taste himself on your lips.
you melt into it. moaning into his mouth.
and then he flips you. like nothing. strong hands gripping your hips, spinning you so you’re under him. he kisses your neck, trails his mouth down to your collarbone, sucking on your skin like he wants to mark it.
“you so fuckin’ sweet,” he murmurs between kisses. “sittin pretty on this bed, actin innocent… you was just suckin me like you tryna snatch my soul”
his hand slips under your shorts, fingers rubbing slow, soft circles over your clit.
you gasp. hips twitching. “ony…”
he kisses you again, deeper this time. two fingers rubbing your clit just right, and you’re moaning in his mouth, legs already shaking.
“you needed this, huh?” he breathes. “wanted me all mad so i’d fuck it outta you?”
you whimper. “maybe…”
“mmhm.” he pulls your shorts down slow. you take off your shirt. bare now, under his heavy gaze.
“turn over,” he says, voice dark and low.
you obey.
he slides in slow, groaning as he bottoms out. your pussy tight, wet, hugging every inch. he stays there for a second, hand on your ass, hips flush against yours.
“this how you wanna relieve my stress?” he mutters, grinding slow. “with that perfect lil pussy?”
you moan, face buried in the sheets. “yes.”
he starts to move. deep, strong strokes. the kind that clap loud, that make the bed knock against the wall. you arch your back, biting your lip, trying to fuck back like he wants.
“c’mon,” he grunts, slapping your ass. “fuck back for me. lemme feel that shit.”
you try. hips moving. but he’s too deep, too good. your body starts to fold under the pressure.
“i can’t,” you whine.
“yes you can,” he says, grabbing your waist, drilling into you harder. “this what you wanted, right?”
you nod into the mattress, moaning like crazy. “mhm yes fuck, yes.”
he puts one leg up on the bed, foot planted, and starts to fuck into you deeper. harder.
“yeah,” he groans. “take it.”
you moan out. not even words. just a mess of sounds and whimpers as his cock stretches you out, fucking into the softest parts of you.
you start trying to crawl forward, weakly. he grabs your hips and yanks you back.
“where you goin’?” he pants. “nah. take it.”
you’re rolling into the sheets, fingers clawing at the bedspread. “ony baby i can’t—”
“yes you can.” his strokes get deeper. more punishing. “you made me feel better, right? now i’m returnin’ the favor.”
he hits your spot so good it makes your toes curl. your whole body trembling.
“shit, this pussy so fuckin’ good,” he grunts. “got me ready to lose my mind.”
and then he pulls out with a groan, stroking himself fast.
you barely turn your head before you feel it—thick ropes of cum hitting your ass, warm and wet, painting your skin in heavy, hot streams. so much. way more than expected.
you blink, dazed, trying to catch your breath.
he leans over, kissing your back. “damn…” he whispers. “you drained the fuck outta me.”
you laugh, breathless. “you’re welcome.”
he kisses your shoulder. “you good?”
you hum
he disappears for a moment, and you feel the bed shift as he comes back with a warm towel. he’s quiet, focused, gentle cleaning you up like you’re something delicate. something he treasures.
“thank you,” you murmur, your voice soft, lazy, still swimming in the afterglow.
he tosses the towel to the side and slides back into bed, pulling you into him. his arms wrap around you, broad and warm, and you sink into his chest like it’s the only place you’re supposed to be.
fingers trace slow patterns along your spine. the room is quiet now, just the soft hum of the tv and your steady breathing. you rest your head on his shoulder.
“so…” you whisper, lips brushing against his skin. “did i relieve your stress?”
he chuckles low, kissing your forehead.
“yeah,” he says. “you did. more than i knew i needed.”
tonight’s special: connie springer, fresh piercings, & polaroids that can’t go in the family photo album.
→ connie springer x black!reader
→ smut | established relationship | married au | polaroid porn
a/n:this was a request i switched it up a little though
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
you and connie hadn’t seen each other in what felt like forever.
sure, the late-night calls, the facetime marathons, the blurry, half-asleep selfies kept you sane but it wasn’t the same.
nothing compared to seeing your man in person. feeling him.
and now, finally, after all these months, he’s back.
naturally, you’ve got a little surprise waiting for him one you know he’s gonna lose his mind over.
there’s a knock at your door, and when you open it there he is.
connie.
standing there, all tall and pretty. hoodie thrown on, buzzcut fresh, chain peeking under his collar, rings catching the light when he adjusts his sleeve.
leaning on your doorframe like he owns the place. like he owns you.
you hate him so bad.(you love him with with your whole entire heart)
and yeah, your thighs already clenching. embarrassing.
fuck, you missed him bad.
you damn near launch yourself at him arms around his neck, legs locked at his waist. it’s messy, rushed, like you’re scared he’ll disappear if you let go.
his arms come around you fast, tight, holding you like it’s been years.
