Mine

by Kenya Wright

  “Yeah. It’s been a rough couple of months.” He finished his champagne.

  “And I thought I was having a bad year.” I squeezed his hand. “I’m so sorry, Hunter.”

  Our waiter brought over a second bottle of champagne along with a platter of lobster floating on top of a thick white cream. My mouth salivated. The second waiter carried over a bottle of red wine and more caviar heaped on top of toast.

  My liver and stomach are going to kill me tomorrow…but I’m going in.

  “Let’s dig in,” Hunter said, after all of our food was served.

  “I’m ready to do some serious damage to this table.” I stuffed myself with pâté.

  He piled lobster into his mouth. We looked like some orgy-induced Romans from ancient times, just back from a battle and ravished with hunger.

  The band trio shifted into a soft jazz song. And we feasted. Two new lovers excited for the food, excited for the company. Feeding each other and licking our lips and fingers. Tasting our high-end gourmet dishes and sipping expensive wine. Consuming each other in the middle of it all.

  Once the plates were empty, we shifted to enjoying our wine. My stomach was full. My body relaxed.

  I sipped and relished in the smooth liquid slipping down my throat. A soft moan escaped.

  Hunter watched me with a seductive smile. That gaze caressed me. My body warmed under it as sexual awareness set in. He leaned back in his chair . Under the table, our feet touched, and it didn’t ease the sexual energy rising in my body.

  “How are you?” Hunter asked.

  “I feel better.”

  “I’m going to kill him now. Do you know that?” His words sounded calm. His face screamed death and destruction.

  I rubbed my hand against his. “I made peace with that as soon as you showed up. What are we going to do in these next days?”

  “Not tonight, Zola. Tonight, we’re just a regular man and woman exploring the possibility of love. Let’s deal with this threat tomorrow. I have Stark and my other men on it.”

  “Okay.”

  “Tonight, we relax. Tomorrow, I get close to finishing this forever.” He rose from the table and gestured for me to come to him.

  Unable to resist, I stood, walked over to him, and let him grab my hand. He took me out onto a small space right in front of the band.

  I quirked my eyebrows. “What are we doing?”

  “I never danced with you like I wanted to.” He pulled me into his arms. “I’m hoping we can make it up.”

  “I love that idea.”

  And so, we danced. All night long. Our bodies were the song. The band played the melody, but we performed the notes. Slowly, we grooved, gliding and slipping against each other. I swore I heard him groan as he turned me around and drew me back to him.

  Hunter owned the dance floor. How had he learned to dance so well? In high school, he never tried much. Even at his prom, he’d just stood by the wall, watching the others. York had said Hunter danced. But now, Hunter had the passion to move. To twirl me around.

  When the band picked up, performing songs with faster rhythms and beats, we really had fun. Instead of keeping us in the space in front of the musicians, he twirled me all over that restaurant, twisting me around tables, guiding me past servers and staff, lifting me up in the air until I shrieked and laughed at his craziness.

  “I love you, Hunter.”

  And after those words, the dancing ended. He had me up against the wall, and the band slowed up their song a little, skipping notes and probably wondering if Hunter was going to take me right in front of them.

  He devoured my mouth with no restraint. “Let’s go.”

  We were out of there in no time. Apparently, Hunter had paid for everything earlier.

  We rode in the limo, making out like teen lovers. I leaned my body against him the whole time. Our faces remained connected to the other. We didn’t come up for air until the limo stopped.

  Breathless, I glanced out the window and stared in shock. “We’re staying here?”

  “Yes.” A stern expression pushed through the lust on his face. “Every moment from now on will be odd. Are you ready for that?”

  “What do you mean?” I moved away from him and adjusted my dress.

  “We need to do the unexpected.” Hunter smoothed his jacket, opened the door, and climbed out.

  “Unexpected?”

  He held the door open for me. “The stalker knows too much about where you are these days.”

  I left the car. “Okay. So, we’re going to stay at a different hotel.”

