Page 43

Then he threw me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing and carried me out the pool.

“Cardez!” I yelped as he brought me through the sliding doors. The second he put me down, I shoved him onto the couch. He stumbled back, looking up at me surprised.

I pulled at the strings on my bathing suit and let the top drop.

“Shit,” he muttered as I tugged the rest down and stood there dripping in front of him.

I dropped to my knees between his legs and tugged his trunks down. He was thick and

heavy, precum already leaking at the tip.

I glanced up at him as my tongue flicked over the head. His mouth fell open as I relaxed my jaw and swallowed him until my nose touched his pelvis.

“G’damn,” he groaned, his hand going to the back of my head. I worked him slow.

His hand tightened in my hair and he pulled me off.

“I wasn’t finished,” I whined as he tugged me to my feet. He spun me around so my back was against his chest, his dick pressed against my ass as his hand trailed up to my breast.

“When you gonna stop tryna run shit, Belle?”

My head fell back against his shoulder when he pinched my nipple as his other hand moved between my thighs and found my still sensitive clit again.

“Cardez—” My knees buckled.

“Shh.” His lips were on my neck as he bent me over the arm of the couch. He ran his dick through my slick folds before lining himself up.

“Fuckkk,” we moaned in unison as he pushed inside me. Every coherent thought evaporated as he bottomed out, letting me adjust to his size.

Nobody—and I mean nobody—had ever fucked me like this. This nigga had me face down in the couch cushion while he gave me long, deep strokes. I was begging, whimpering, calling on God, the Father, and the Holy Spirit.

“All that smart-ass mouth,” he growled, smacking my ass. The sting bloomed across my skin, mixing with the pleasure until it was almost too much.

“Hm?” He smacked the other cheek, never breaking his rhythm. “Ain’t got shit to say now, huh?”

“Dez,” I mewled, throwing my ass back at him. That was all I could manage.

He grabbed my hair and bent over, mouth at my ear. “I’ma make you mine, Belle. You know that right?” His free hand snaked around to my clit and I nearly blacked out. “This smart-ass mouth. This body. This pussy. All mine.”

A moan ripped out of me at the idea of him claiming me. This wasn’t the performance I gave other men to make them feel good about themselves. This was real.

He pulled out and flipped me over, pushing me down onto the couch. He hooked my legs over his shoulders, folding me damn near in half, and pushed back in.

“This pussy swallowing my shit up, Belle,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I can’t—I can’t come again,” I whined. It was too much. I was too sensitive, every nerve on my body was lit up.

“You can.” He kissed me. “And you will. I believe in you.”

“Baby—” Something flickered in his eyes when the word slipped out. His next stroke went so deep my hands flew to his chest.

“Be a good girl for Papa and give me that nut,” he coaxed. “I got you.”

“Cardez!” Stars exploded behind my eyes as my orgasm tore through me. He followed right after, burying himself deep as he spilled inside me.

I prayed my birth control wouldn’t fail me.

He collapsed onto me, both of us done. His face was in my neck, and my arms were still wrapped around him as his heart slammed against my chest.