“con, i missed you,” you mumble against his lips.
he kisses you back. “baby, i missed you too.”
he walks inside, kicks the door shut with his foot, locks it with one hand never letting you go.
he drops onto the couch with you still clinging to him, your arms loose around his neck now, legs sliding down to his lap.
his hand settles on your thigh, thumb rubbing circles absentminded.
“you good though?” he asks, eyes scanning your face, all serious now. “everything been straight while i was gone?”
you nod, leaning into his chest, breathing him in. “mmhm. just… missed you.”
“i know, baby,” he murmurs, squeezing your leg. “but like… for real. work been good? your manager still annoying?”
you snort, tucking your face in his neck. “annoying is an understatement.”
he chuckles, that soft, deep laugh you missed bad. “you need me to go up there?”
“connie,” you whine, laughing. “you always trying to fight somebody.”
“i’m not playin’,” he smirks, hand sliding up your back. “but nah… really. you okay? been eating? sleeping? you be stressing yourself when i’m not around.”
you roll your eyes, but your chest gets all warm. “i’m okay. promise.”
his hand cups your jaw, turning your face so you look at him. “lemme see.”
you blink up at him, heat rising in your face again.
“hm. pretty… but you look like you been stressin’,” he teases, thumb brushing your cheek. “told you, i can’t leave you alone too long.”
you lean back, hands on his chest, just staring at him.
“why you looking at me like that?” he teases, grinning, head tilted back on the cushion.
you roll your eyes, but your face heating up gives you away.
“i’m just—” you pause, biting your lip. “i missed you, con.”
his grin softens. his hand slides under the back of your hoodie, fingers tracing your spine.
“missed you too, pretty girl,” he says, voice low, lazy like he’s already settling in. “house feel empty without me?”
you hum, twisting his chain between your fingers. “felt depressing. hated it.”
he laughs, all smug, because he knows you’re dramatic. “i was gone for a while.”
“too long,” you argue, pouting now, still playing with his chain. “was losing my mind.”
he leans in, forehead pressed to yours. “losing your mind, huh? how bad?”
“so bad, connie,” you breathe, lips already brushing his. the kiss happens naturally slow at first, but it turns sloppy fast, all tongue and teeth, both of you pulling back breathless.
“fuck, baby… i missed you so bad… i need you right now,” he mutters, hands already on your thighs, lifting you easy as breathing.
he carries you to the bedroom, laying you out on the bed like it’s muscle memory. his hoodie’s off you in seconds and that’s when his brain stops working.
what the fuck.
your nipples. pierced.
he’s weak.
he might actually pass out.
no wonder you were dodging all his attempts at phone sex. sneaky little thing.
“you okay?” you ask, teasing, watching his eyes stay glued to your chest.
“what’s this?” his voice is wrecked already, fingers ghosting your ribs like he can’t believe you’re real.
“a piercing,” you say simply, biting back a grin.
he exhales like you just put him through cardiac arrest. “you tryna kill me or what, baby?” he shakes his head, still stunned. “can i… can i touch ‘em?”
you nod, and his hand’s on you fast, thumb brushing over your nipple, breath stuttering, cursing under his breath.
he could cum from this alone. fuck.
next thing you know, he’s digging through your drawer, pulling out the polaroid camera.
“connie—”
“shh, shh, stay right there,” he smirks, raising the camera, eyes dark. “i gotta document this.”
the flash goes off, and you already know you’re never hearing the end of this.
The camera flashes again as he takes another picture, fingers trembling slightly when he lowers it to look at you really look at you.
His eyes darken, jaw clenched so tight it looks like it hurts. “I really married you… fuck,” he groans under his breath, dragging a hand down his face like he’s overwhelmed. His eyes flick back to your chest, tongue swiping his lip. “I wanna propose all over again.”
Before you can laugh, his mouth is on you hot, desperate, lips wrapped around your pierced nipple, tongue swirling, sucking until your back arches and your hand fists in his hair.
“Take a picture,” he murmurs against your skin, voice low and wrecked.