  Hunter shut the door. “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I will find this guy.” The promise of death lingered in his eyes.

  “I know you will.”

  “Either way, we can discuss all that later.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against mine, consuming my mouth and spinning my head around and around with him. “I need you.”

  Without asking, he lifted me up.

  “I need you too.” A nervous giggle left my lips. He swallowed the noise and headed into the hotel. I had no idea when he’d gotten the key and everything else, but we didn’t even stop at the front desk.

  Still carrying me, Hunter took us over to the elevators.

  “Okay,” I whispered. “You can put me down.”

  He did and smacked my ass.

  I shrieked and then doubled over with laughter. “You’ve lost it.”

  “I have. You’ve been teasing me for years. Tonight’s the night.”

  “I’ve been teasing you? Really, Hunter?”

  “Yes, really.”

  I pointed at him. “You’re the one running and I’m the one chasing.”

  “Is that right?”

  The elevator doors opened.

  “Yes, that’s right.” I walked in.

  He followed.

  As soon as the doors closed, Hunter pushed me up against the wall and slipped his hands all over me. “What should I call you when my cock is deep inside of you?”

  I couldn’t even speak as he sucked on my bottom lip. My body set on fire.

  “Zuzu or Zola?” He took my breath away.

  I moaned as he rubbed his hard cock against me.

  “Tell me,” he whispered. “When I’m coming and filling you up. What name do you want me to groan?”

  “It doesn’t matter. My panties get wet, when you speak. Just be inside of me.”

  “Hmmm.” He devoured me. Had the double doors not been so nosy, when they opened, we might’ve fucked right there. In no time, we hit the suite. I barely had time to drink it all in.

  “Take off that dress.” His hands roamed my body as desire blazed all over his face. “I don’t want to rip this one tonight.”

  I didn’t even question him as I unzipped the side of my dress, pushed it over my shoulders, and let it fall to the ground. Black lace cupped my breasts. I’d decided not to wear any panties, too greedy for another session of Hunter’s lips on my pussy.

  Groaning, he stepped back and watched me through lust-heavy eyelids. “Take off the bra.”

  I unclipped it and let it fall to the floor.

  He closed the distance between us. I trembled at his speed. His hands slipped all over my body. I couldn’t catch my breath. He left sweet kisses on the curve of my neck. I moaned, needing him even more. My hands went crazy exploring him—the layers of muscle, the tight satin skin stretched over them.

  “Goddamn you. I’ve loved you forever.” He licked and sucked at the pulse point on my throat. “Forever.”

  I pushed my body against him, rubbing my hands down the outline of his cock.

  “I’m going to taste every part of you.” Hunter nipped at my collarbone and then licked the same spot.

  I shivered in desire.

  He pulled me over to the back of a couch, slow and smooth, almost like a dance. Hunter turned me around and bent me over the couch. I shrieked. Tenderly, he smacked my ass.

  “I wanted t
o be gentle. You deserve gentle tonight.” He slipped his hands down my ass, separated my thighs, and cupped my pussy. Shamelessly, I ground my center against his hand. An exasperated breath left me. “I can’t make any promises, Zola. I’ve wanted you for too long.”

  “I don’t want you to be gentle.”

  He groaned. His zipper sounded next. Licking my lips, I glanced over my shoulder. He pulled his fat cock out and shuffled his pants down.

  “Now,” I whispered.

  Stroking his cock, he leaned down and crashed his mouth against mine.

  “Now?” His voice went hoarse. “I couldn’t wait, if I wanted to. That’s how bad I need to be deep inside of you.”

  “Please.”

  “Your bare ass should be a fucking portrait over my bed.” He rubbed that hard, thick cock against my cheeks, and then smeared liquid along my opening. It had to be pre-cum. I’d seen a little bead at the mushroomed tip.

  Leaning more over the couch, I groaned in anticipation.

  “Look how tight you are.” He slipped his fingers inside of me.

  “Hunter.”

