by Nya Rayne
Phia giggled at his reversal of a game she’d started and whispered his name. She brought her hand up to stop him and died a little when lust-filled eyes turned to her. Her hand moved from his, slid across his chest, and came to rest on the area over his heart. She closed her eyes and listened with her hand as she tried to count every rapid beat, every erratic thump. He’s real! My God, he’s real, she told herself, as if she needed this final piece of proof. She opened her eyes and covered his inviting mouth with hunger and a passion which she’d never known.
It started as an all-out brawl to get him out of his clothing and her out of her dress, but as the offending items were thrown to the side, the magnificence of his body, the gentle, tempered manner in which he handled her, was enough to make her weep, and at some point, she was quite sure she did.
As he suckled at her breasts with wanton need. His fingers trailed the length of her body and then slipped inside of her. She thought she was going to shrivel away into sheer nothingness. Then he kissed his way down her stomach to her dripping canal and began lapping at her, drinking her in as if he were a man with an unquenchable thirst. She saw glimpses of a world she’d only seen in dreams.
As she dug her nails into the roots of his hair and rode against his mouth, she silently begged him not to stop, but to stop, to suck harder, but not to. As she cried out in a fevered pitch of babel, she knew at any moment she would succumb to heart failure.
When he slid up her body, ran his hands through the sweat pooling between her breasts, and lowered himself onto her, she wanted to lose herself in him…to become one with him, in this world and the next. From the very second he pushed her legs apart and entered her, breaking what little barrier remained after her many years of reluctant virginity, she knew this was her man and she would keep him and protect him even if it cost her her very life. He was hers, and he would forever be hers.
Her back rose up off the mattress, arching toward him as he continued his relentless, heavenly, and painful descent into her body. She rocked her hips against his, pleading with him to make the sweet ache growing in her abdomen go away. He moved back, pulling out of her, and she wanted to cry and scream. He flipped her so she was face down and reentered her, his sweat-drenched body gliding over hers. She rose up to meet him as his powerful hands lifted her hips and exquisite pleasure wormed its way through her body, causing her to cry out again and again as she reached out for something, anything, to tether her to this realm.
His hands found hers, and she held onto him for dear life as he moved deeper and deeper into her, rode the walls of her sex, and sent her spiraling into oblivion only to drag her back and plunge her into the abyss again. Through the fog of her mind, she heard him whisper as his hips continued to undulate into her, “What am I to you?”
She didn’t understand the question, and didn’t want to. This pain…this pleasure, it wouldn’t allow her to focus on anything else. The nerves of her body were alive with ecstatic fervor. She could feel everything and nothing. She could hear and see for miles.
“What am I to you?” he ground out again, his voice pained and demanding.
Phia rocked back as he pulled her down to him one last time, and she understood. She clutched at the mattress and tried to survive the last of his rapture as she said, “My lover. You’re my lover.”
Moments later, as she lay curled in his arms; Phia understood everything the good doctor had been trying to explain to her. Donté was more than special. He was truly one of a kind. He was passionate, voracious, desirable, and everything everyone said she would never have. She knew and understood now, if she didn’t protect him and keep him safe, another woman, her mother, perhaps, if she knew the truth, might try to take him from her.
The thought petrified Phia. She pressed back against him and reveled in the feel of his strong arms holding her close. She would never let such a thing happen. He was hers, not as an object or a possession, but he was her life companion. He was the one she’d been waiting for and praying for, and if he didn’t know it yet, he would soon.
His fingers slid down the side of her face, between her breasts, over her stomach, and slipped between her legs. She smiled as she opened them and allowed him to palm her swollen lips.
“Am I all human?” He kissed the back of her head, and Phia thought she heard him chuckle.
Chapter Eight
“Omigod, have you heard?” Ice shrieked.
Phia leaned away from her best friend and frowned as she reached down and readjusted her injured ankle. The ottoman in front of her sofa obligingly reshaped itself to fit. “No, I can’t say I have.” Only the closest of friends would dare barge into someone’s home this early in the morning and without calling.