You barely manage to grab the camera with shaky hands, snapping a photo of him sucking your tits like he’s starving. The flash goes off he doesn’t even flinch.
and then he’s tugging your shorts down, slow at first… until he sees it.
it’s like his whole body freezes.
the christina piercing catches the light glistening, sinful, taunting him.
he stares, breath leaving him in a shaky exhale. “you… you really did this,” he mutters, eyes wide, completely thrown. “i- baby… what the fuck.”
“connie…” you whisper, but your voice breaks when he palms your thighs, spreading you open.
“y/n.”his voice dips lower, sharp with disbelief. “that’s why you wouldn’t let me talk nasty on the phone, huh? you’ve been hiding this from me?”
you nod, lip caught between your teeth, trying not to smile.
his hands slide down your hips, thumbs brushing over the dermals glittering by your waist, the belly ring peeking under your hoodie and he looks like he might combust on the spot.
“trying to kill me,” he mutters, leaning in. “you really trying to fucking kill me.”
before you can answer, he spits right on your clit, watching the piercing glisten under the mess. his mouth follows instantly, tongue flattening against you, sucking, licking, desperate like he’s been starving the entire trip.
your hand flies to his hair, tugging as you moan loud hips jerking when he groans into you, vibrations shooting up your spine.
his fingers slide in, curling perfectly, stroking that soft spot until your thighs shake.
“fuck, fuck, connie —” your voice breaks as you cum hard, eyes rolling back, thighs clamping around his head.
but he doesn’t stop his fingers thrust deeper, his mouth greedy on your clit, like he’s making up for every second he was gone.
“missed me that bad?” he teases, voice wrecked between licks.
you nod helplessly, whining as your body trembles, knowing he’s only getting started.
he takes a picture of your pussy first.
you’re already wet, lips parted soft and shiny, the flash going off just as your legs twitch. you flinch at the sound, then look up at him — and connie’s grinning.
“you already this messy for me, baby?” he asks, voice low as he lowers the camera. “fuck… you’re so perfect. gonna fill this whole roll tonight.”
he sets the camera down for a second, just long enough to pull his clothes off, eyes never leaving you. you let your knees fall open more on instinct a little tease and he groans under his breath, cock hard and heavy against his stomach.
he slides closer, fist wrapped around the base of it, and drags the tip slow across your clit.
you moan, soft and needy.
he taps it once. again. a few times in a row light, lazy smacks that make your hips jerk.
“connie,” you mumble, breath catching. your thighs twitch, already clenching on nothing.
“shh,” he mutters, voice thick with lust. “lemme play with it a sec.”
“you been thinking about me fucking you, huh? thinkin’ about me seein’ all these new piercings?”
he lines himself up, cock sliding in slow thick, deep and your mouth drops open in a loud moan. he groans low, gripping your thighs as he bottoms out.
“fuck, baby… you feel so good… shit.”
you hold your legs back, thighs trembling, eyes glassy. he takes a picture, flash bright against your skin.
“connie,” you mumble, voice wrecked.
“let me take my pictures, baby,” he breathes, snapping another one, this time angled down where your pierced nipples bounce with every thrust. “gotta document my wife looking this fuckin’ sexy.”
he starts to move slow strokes that feel too deep too fast and you choke on a moan, body clenching around him.
“look at you,” he pants, staring at your chest. “nipples all pierced like a fuckin’ fantasy. they bounce every time i fuck you, baby. shit’s driving me insane.”
you whimper, back arching off the mattress.
“what made you even do this, huh? tryna surprise me? tryna act like i wouldn’t lose my fuckin’ mind?”
he leans over you, hips snapping hard, pushing deeper. the chain around his neck swings forward and brushes your skin.
“you was hiding this pretty shit from me the whole time i was gone…”
he grabs your tits, thumbs brushing over the metal, making you jolt under him.
“look how sensitive you are now,” he groans. “shit, baby. you know how long i’ve dreamed about this?”
you cry out when his hips grind against you, the piercing on your clit brushing against his pelvis every time he thrusts.
“fuck— feels even better with that new jewelry on,” he groans, picking up speed. “pussy damn near sucking me in.”
you clench around him, eyes rolling, and he knows you’re close.
“come on, pretty girl. cum on this dick.cream all over this dick”
he slams into you, relentless, until you’re gasping his name and shaking underneath him, legs wrapped tight around his waist.
the camera flashes again.
he flips you over easy, hands firm on your hips, pressing you down into the mattress like he’s claiming you all over again.
you feel him pause behind you.
you know what he’s looking at.
his hand smooths up your back, fingertips grazing the tattoo along your spine — the one you got two years ago, delicate arabic script inked right between your dermals.