  “This pussy is going to squeeze me dry.” He slid his finger in and out of me so deliciously slow.

  Whining, I shivered in desire. “I don’t want your finger. I want your cock.”

  “Spread your legs.” He gave a light smack of his palm over my ass.

  Bent over, I opened my legs more to him. My pussy was so wet. My arousal dripped down my thighs.

  “Oh, Zola,” he groaned. “I love what I see.”

  He entered me, fitting that cock between my thighs and grabbing my hips with both hands. I relished in the plunge of his hard body into mine. He started at a slow, torturous pace. Like on the dance floor, he controlled the rhythm and speed.

  And it drove me wild.

  Pumping slowly, in and out, he moved one hand up to my breasts and toyed with my nipples.

  “Hunter.”

  “I should’ve fucked you long ago.” He groaned and sped up the pace, moving hard and fast, rocking the couch and me. “I should’ve taken this pussy long ago.”

  “Oh.”

  “Do you want it harder, baby?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, fuck.” He slammed into me, going deeper than anyone had ever gone before. I was under his towering muscular weight, pinned down by my ass, with no desire to leave. His thrusts came harder and my body shuddered, unable to stop the ribbons of pleasure unfolding throughout me.

  “You’re going to come all over this cock.”

  “Oh.”

  “And when that pussy explodes, I’m going to come all over those beautiful breasts.” One brutal delicious thrust came and then another and another, until I drowned in him.

  Our bodies merged.

  We were rhythm.

  We were pleasure.

  We were one and nothing at all.

  He filled me in the most perfect way. He was slow, rhythmic, gentle, gliding in and out. I was nothing but my body. There was no thought in my head, no beat to my heart, no breath in my lungs. I was simply flesh drowning in lust.

  “Oh, baby, I love you.” He jerked his hips and that big cock hit my inner walls in just the right spot. I shrieked broken moans, unable to stop myself.

  “And this pussy is mine,” he whispered as if we’d been having a conversation on the matter.

  “Mine.” He pulled that heavy cock out fast and then dove it right back in me. Sweat slicked down my skin.

  He moved his hand from my breasts and slipped it down to my pussy, stroking my clit as he pumped.

  That was the moment that pushed me over the edge. That was the moment when the whole room rocked. And I couldn’t get enough. Of him. Of his cock. Of this moment. I needed him inside me all the time.

  Moaning, I glanced over my shoulder, needing to see his face when he came, and wanting him to see mine. He had to know what he did to me. And I needed to know what I did to him.

  Our eyes met.

  His stroke went deeper as he grunted, “Oh.”

  My orgasm crashed hard into me without any warning. Unadulterated, erotic passion detonated violently in every part of me.

  And I came again, this time harder and more intensely. And he followed, moaning with his mouth against my throat. Those dark, hot words whispered along my skin. “Oh, baby.”

  25

  The Nameless Fuck in the Alley

  BROKENHEARTED

  Where are they? This isn’t going according to plan.

  It had just stopped raining, and she wanted me to fuck her in the alley.

  Although she was a nameless girl that sat in a bar next to me on a lonely night, her hair was black, and she was so pale white that I had to try, just for a few seconds.

  It will never be enough.

  I guided her into the back entrance of the bar and led her outside. She stumbled in a puddle. I grabbed her hand and helped her to the other side of a dumpster, so it could shield us from people walking by on the sidewalk.

  She slurred the words, “I’ve never had a black guy before.”

  “I’m sorry.” I turned her around, so she faced the wall. “Now you’ll get that chance.”

  “I’m so ready.” She placed her hands on the wet brick.

  I yanked her dress up. The moonlight hit her pale ass. She hadn’t worn any panties under that black leather skirt.

  I gripped the back of her head hard, fisting her hair in my fingers. “You wanted to get fucked tonight, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” she moaned.

  I unzipped my fly and used my free hand to probe her ass, sticking my index and middle finger inside, massaging the cherry bud opening.

  She moaned.

  “You want it deep in your ass?”

