Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-Four

Feenix Blaylock

M y entire home smells like a burnt casserole dish. We’d been so consumed with our argument and telling our truths that we didn’t notice the food was burning in the oven. Now, we sit in my living room while sharing a pizza between us.

I can’t remember the last time I had pizza, and I told her as much when it arrived. Since then, we’ve made small talk, diving deeper into each other’s past to better understand the present. She freely gives it to me, and when she asks me questions, my answers are the usual: short and reserved. She’s gotten past the annoyance of that little habit and just asks another question that stirs from the first.

There’s simply not a lot to my past. It was shitty and I moved on. I left it behind.

I study her as she talks about her youth, the friends that she had, the sleepovers and pillow fights. Never at her house though, which I understand because of her situation. She’s animated, waving her one hand around while the other holds the crust of her slice of pizza.

She doesn’t know…. She has no idea that I’m watching her mouth move, watching it smile, all the while fantasizing. I remember what it felt like wrapped around my cock. How hot her mouth was. The way her tongue slid along my length.

My cock grows hard just thinking about it, and when she takes another bite, the urge to lean forward and lick the sauce off her cheek is strong. So strong that I’m leaning before I realize it.

She stops talking when I’m inches from her face, and I pause for a second, letting the moment build before I lick it slowly off her skin. Even past the pizza sauce, she tastes delicious. The conversation immediately ends when she shivers, and I smirk when I glance down and see her nipples pebbling through her thin shirt. As if she knew what I had wanted, she isn’t wearing a bra.

Her throat bobs in thick swallows, and I lean a little more and nibble the crook of her neck. A slight whimper escapes her throat, and I grin against her skin as my cock strains in my sweatpants, begging to be touched.

While I nibble my way down to her collarbone, she sets down her pizza crust on the coffee table. I grab that hand and guide it to my cock, demanding without words that she touch me. My groan is subtle as she squeezes it through the fabric, and I rumble in approval when she slides her hand down the waistband, skates across my pubic bone, and skims my cock. Her fingertips tickle the skin, and it jumps and then throbs when she firmly grasps it, giving it a stroke. Then another. Then another.

I tip her head to the side for a better angle and dip my hand under the hem of her shirt. She whimpers again as I rub the pad of my thumb over her tight nipple and then groans when I gently roll it between my fingers.

God, she tastes good. I’ll never get enough of her, and before I know it, I’m breaking away from her neck and lifting her shirt off her body. I lean her back so she rests on her back against the cushions and slide her shorts down once she’s comfortable. She doesn’t let go of my length the entire time, focused on pleasuring me as I’m about to do to her.

Naked before me, I rub my nose against her nipple before I latch onto it. As I stroke the tight bud with the tip of my tongue, she arches below me. Her body begs for more, lighting up with goosebumps.

Her other hand goes to my hair, tangles in the short, curled strands, and tugs the roots gently. But she keeps my head exactly where it’s at, forcing me to lavish one of the most sensitive parts of her body.

She whimpers, and her hips start rocking, searching for friction where there is none, so I scoot my knee forward and place it firmly between her thighs. Her sighs at the pressure are fucking beautiful, and then she slides her pussy up and down my sweatpants, gasping as the fabric rubs her clit.

I move to the other nipple while pushing my pants all the way down to my knees and settle between her thighs. She continues to rock but this time against my cock. The feeling of her wet pussy sliding along my length is hot and slick, waiting and ready for me to push inside and find relief for both of us.

I nibble my way up her neck and groan, “Mama,” as she squeezes me again. “If you don’t stop –”

She lifts her hips up in answer and guides me to her entrance. With her knees wrapped around my waist, she pulls me inside her in one smooth motion. We both moan together while her tight pussy grips me, ripples around me, and pulls me in deeper. My lips find hers, and I kiss her like I have to. Like I need to or I won’t be able to breathe.

Unable to sit still any longer, I start moving my hips, and she sighs into my mouth. My length slicks with each stroke, and every time I leisurely pull out, the cooler air of the living room wraps around it, and the only relief is to bury myself back inside her.