“مَا زِلْتُ أَنْهَضُ، رَغْمَ كُلِّ شَيْءٍ.”
i still rise, despite everything.
he doesn’t say a word. just leans in, lips brushing over the ink, slow and reverent, his palm spreads over your back, holding you there quiet, grounding, full of unspoken love.
his lips place soft kisses down your back, lips brushing your piercings, tongue flicking over one.
“fuck,” he mutters, almost to himself. “still so fuckin’ fine… i missed this view, baby.”
you gasp when he smacks your ass, hard enough to make it jiggle, the sting blooming warm across your skin. he spreads you open, groaning when your folds glisten back at him.
“look at this pussy. look at this pretty ass fuckin’ creaming for me already,” he hisses, sliding his cock between your folds, teasing again.
you don’t even get to whine before he slides in again, deep and sharp, and your face hits the sheets as a cry rips out your throat.
“oh my god, connie—”
he grabs your hips and pulls you back onto him, slamming deeper.
“yeah? that what you needed?” he grunts.”you needed to be fucked like this?”
you’re sobbing already. the kind of sobs that come from too much pleasure. too much missing him. too much everything.
“i-i missed you,” you hiccup between moans, eyes tearing up. “missed your dick, connie, i—”
“i know, baby. shhh. i know,” he coos, but his hips don’t slow. “missed this pussy too. fuckin’ perfect. so wet, so tight. feels like you tryna pull my soul out.”
he grabs the polaroid, shaky with one hand, but he still gets the shot flash bright against your skin, catching the curve of your back, the tattoo, the dermals, the mess dripping down your thighs.
“fuck,” he groans, looking at the print, then at you. “pose for me, baby. look back.”
you can barely move, but you do it turning your tear-streaked face toward the camera, biting your lip as your hips keep slapping against his.
he groans, taking the photo. “goddamn, you so pretty. my perfect girl. you look so good takin’ this dick.”
another slap to your ass.
another thrust, deeper than before.
you feel your orgasm building, sharp and fast and mean.
“c-connie,” you sob. “i’m— i’m gonna—”
“cum for me,” he growls, voice thick, hand coming down to rub your clit fast. “make a mess on this dick. you know how much i missed seein’ you cream all over me.”
you shatter.
loud. messy. crying out his name like it’s the only word you know.
you clench around him so tight he chokes on a moan, hips stuttering before he’s spilling inside you, deep and hot.
his cum leaks out around his dick, down your thighs, dripping to the sheets.
he pulls out slowly, watching it ooze, groaning as he reaches for the polaroid again.
“fuck, baby… i’m takin’ a picture of this.”
you’re too gone to answer, face buried in the sheets, but you hear the camera click.
“film’s gonna run out,” you mumble weakly, body still shaking.
he laughs, all breathless, kissing your shoulder. “i know you got more in that drawer. don’t play.”
your body’s still twitching when he slowly slides out of you, careful, like he’s worried he’ll break something.
his hand brushes down your thigh. then your back. then lower, over the dermals that catch the light when you shift.
you’re still trying to catch your breath, thighs trembling, when he flips you again slow and gentle this time, like he’s handling something fragile.
he’s hard again already.
you don’t even have the energy to be surprised. this is connie we’re talking about.
he strokes himself a few times, cock already glistening with your slick and his cum, and grins up at you lazy. smug. completely wrecked.
“c’mere, baby,” he murmurs, patting his chest. “wanna see you.”
you climb onto him slow, hips still twitching from the last orgasm. his hands are on you instantly — squeezing your thighs, guiding you down onto him. the stretch makes you whimper.
“shit— connie—”
“i know, baby,” he breathes, watching your face as you sink down fully. “you still so fuckin’ tight. you feel that?”
you nod, eyes fluttering, hands on his chest for balance.
he grabs the camera again, raising it up from his side and angling it toward you.
“sit up a lil, baby. lemme see you.”
you do, lifting your chest proudly, knowing exactly what he’s looking at.
your tits bounce with every movement, nipples pierced and shining, and his eyes go dark.
he takes a picture. then another.
“so fuckin’ pretty,” he mutters, still snapping. “look at you… on my dick, bouncing all slow… baby, you look like a dream.”
you blush, but it’s pointless. he’s already obsessed. already staring at you like you hung the damn moon.
you start moving faster, riding him with more pressure now, hips circling.
his hands come up to cup your tits, thumbs brushing over the bars of your piercings, rolling them between his fingers like he’s addicted to the feeling.
“fuck— love these,” he groans. “missed all of you.”
he sits up suddenly, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in close. you’re still bouncing on his dick, but now your foreheads are touching, breath mingling.