  “Yes.”

  I inhaled her and didn’t enjoy the scent.

  It wasn’t love.

  No. This doesn’t help. Nothing will help.

  Frowning, I put my dick away, zipped my pants, and left the nameless girl in the alley, slurring at me to come back.

  This must come to an end. I can’t walk this earth anymore.

  26

  The Bacon Dance

  Zola

  Later that night, I opened my eyes.

  The bedroom’s suite was dark. Earlier, Hunter had fucked me on the couch. I passed out in his arms later, wondering if this would all be my new reality.

  Now, Hunter lay next to me naked. It was the first time in a long time we’d been in bed together. Lounging in his arms brought back those cozy memories. I grinned. Long ago, I would’ve had to sneak into his room to cuddle.

  Last night was perfect.

  For several silent seconds, I thought about what he’d done to my body tonight and even earlier in the dressing room. I’d almost lost my balance with one arm hooked on him and my whole focus on his tongue. I was shocked I didn’t scream up the whole building. There was crazy talent in his tongue. I’d come harder with his mouth than any other’s man’s cock. And his mouth had been damn good to experience. It drove me wild. Now that I’d had his cock and that mouth, I could never even think about sleeping with anyone else.

  My vision adjusted to the dimly lit room. Blinking, I rolled to my side and was about to leave his arms. Hunter gently grabbed my waist. I jumped a little.

  “Sorry.” He slowly sat up. “Did you get some rest?”

  “Yes. I didn’t realize you were up.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “When did you wake up?” I asked.

  “When you moved.” Hunter’s deep voice slipped along my skin. “Did you dream about me?”

  I smiled. “Not this time.”

  “Then, I’ll have to fuck you harder before you go to sleep tonight.” Hunter rose from the bed, pulled on some jeans, and stepped into the moonlight seeping in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. The lights of the city glittered in a sea of black around him.

  Damn, he’s so fucking gorgeous.

  I loved a man that could really wear a
pair of jeans. Hunter met the challenge. The waist hung under that abdominal curve muscle, and I yearned to yank them down. The bottom of his jeans broke over the arch of his bare feet. The scent of sex drifted from his skin.

  Jesus. Is he really mine now?

  He looked more like a warrior than a guard. His shoulders were broad. His ribs were lean. His waist narrowed perfectly beneath the low-slung and well-worn jeans. Even his incredible backside was etched out in hard muscle. In fact, everywhere I looked said power and strength.

  His usually styled hair was ruffled and sensually messy. I held a silly grin on my face, unable to deal with his gorgeousness.

  Interrupting my drooling, he asked. “Would you like some tea?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “I’ll be right back.” He headed to the door, opened it, and left.

  When the door closed behind him, I shivered. I should’ve felt safe being alone. Hunter was just right in the next room. But after everything that had happened, I jumped more and dreaded any possibility of isolation.

  I’ll be fine. Everything will be fine.

  I leaned over to the nightstand and turned on the light.

  Hunter will find him.

  Illuminated, the room appeared less scary. I let out along breath. This sicko was closing in. The more I let myself think about it, the more rage roared inside me.

  Why can’t this asshole just leave me alone? Why does the world have so many sickos?

  It all caught up with me then. The fear, the humiliation, the defeat. I’d been doing my best to hold it together, but in the quiet of the suite, I let go. With Hunter gone and my having time to think in moonlit darkness, I couldn’t shake the memory of the stalker’s latest attack out of my mind.

  What will he do next?

  My eyes watered. Fear poured through my body. It snaked into muscle and bone, wounding me up into a tight ball.

  I’m not dead. I’m alive. He didn’t kill me.

  Still, I couldn’t get the image of some masked person shooting at me out of my head. I started shaking. Uncontrollably. I touched my hand to my chest. My heart beat fast. My brain on anxiety was a motherfucker. I spent the next silent seconds battling and pushing away visions of some sicko hiding in my closet or lurking under my bed waiting to jump out and rip my throat open with a knife.