by C C Monroe
“Don’t say anything else. Just make me feel you again.”
I obey her command without a second longer. Grabbing her hips, I lift her effortlessly, the frailness in her small structure evident as I move us to the couch. The last time we made love on this sofa, the heat between us was scorching and our sensibility completely absent. Asking her to marry me as she bore down on my cock, her senses flooded with a numbing orgasm, was the last thing we did here. I grow homesick for her even more so now, becoming needy for some nostalgia.
As I set her on the couch, Lana stares at me, watching me with a fever as the sensual aura grows thick around us. Dropping to my knees, I roughly grab hold of her knees and spread them apart far enough to accommodate my shoulders.
“Daddy is fucking hungry. Keep it down, baby, or I will stop.” With that, I shut her up before she can protest, licking my tongue up the center of her slightly parted slit.
“Ahh! Oh my God!” she screams, and I pull away.
“Baby,” I growl, “you have to be quiet or I’ll stop. I’m not going to let Trey hear your moans. Those are mine.” She nods, biting her lip. “Say it, then.”
Her eyes hood and she takes deep breaths, her hands flat against the leather couch. “My moans are yours—only yours. Now please me, my king.”
“That’s a good girl.” Dropping my head again, I repeat the movement I just made seconds ago, dragging my tongue up her swollen lips and nipping the top center before doing it again. Ready for more of her taste, I peer up at her. Her head’s thrown back and her small fingers claw at the leather of the couch as she chokes on her moans, knowing I’ll stop if she doesn’t.
The trail my hands make up and over her knees and along her thighs has her skin coating in a thousand raised bumps of arousal.
“Kings, please,” She says just above a whisper, and I smirk, moving my mouth as my fingers meet her pussy, spreading her tight lips and exposing her swollen clit and wet, tight hole.
“Fuck. Look at that pretty little pussy. My poor girl.” She drops her head, questioning me with her eyes. “I’m gonna fill you and stretch you so fucking far you’ll feel my cock-print for weeks. Give me some little orgasms so it wont hurt so bad, baby.”
I watch her fight a scream and then it happens. Unable to believe it, I watch her core clench, her pussy throbbing as she releases her juices. She fucking came. Without my tongue, just my words. Holy fucking shit.
“Damn, baby.” I appreciate her. She cries out, breathing heavily and trying to hide her little moans, and the control I possess over her right now is astonishing. Making her come with my words, keeping her silent on my command so Trey can’t hear us, is fucking intoxicating. After months, she is weakened enough to break down barriers and let me relinquish some control over her body, over her mind, over her.
“One is enough,” I snap, losing the battle against my own restraint. Quickly, I move her, laying her out underneath me. I whip my cock from unzipped jeans again and, without warning, I toss her legs over my shoulders and slam into her. Holy fuck! Tight, warm, and so fucking good. Lana sucks in my cock with her greedy pussy and I start to pound her mercilessly. One hand on the armrest above her head, I use my other to pinch her rosy nipple between my thumb and pointer finger. The sight is vicious-looking with my large, rough, calloused hand and her little nipple being pulled and pinched.
“Ah!” she squeaks when I hit her deep, the head of my cock ramming her cervix violently.
“You’re such a good queen, letting the king have his prized pussy. Taking all of me when you can barely fit me. God, you turn me on. You fucking cripple me, baby.” I pound crudely with all my words. Her free tit bounces lightly. I love how small she is, how dainty she is against my brute frame. Like a beast and his lady.
“You feel so good, Kingston. Fuck me harder,” She cries, and no longer do I care if anyone hears. Let them hear me reclaiming my woman. Let them hear me make her come on my cock while I flood her womb with my seed.
Sitting back, I keep fucking her with less force, only slipping from her as I flip her over faster than she can blink. Grabbing her hips, I pull her ass up and make sure her knees are together so she is even tighter. Leaning back more, I line my hard, red cock up with her and slide in.
“Oh, yeah, that’s it,” I groan. I never want anything else. Never in a million years could I tire from Lana or her sex. I hope I never have to walk away, that she truly is ready to get better, because this right here is something I can never give up. I would sacrifice me before I ever sacrifice her.
“I’m gonna come, Kingston. Please come with me.”
“Fuck, baby.” I bend and kiss her shoulder. “Hold onto the armrest.”
She listens, gripping the leather. I lean with my front flat against her back, our sweaty skin hot between us. I lay my arms over hers and lock my hands in hers on the armrest. With a few more thrusts, I know we’re both ready.