“missed you so much, baby,” he whispers, voice low and honest. “missed your laugh. your voice. your smart ass mouth. missed this pussy… all of it.”
your throat tightens. you kiss him hard, moaning into his mouth, hips grinding faster.
and then you grab the polaroid.
his eyes widen, surprised and then soft. the grin that spreads across his face is all love.
“you takin’ one of me now?”
“mhm,” you hum, breath shaky. “wanna remember this face.”
you take the photo just as he’s biting his lip, neck all tensed, eyes on you like he’s never wanted anything more.
he grabs your hips and fucks up into you, matching your pace, and your body starts twitching.
“connie— connie, i— i think i’m—”
“yeah, baby? you gonna squirt for me?”
“i— i don’t know, i—”
“yes you do,” he breathes, rubbing your clit with his thumb while thrusting deeper. “you always squirt when i fuck you like this.”
you cry out, body jerking as it hits sharp and overwhelming, liquid gushing between your thighs, soaking both of you and the sheets below.
“fuuuck,” connie groans, looking down at the mess you just made on his stomach. “that’s it, baby. just like that. goddamn…”
you’re still shaking when he thrusts a few more times and cums again, warm and deep, hands gripping your hips so tight you’ll feel it later.
you collapse on his chest, both of you breathless.
he grabs the camera one more time and lifts it weakly, pointing it down.
“baby, smile.”
you barely manage it, dazed and glowing, but you do and the flash goes off one last time.
“baby,” he says softly. “we made a fuckin’ mess.”
you hum, still dazed, cheek pressed to his chest. “worth it.”
he laughs, that deep little chuckle you love. “get up. go pee.”
“don’t wanna.”
“you have to,” he grins, smacking your ass gently. “i’ll clean up, but you gotta go before you get a uti or some shit.”
you whine but sit up anyway, legs wobbling. he helps you stand, both of you groaning like you’re eighty.
you pee like he said grumbling the whole time and when you come back, he’s stripping the sheets off the bed, already balling them up with a look of pure judgment on his face.
“you deadass squirted like it was a water park,” he mutters, still smiling though.
“don’t act like you didn’t love that,” you fire back, arms crossed.
“i did,” he shrugs, dropping the sheets. “i absolutely did.”
you laugh, walking over and wrapping your arms around him. “shower?”
“yeah, go start the water. i’ll be there in a sec.”
he disappears to the laundry while you step into the bathroom, turning on the shower and waiting for the water to warm. when he joins you, his arms wrap around your waist instantly under the spray.
the shower is slow. quiet. he helps you wash your hair, you help him scrub his back. you kiss his neck while he’s rinsing off, and he steals your face wash to do your skincare routine together. you brush your teeth side by side like you always used to.
afterward, he throws on a t-shirt and slides into house shorts, then kisses your forehead before slipping out.
“be right back. didn’t even get my bags out the car.”
you blink. “wait— you didn’t?”
“nah,” he calls over his shoulder. “wasn’t thinking about no luggage, i was thinking about you.”
your face gets hot. you yell back, “simp!”
“damn right!”
when he comes back in, he tosses his bag on the floor and starts unpacking toothbrush in the cup next to yours, chain on the nightstand, hoodie folded in his drawer like this is home.
you’re curled up on the bed in fresh sheets when he joins you, the polaroids scattered across the comforter.
you pick one up the one where your tits are in full view, his tongue out, eyes crossed like he’s about to die and laugh.
“we’re disgusting.”
“filthy,” he agrees, flopping down next to you. “actually need to be locked up.”
you roll over to face him, holding a photo between your fingers. “you’re not keeping these.”
“not all of them,” he smirks. “just like… five.”
“no.”
“three.”
“connie.”
“fine,” he grins, wrapping an arm around you. “but i am taking one of your dermals. and the titty one. and—”
“shut up,” you laugh, hiding your face in his neck.
you lay there like that for a while, tangled up, pictures scattered around, the warmth of the sheets and the sound of him breathing beside you making everything feel perfect again.
then he says it. low. close to your ear.
“i love you.”
you smile. soft and slow. “i love you too.”
“missed you so much, baby,” he whispers, kissing your temple.
you close your eyes, nuzzling in closer. “missed you more.”
and this time, when you fall asleep in his arms, there’s no aching. no distance. no countdown till goodbye.
just you. and him. and the pictures that’ll probably get y’all arrested if anyone ever finds them.
McKenzie🤍 @callmemckenzieee - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook
