Sexual Healing

by Allison Hobbs

  Damn. He was really bugging. Hard.

  Still, he sighed inwardly, surprisingly relieved that she hadn’t left. Him.

  “Good morning,” she greeted, a smile easing over her lush mouth.

  “Mornin’,” he said, leaning back on his elbow. “I thought you left,” he admitted.

  “Oh, no. You’re not getting rid of me that easy,” she said pointedly as she approached the bed. “You have me all to yourself, allll morning.” She set the tray down on the bed, then tilted her head. “That’s if you want me.”

  Hell yeah, he wanted her. His dark eyes swept over her body, from head to toe and back again, coming to rest on her swelling breasts, her thick nipples. Instantly, he felt himself becoming aroused. She was wet and ready, aching between her legs, her clit pulsing, and Cruze could sense her hunger for him as she could his for her. He was hard, now, at the sight of her, his dick bouncing up and down as his gaze caressed her body.

  No woman had ever had this type of effect on him, his body. Not even Ramona. Shit. He had to stop this. Comparing this, to that—her.

  She walked over toward his stereo, then turned on the CD player, her thick, juicy ass on display. Cruze eased back in bed, his stomach suddenly rumbling for more than mere food.

  Seconds later, Jon Schuyler’s “Space” started playing as she made her way back to the bed. “Hungry?” she asked huskily, innuendo thickly laced in her question.

  She shot him a cheeky grin at her double entendre, and Cruze let out an audible sigh, the look in his eyes ravenous. “What you feeding me,” he rasped, his heavy-lidded gaze heating over her skin.

  “Something sweet,” she answered back, her tone teasingly sensual.

  She flicked her tongue at him, and Cruze groaned. Shit. She’d quickly become his dirty little plaything. His, and his alone, and that knowing sent him reeling over the edge. She hadn’t even touched him yet, and he was ready to bust, pre-cum drizzling out of his dick.

  Arabia licked her lips. Mmm, the sight of his beautiful erection made her want to flick her tongue over his dick and lick at his tip, then wetly slide her lips vigorously up and down his thick length. The walls of her cunt contracted with want, making her pussy surge with warm juices. Oh, God, yes. She wanted him bad.

  Only him. And this, this was a startling revelation. She’d never wanted anyone as bad as she wanted him, now . . . and in the future, in her future. God. She never imagined ever thinking that, that she could see a future—a real one—with anyone.

  Arabia looked at him—and it reminded her of how damn ruggedly beautiful he was, the sensation rippling through her soul, shocking her to her core.

  Things between them were happening so fast that she hadn’t had a chance to fully comprehend, to completely absorb, the fact that she was becoming tangled up in him. And she hoped like hell she wasn’t in this alone. The thought of giving herself wholly to a man—to him—frightened and, somehow, excited her.

  She climbed up on the bed. Then instructed Cruze to rise to his knees. He gave her a questioning look, and she smiled lazily at him. “Trust me. Please.”

  He smirked. “Yeah, a’ight. Don’t be trying to tie me up in here.”

  Arabia laughed, pulling him by the hand. “Dreams do come true, don’t they?”

  “Not today, they don’t,” Cruze shot back, a smile forming his lips. And with little prodding, he finally acquiesced. Then they were both on their knees in the center of the bed, facing each other—the breakfast tray and his protruding sex the only things between them.

  She smiled, and then he smiled again.

  “What you ’bout to do?” he asked huskily.

  “Feed you,” Arabia said seductively, just above a whisper.

  Cruze flushed, then pulled in his bottom lip. “Oh, word?”

  She nodded slowly as she dipped two fingers into the bowl of melted chocolate, swirling them until her digits were coated.

  “And then what you gonna do?” Cruze probed, eyeing her. His stare piercing her so hotly that it set her cunt ablaze, made her clit ache.

  “You’ll have to wait and see,” she said teasingly, trying desperately not to touch herself. “Just know. It might get messy.”

  “Maybe I want it messy,” he teased back.

  Heat flashed in her eyes as she coaxed him to open his mouth and pulled her hand from the bowl of warm chocolate, before sliding her silky soft fingers in. Cruze’s mouth closed over her fingers, and he sucked; his tongue laving her sweet fingers, then sucking them again until her fingers were clean. Arabia’s pussy clenched.