She and Ice had met during freshman orientation at college, and they’d been friends ever since. In addition to about a hundred other things they had in common, they both loved all kinds of music, ranging from long-dead pianists such as Sergei Rachmaninoff and Lisa Emenheiser, to newer artists like singers Viola Woods and Chantelle Bone.
To look at Ice, one wouldn’t have believed she knew what a piano was, but she was a musical savant. She could play every instrument known to womankind. She could hear a song once, remember every musical note, and reproduce it without breaking a sweat. Phia, however, had been forced to learn to play the piano by her mother. At first, it was simply another way for Varonda to show her off to her politician friends, but Phia quickly found that the time she spent with her fingers gliding across the smooth celluloid keys was the only time she was impervious to her mother’s blatant neglect and the desolation that normally numbed her.
She glanced at the hall which led to the music room, where her antique baby grand Steinway stood. Her fingers twitched, itching to dance across the keys. Today, finally, her desire to play was not because she was depressed and in desperate need of an escape. She wanted to play because her soul was filled with such elation, she felt to keep such a feeling to herself would be nothing less than a sin.
“Are you serious? It’s all over the social casts! I can’t believe you don’t know,” Ice said, interrupting her thoughts.
“I haven’t been tuned in lately, sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just get with the program, literally. I swear, Phia, if you didn’t have me, you’d be a lost cause.”
“Yeah, yeah, so you tell me,” Phia said in a placating tone. “Or are you going to keep me guessing?”
Ice grinned from her perch on the arm of the sofa. “I’ll give you one guess. My dream lover?”
Phia peered up at her friend. Ice was a petite, dark-skinned woman who might have weighed ninety-five pounds soaking wet. She wore her reddish hair in a bob above the nape of her neck, and had altered the color of her eyes so they appeared to be shimmering silver when hit by direct sunlight. Today her eyelashes were gold-flecked to match the obscenely short and sheer blue and gold dress she wore. It hugged her curves like a glove, showing off her pert, jewel-encrusted nipples and her perfect rump. It made Ice appear even more sensuous and fairy-like than she already did. Unlike most women who chose lesbianism, Ice was steadfast in her belief that even if men were abundant, she would still be attracted to women. With that in mind, Phia knew of only one woman whose bath-water Ice wanted to sip. “The Higher Highness of Serenity?”
Ice squealed in delight, her entire body vibrating. “She’s going to be here tomorrow for a benefit banquet! They said if her schedule permits, she’ll be giving a short speech downtown and there might be a picture session afterward.”
“And let me guess: You’re going?” Phia didn’t dislike the Higher Highness of Serenity; she just could never figure out what it was about the woman that caused her friend to act like such a groupie.
Ice rolled her eyes as she pushed off the arm of the couch, and danced over to Phia. Throwing her arms around her neck, she sang, “You have to come with me.”
“Ice, you know I—”
“Please!”
“You know I don’t lik
e—”
“Pretty please with tits and clits?”
“Ice.”
“I don’t want to go by myself. Besides, if you’re not there, her security might have to throttle me, and then you’d feel bad.”
Before Phia could respond, Donté stepped into the viewing room, his wide-legged recreation trousers hanging low around his chiseled hips, his chest bare. She smiled at him as she tried to force away the images of the night before, which had been dancing through her head since she’d opened her eyes earlier that morning. When she’d roused and rolled to him, her hands reaching out for the warmth he offered, she’d had one thing, and one thing only, on her mind. But the moment she shifted and tried to scoot closer to him, using her injured foot to propel her, all thoughts of a repeat of the night before had vanished. Pain raced up her leg, forcing her to block out all other sensations. Instead of screaming Donté’s name out of pleasure, she bellowed it out of sheer agony.