“Fuck,” I hiss against her lips when her pussy tightens again. I skate a hand down her thigh, grasp her knee, and lift it higher. My angle is deeper this way, and her whimper slides down my tongue. It only serves to urge me on, forcing me to go faster because I know she’s close and I want to feel her cum drip down to my balls.

I hook her thigh against my arm and start plowing into her. I know I’m rubbing the right spot because her eyelids flutter as deep moans rattle up her throat. She breathes out a few curses between the moans, and just watching her expression nearly has me coming undone. Beneath me, a mess and completely lost in what I’m doing to her, she is hot as hell.

It doesn’t take long until the moan transitions into gasps, and then she’s grabbing the cushions and cumming beneath me. Her gasp becomes a low-pitched scream, and her body arches off the couch, but I don’t stop. I force her to take all of me while her orgasm continues for several seconds. Her pussy yanks so hard on my cock that I almost see stars.

Pressure builds at the base of my spine, and I’m moaning out, “Mama,” a few times before I pull out and groan my release. Streams of my cum hit her pubic bone, and she watches with interest as it leaves my body and finds a final resting place on hers.

I tip my head back and sigh to the ceiling as the last of it shoots from my tip, and when I feel her moving below me, I look back down and watch as she gathers some of my cum on her fingertip, brings it to her lips, and sucks it dry.

That kind of turn-on? That’s something you can’t teach, and it’s exactly what makes her sexy.

I’m about to tell her as much when my cell phone dings on the arm of the couch. A grumpy look pinches her features, and I smirk as I lift my shirt over my head and gently clean her up. She watches my abs ripple as I do, and the grumpy expression slowly turns into lust, but this time, I don’t give in to those fuck-me eyes.

I lean in, kiss her twice, and pull my sweatpants up as I grab my phone.

She looks for her shirt while I open my phone and read the text. I stare at it, and stare some more, until finally, she asks, “What is it?”

My heart is hammering in my chest as my mind reels. Brows pinched together, I glance over at her. She’s fully dressed and expressing interest in what holds mine.

I scrub the back of my neck and answer, “There’s a party.”

“Okay,” she huffs out. She scoots back farther on the couch so that her back rests against the other armrest. “Like what kind? A kegger? A cocktail? When is it?”

I drop the phone to the couch cushion and try like hell to think about how we can get out of this because the invitation wasn’t just for me.

“We’re invited to . . .” I circle to face her. “It’s a masked cocktail party. They throw these every now and then after an auction. ”

“Okay,” she says again, placing her hands on her hips as she tries to piece together what I’m saying without getting angry at the word auction. “When?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“And we have to go?”

“It came straight from him. My boss. We can’t ignore it.” And if the invitation for both of us came to me, he knows she’s here, but by the look in her eyes, she’s put that together already.

She nods as she searches the floor for an answer to a question she hasn’t voiced. “Will he be there?”

“I wouldn’t know it if he was.” Truth be told, he could have been to many auction parties. I don’t know what he looks like, and only Andre knows his voice. Hell, I could have talked to him before at one of them and never known it.

She looks back at me again. “Okay, so we go. This could be a good thing. We could find out a whole lot of information if we play our cards right.”

I flex my jaw. “I don’t like this.”

“Why?” she grumbles.

“Because every outing we’ve had hasn’t gone well. You don’t behave. You push the boundaries, and one of these times, it’ll be the last boundary you push.”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s a masked party. I’ll be fine.”

I give my head a little shake. “Mama –”

Crossing her arms over her chest and cocking a hip, she firmly says, “I’m going. We’re going. And we are going to find out as much as we can. Besides, now that he knows I’m with you, and frankly, he seems a bit obsessed with me, it might just draw him out.”

“Charlie –” I try again, but she narrows her eyes at me.

“You can’t protect me from everything. I have a job to do, Nix. You have to let me do it. ”

And with that final word that leaves no room for argument, she turns from me, picks up the pizza box from the coffee table, and heads toward the kitchen, leaving me reeling in my spot.

“I’ll call Miles,” she shouts from the kitchen, and I growl out in frustration.