  She moaned. “Mmm. You like that?”

  Cruze licked his lips. “Yeah. I love that shit.”

  She scooped a finger back into the chocolate, then slowly swirled it over her right nipple. She scooped again, then coated her left nipple.

  Cruze groaned, and Arabia smiled naughtily. “Eat me,” she said, cupping her breasts as an offering.

  “Damn,” he muttered, his dick bobbing viciously, his balls tightening, swelling. He grabbed his dick, shook it, then stroked it. Arabia freed her breasts from her hands and reached beneath him and squeezed his balls.

  “No. Let go. I’ll take care of that.”

  “Fuck,” he hissed. “When? I wanna fuck.”

  “Soon enough,” she whispered. “Now eat.”

  He eyed her, smiling indulgently at her. Then lowered his head and flicked his tongue over her rigid chocolate-coated peak. Arabia let out a whimper, her head lolling back as he tongued her nipple until it became more rigid, more sensitive, aching and tight. Then he turned and gave the other nipple equal attention, his tongue swirling over the tip, then suckling it into his mouth.

  Surprisingly, he took his time, his tongue moving unhurriedly over each nipple. Arabia let out what sounded like a purr, reaching for more melted chocolate, then grabbing his cock and coating its shaft until it was covered in chocolate, making his dick darker, sweeter, more mouthwatering.

  Cruze moaned. “Yeah, baby. Stroke that dick.” He caressed her breasts, then alternated between flicking his thumbs over each nipple or pinching them, intensifying her lust. And then he cupped her breasts and brought them together, moving his mouth back and forth from one nipple to the other until he sucked them clean. He sucked them gently at first, and then harder with wet rhythmic pulls that made the room spin and had her seeing stars.

  Arabia’s nectar dripped from her slit and slowly slid down her inner thighs. She slid a peach slowly over Cruze’s lips, then into his mouth. He grinned, his dick stretching as she stroked him, and the sweet fruit dissolved on his tongue, causing him to groan.

  She leaned in and flicked her tongue over his lips, then sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, savoring the sweetness of his lips.

  A fire blazed in his eyes, and Arabia knew she was bringing him a new kind of pleasure. One she hoped he’d never forget.

  She plunked a strawberry into his mouth. Staring right into his eyes, she watched him chew, then swallow. And the heat in her gaze notched up, causing his body to light up. His desire for her was roiling out of control, like a wild brushfire.

  Bryson Tiller’s “Exchange” seeped through the speakers.

  “Why you fucking with me?” Cruze murmured.

  “What, what am I doing?” she asked coyly.

  He cast his gaze down at the enormous, turgid erection in her hand slathered in chocolate, then looked back up at her, deeply in her eyes. “Yeah, a’ight. You know what you doing.”

  Her eyes flickered, and an unexpected heat singed his senses. He saw something in her eyes at that very moment—the way she looked at him, the way no other woman had ever looked at him. And it suddenly overwhelmed him. Cruze felt wanted. Arabia wanted him. And he felt it. Or had he imagined it.

  Nah. He saw what he saw. He kept his gaze locked on hers. And there was that flicker again, of heat, of l
ust, of . . .want.

  He swallowed. God, she was breaking him. Brick by brick, she was slowly uncovering a layer of him. And he didn’t know what to make of it.

  Arabia reached for another strawberry with her free hand and swirled it into the chocolate. She brought it to Cruze’s lips, and he bit into it, its juices splashing out and trickling down his chin. She licked her lips, then leaned forward and licked his chin, then gently sucked it into her mouth, before licking down his neck, then over his shoulder, then trailing her tongue along the center of his chest. She pinched his nipples unexpectedly and he shuddered, emitting an animalistic growl that vibrated through his body.

  “Shit, baby. Fuck.”

  He wanted inside her. Now. So he reached for her pussy and cupped her there. His thumb sliding over her clit, before his fingers found her puffy cunt lips, slick and hot.

  And there they were, heavy-lidded gazes locked on each other, stroking each other, teasing each other. Arabia moaned. He moaned.

  He grunted. She grunted.

  Arabia slowly twisted her hips and moved her pelvis, sucking a shuddering breath between her teeth. Cruze’s finger slipped between her folds and she choked back a sob of pleasure, her sticky fingers cupping his balls, while her other hand rapidly stroked the length of him.

  “Aaah, shit, yeah,” he murmured. “You gonna make me nut.”

  “Mmm, yes,” she breathed out. “Give it to me, daddy. Mmm. I want you to nut all over my hand.” She reached for more chocolate and swirled her hand over and around the head of his dick. Cruze’s body jerked. He thrust his hips, matching her strokes.

  “C’mon, let me get some pussy.”

  “No,” she whispered, her gaze burning into his. “Not yet.”

  Cruze hissed, cursed beneath his breath. He didn’t know how much more of this sweet torture he could handle. She had his body overheating. He couldn’t take it any longer. His face was etched in ecstasy, eyes closed, head thrown back.

  “Oh, shit,” he groaned. “I’m coming. I’m coming. Aaah, aah . . . aaaaaah! I’m getting ready to bust.”

  “Mmm. Yes, yes . . . give it to me. Give me that nut. Come for me. Mmm. Come for me . . .”

  Another growl, and Cruze exploded, his body shaking as his climax ripped through him, his orgasm shooting out in thick white ropes of hot pleasure.

  And then Arabia hunched over and sucked him into her mouth, her tongue swirling over the head of his sweet creamy dick, catching the remaining drips of his orgasm. He moaned as she pulled back, her wet mouth dragging over his shaft. She then licked her way back down his shaft, then back up his length, to the tip, where she used her tongue to swirl away the mixture of chocolate and nut. Her sultry lips slid up and down his shaft, up and down, making him wetter and wetter, sucking the remaining chocolate away until Cruze began to feel lightheaded.

  She sucked him deeper into the recesses of her greedy mouth until her lips pressed into his groin; she swallowed him, then extended her tongue and lapped his balls as she hummed and gurgled. Oh, God—fuck yeah. She gurgled and hummed and sucked and licked until she coaxed another gut-wrenching nut out of him.

  Then, satisfied, she eased back up on her knees and brought her nut-covered hand to her lips. Cruze eyed her lazily and spent as she slid her tongue over the back of her hand, then sucked her fingers into her mouth, tasting him, savoring him.

  He could do nothing but flop back on the bed, pulling Arabia down with him. And they lay quiet and sticky and breathless in the aftershock of something Cruze had no words for.

  • • •

  “I want you to fuck me in my ass,” Arabia said in Cruze’s arms. Her voice came in a low, gentle rasp out of nowhere.

  His chest tightened, and he fought to keep the frown from covering his face. He’d fucked lots of pussy. But ass? Nah. He’d never gone that route before, and he’d never thought about sliding his dick in any. He equated ass with shit. And shit on his dick wasn’t a good look. So the idea of anal sex never appealed to him.

  But now . . .

  He rose up and looked down at her. “Yo, you see how big my dick is?”

  Arabia looked up at him through her lashes, and smiled. “Uh, yeah. I see it. And?”

  “And aren’t you scared that shit’s gonna hurt?”

  “No.” Arabia moaned and wrapped her arm over his chest. “It’ll be a sweet burn. It’ll hurt, but it’ll be the kind of pain that brings me to pleasure. My ass is already clenching in anticipation.”

  Cruze laughed, shaking his head. “Yo, you a freak; you know that, right?”

  She nodded, running a hand over his nipple. “Yeah. And now I’m your freak.” Oops. She hadn’t meant to say that. Had she? No, no. She really hadn’t, even if she’d thought about it over the last few days. But there was no way to take it back. Still, she couldn’t really be his. Could she? Oh, God, he and his dick had her so, so, damn confused. She had some loose ends in her life. There was Wellson. And lest she forget about that pesky-ass Eric still lurking in the shadows, trying to break her resolve to take him back.

  She lightly pinched Cruze’s nipple, and a quivery breath left him. “So what are you going to do about it?”

  “I’ma handle it,” he admitted, curiosity slowly spreading through him. If she wanted him to fuck her in her ass, then he’d have to man-up and fuck her shithole loose. “But, I’m sayin’ . . . you gonna have to make sure that ass is cleaned out good if you want my dick in it.”