She shook off her thoughts as Ice released her and started around the couch in Donté’s direction. The two of them had met earlier, so she didn’t see any need to reintroduce them, but she had to admit she was a little uncomfortable with his standing there showing off his goods.
Ice leapt forward, her arms wrapping around Donté’s neck. Phia sat up, and forced herself to ignore the pain in her ankle. “Ice, what you are doing?” she asked. “Ice!”
It was obvious Donté hadn’t expected it. He staggered back and had to grab onto the wall to keep the two of them from crashing to the floor.
Ice leaned away from him, spun around him, and looped her right arm into his left one. “Tell her to go with me, D.” She ran her free hand up and down his bare chest in an agonizingly slow and seductive manner.
Phia narrowed her eyes at the woman, her jealousy spiking. Ice supposedly didn’t like men, but until now, Ice hadn’t ever been around a real man.
“Oh, I’m just twisting your tits,” Ice began. “He may be bricked and a little too easy on the eyes, but I will not have him sticking his little snake in my tight donut hole.” She said it with such sensuality that Donté stared down at the woman with something akin to wonderment. He then glanced from her to Phia, stupefaction on his handsome face, but he didn’t say a word.
Ice’s eyes, a look of mischief glinting in them, wavered from Phia to Donté before she spun to face him, pulled his head down to her face, and spared one last glance in Phia’s direction before planting her lips on his.
“Ice!” Phia flared, pushing unsteadily to her feet. She stumbled and caught herself. “I swear on all that’s holy, I’ll…”
“Go with me or I’ll do it again.”
“You’re crossing the line,” Phia warned.
Ice rolled her eyes as she released Donté. “Go with me, please,” she begged. “I don’t ever ask you for anything. Just do me this one favor.”
Donté slipped his arms around Phia’s waist and steered her back to the couch. “You have to stay off your foot or your ankle is never going to heal.”
“I know, but was I supposed to sit here and watch another woman kiss you?”
He ran his hands across his lips and shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t even notice she had until you mentioned it.” He grinned at her. “I guess her lips don’t speak to me like yours do.”
Phia could feel her entire body blush at his admission. “They speak to you?” Her blush deepened. “What do they say?”
Leaning forward, Donté kissed the corner of her mouth. “Right this minute?”
Phia gripped the cushion she was sitting on and nodded her head as his tongue ran the length of her lower lip, sending tendrils of pleasurable charges through her body.
“They’re whispering—” He nibbled at her lower lip, traced his fingers up the outside of her thigh, and finished, “No, they’re pleading…begging me to—”
“Okay, please stop the love-fest! It’s just nasty!” Ice slipped onto the end of the couch, her arms folded beneath her firm, full breasts. “If you go with me, I’ll leave the two of you to your very nasty and ungodly endeavors. Otherwise, I might spend the night, and we’ll see how far you two get with me here.”
Phia groaned. “Fine, I’ll go, but if you ever pull a stunt like that again, we’re going to have a serious problem.”
Ice laughed as she stood to her feet. “What are you going to do, spank me?” For emphasis she turned, hiked up the hem of her dress, and slapped her open palm against her brown and round bare ass once, and a second time to make sure she got her point across.
Donté snorted out a sound that was caught between a laugh and cough.
“Nope, I don’t think I will. What I’ll do to you will involve spikes and a couple of dull knives,” Phia advised.
“Oh promises, promises,” Ice teased, with a flutter of her eyelashes. She skipped back over to Phia, leaned down, and kissed the crown of her head. “Stay frosty, babe! Later, D,” she continued in a sing-song tone before turning and heading to the door.
“Ice,” Phia called just as her friend reached the door.
“What’s up?”
Phia rolled her eyes at Donté and flicked out her tongue as if she was about to show him up. “Do I snore?”
Ice laughed, threw the peace sign up over her shoulder, and said as she sashayed out the condo, “Like a wounded goat.”
“I like her,” Donté admitted while trying to hide his smile.