  Now it was Arabia’s turn to laugh, and she looked up at him. “Boy, stop. I stay clean. And I stay ready. And when you stay ready, you don’t ever have to get ready. You just make sure you’re ready when I put this ass up on you.”

  He arched his eyebrow at her and shook his head.

  “Yeah, a’ight. We’ll see.”

  Arabia ran her hand over his chest again, then kissed his shoulder. Her hand shamelessly glided down over the ripples of his abdomen, then brushed over the thick thatch of hair that framed the base of his dick, before settling over his shaft. Instantaneously, she felt him thicken beneath her touch.

  Cruze closed his eyes for a moment. He’d come a long way from the last time she’d been in his bed, when he’d grabbed her wrist and told her he wasn’t beat for broads touching him. But now he liked her touching him. Wanted her touching him.

  He fucked. Hard. Making love wasn’t his thing. So when had he become that dude who wanted, craved, to make love to a woman as badly as he wanted to make love to Arabia?

  The shit was mind-boggling.

  “Where did you learn to be so nasty?” Cruze asked.

  A laugh burbled up from the back of her throat. “I’m not that nasty,” she said, feigning insult. “I happen to be a woman who is very comfortable in her skin, in her sexuality. I love sex, and lots of it,” she admitted. “And I take what I want. Is that a problem for you?” She slid her warm hand up and down over his abs and his chest. Her touch made him shiver, and his dick stretch.

  He grunted in answer. Hell no. It wasn’t a problem for him. He wanted sex with her—lots of it. And right now he wished she’d shut up this talking and take his dick. Take it and fuck it. Ride it. He wanted some pussy. More of it, to be exact, but for whatever reason, she was being stingy with it. What the fuck was up with that? He didn’t want to be the one to take it—again, but fuck if he wouldn’t—because he knew, at the end of the day, she wanted him to have it. Own it. Possess it.

  “You ever been in a threesome?” he asked, unsure as to why he asked or if he really wanted to know the answer to that. But the question was asked, and now it hung in the air between them, dangling like a noose.

  The Weeknd’s “As You Are” began to play, and Arabia sighed. To tell, or not to tell . . .

  She knew—and now he knew, she could be a wanton. Could be a sex-crazed slut. But she wasn’t sure she wanted him to know her dirty secrets. Wasn’t sure
she wanted him to know her darker, dirtier self—the one who frequented sex clubs and fucked on the side of abandoned buildings.

  No. He couldn’t know. She didn’t want him to know.

  And, yet, she shifted her body, rolled on her side, then looked at him and admitted a part of her truth. “Yes,” she whispered. And somehow, when she nodded her head, Cruze let out a breath—one he hadn’t realized he was holding.

  She propped up on one of his pillows and Cruze rolled toward her, too, as she continued, “I was fourteen.”

  Cruze’s eyes went wide with surprise. Damn. She’d been giving out her pussy like that? His face was expressionless, but inside he was looking at her crazy. “Say what? You were fourteen?” Fucking grown-ass lil’ heifer.

  Arabia nodded again. “Yeah.” She sighed, then closed her eyes and allowed herself to slip back in time. “My boyfriend at the time was nineteen. And—”

  Cruze frowned. “Nineteen? Damn, he was old as hell.”

  Arabia agreed. “But I always liked older guys.” She swiped a strand of hair from her face. “Anyway, Efrain and I were together for almost a year. And we’d been having sex for about three months, when one night I was at his house down in his basement. The lights were down low. He was between my legs, eating my pussy, fingering me, getting me ready for him . . .”

  Cruze cringed inwardly. But said nothing.

  Arabia pushed out a breath. “Then out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. And when I looked over, it was one of Efrain’s cousins and another guy coming toward us, their dicks out.”

  Cruze frowned. What the fuck?

  Arabia pulled in her bottom lip, shaking her head. “They’d been in the room watching us.”

  “And you didn’t know?”

  She slowly shook her head. “No. They came from out of nowhere. But later, I learned they’d been in the closet the whole time. But then, I didn’t know. And when I asked Efrain why they were in there with us. He told me . . .”

  “I wanna fuck you with my cousin and my boy,” he murmured. “You gonna let us fuck you, baby?”