“Whatever. You’re only saying that because she agreed with you.” She tried to hold onto her animosity toward him and Ice. It was a losing battle. “I don’t care what she says, I don’t snore.”
Donté chuckled as he settled down before her. “Yes, you do snore, but you don’t sound like a wounded goat. I would’ve said you sound like a soothing bubbling brook.” He shrugged his thick shoulders. “She exaggerates, but I do like her.”
“You like her more than me?” Phia caught a fist full of his hair and pulled him a little closer.
He leaned into her, sniffed down the side of her face to her neck, and then kissed it indulgently, causing her to shiver and pull him closer. “I don’t think I like anyone as much as I like you,” he whispered while kissing the underside of her chin, his hand sliding up the inside of her thigh. “Enough about Ice, let’s get back to those lips.”
Phia was stretched out on the couch, her head lying in Donté’s lap as he sporadically picked at locks of her hair and twirled them around his finger, his eyes focused intently on the teletron playing before them.
They had visited the healer, where Phia received a shot of some sort of silicon-based substance in the area around her ankle. Afterward, she was nearly fine, so they’d spent most of the afternoon walking around uptown Charlotte. Her intent was to show him the intricacies of the area he now lived in, so if there were ever a time when he needed to go out by himself, he could. Unfortunately, there were so many people bustling here and there trying to prepare for the Higher Highness’ arrival, that every street she tried to take him down was cordoned off. So, they had to turn around and go back the way they had come.
Before long, they found themselves sitting on a park bench, watching as life passed before them. At first, this annoyed her to no end. It was ruining the plans she had for an impromptu outing with him. However, one look at Donté’s face told her there was nowhere else he wanted to be.
He sat there, as quiet as a beautiful marble statue, his arm draped around her shoulders and a look of awe on his face as he stared at the people coming and going. He watched with unwavering focus and a child’s delight as ruby-throated hummingbirds, yellow-bellied sapsuckers, and humble pigeons flew through the skies above them, sang from the trees around them, and pooped on the sidewalks near them. Under normal circumstances, she would have found this mundane, but watching him watch these monotonous activities was a reward all its own.
As their afternoon progressed, she came to understand him much better. When it came to her, Donté knew exactly what to do, how to react, how to touch her,
and what to say. Yet when it came to the outside world, he was like a child seeing it for the first time. The smallest things amazed him: the sight of a squirrel scurrying up an oak tree, a mother duck leading her ducklings safely across the street, the feel of a breeze against his skin, and the manner in which the clouds rolled across the sky. These things would have gone unnoticed by any normal person, but to Donté, it all held a peculiar fascination.
It was sweet because through his eyes, she got to see a world she had formerly paid very little attention to. However, it also made her wonder. Where had he been that he hadn’t seen clouds, or felt the breeze against his skin? Where had he been raised where he wasn’t taught you never, ever messed with a mother duck’s babies? The man had actually tried to catch one of the ducklings to bring home as a pet for heaven’s sake.
Phia wondered, but a part of her decided this was one of those things she probably didn’t need to know. Instead of asking him, she laid her questions aside and had snuggled a little closer into his embrace.
She turned away from the ending scene of the cast they were watching and looked up at him as she brushed her fingers along his cheek. He glanced down at her before looking back up at the teletron. Phia traced the tips of her manicured nails along his lower lip, ran the pad of her thumb over the gentle dip of his chin, and whispered his name.
Donté looked down at her again, but this time he didn’t look away. He held her gaze, his question unspoken, as she slipped her hand around the base of his head and brought him down to her.
Phia nibbled on his lower lip, allowing her tongue to slip into his mouth, tasting the sweet nectar of his saliva. His hand ran the length of her belly, and she deepened the kiss as her arms came up to partially encircle his neck. His hand slipped up her thighs and into her panties. His fingers ran gently up and down her slit before he dipped in and allowed his fingers to dance through her wetness. She arched up off his lap, hungry for everything he offered and more. A moan of absolute pleasure slipped from her.