“Come, my queen. Now!” I growl in her ear, and like my command came out, she orgasms the same way, harsh, fast, and demanding, taking all of me with her. Losing myself inside her, I release months of pent up sexual need.
“Wow,” She breathes, dropping her head, our bodies still in formation as we come down.
“Don’t ever take your body away from me again, Lana,” I threaten her, knowing I mean more than just her body. I don’t want her to rob me again of her touch, her laugh, herself.
“I’m trying. I promise we’re going to get better.” She sits up, losing my cock. I fall back on the couch and pull her with me, bringing her chest to mine as she lies effortlessly and almost weightless on top of me.
“I know you are.”
“I want to be better for me, you, and Prince.”
I smirk thinking of him. “I miss him right now. I’m about to say fuck work and come home to spoil you two. I want alone time with the family.” Tracing over my Shayla tattoo, she kisses between my pecs.
“We can spend all day tomorrow together. Princeton needs new baby clothes since he’s growing so fast. Maybe we could go to the mall?”
“Yeah, we can do that. I can’t believe he’s gotten so big. I swear he gains a pound a day. Little stud is gonna outgrow me before he’s even ten.”
She giggles and I smile at the sound.
“Impossible, you’re a giant bulldozer. Ain’t no one outgrowing you.”
“True.” We laugh together, my cockiness breaking through our love fog.
“Thank you for today.”
“Oh no, baby, thank you,” I joke, squeezing her ass.
“Hush, I’m serious.” With a chuckle, she pinches my chest.
“Ouch, okay, okay.” I laugh back. “You’re welcome. But honestly, you did it all on your own. I should be thanking you. Because, Lana...I really don’t want to lose this.” I pull her into my chest deeper and flush against the after-heat of our lovemaking.
“I don’t want to lose you, ever, Kingston. And I know I still have work to do, but every time we step foot in that office, I will be open. And one day, when I’m strong enough, I’ll be better completely, outside of that room.” I want to believe it, and the greater part of me does, but until we cross that bridge, I have to stay guarded indefinitely.
“Thank you, Lana. One day at a time.” I kiss her forehead and we fall into silence for a few minutes before I get us up and dressed. We need to face life for a few more hours until I can get home and spend time with my little family.
Driving home after being with Kingston for the first time in months feels exhilarating. For the first time in a long time, I’m starting to feel like me again. I feel beautiful, confident, unafraid. My confession was shocking. Part of me doesn’t even remember the entire session with Dr. Moore; almost like once I shared it, I released it.
A new determination has sparked within me to get better, a new sense of hope. If I could, I would go to Dr. Moore everyday. But alongside this spark of hope, there is a sense of embarrassment—a letdown. Had I known the power of an unknown outsider cou
ld get me to say what I feel out loud, to admit my past and take ownership of the abuse, I could have avoided the painful five-plus years I have put myself through.
I get it now. No, I’m not healed in four sessions, but I find the appeal, the draw to therapy. The freedom you feel with each painful memory, the rising of the tide and the washing away of burdens. My smile is peeking through, the cracks are vastly growing, and my wall is slowly crumbling.
Pulling up to the red light, I check my phone, my heart rate accelerating as I see a text from Kingston.
Kingston: I’m proud of you. I told you queens were strong. PS: I miss your sexy little body already.
I chuckle, blushing, actually blushing like it’s my first text from him ever. Peering up to check the light is still red, I look down to text back when my Jeep lurches forward, as does my body with the impact. I hit my head against the steering wheel and drop my phone to the floorboard.
My head starts to pound, and the throbbing begins instantaneously. Rubbing the area lightly, I assess my surroundings and finally zero in on what just happened. Looking behind me, I see a black SUV backing up from my car where they just rammed into me. Opening the door to see the damage from their abrupt hit, I expect the driver to stop and get out, but instead, they swerve around the Jeep and peel away. I begin to holler after them as other pedestrians and drivers come up to me. I see a few on their phones and a couple trying to see the license plate on the black SUV, but no one has any luck.
Did I seriously just encounter a hit and run?
My head hurts, but no serious damage is done to my body when the ambulance shows up and assesses me. I’m sitting in the back of the ambulance, telling the police the story. I couldn’t see the driver, because the windows were too tinted and I didn’t have time to fully adjust to everything, to pay enough attention. I knew this day was going way too good.
“Miss, would you like your phone and personal belongings before we tow your Jeep?”
I nod, and he hands me my phone and purse. I unlock my screen, deciding I better call Kingston. It’s nearing 4:00, and this whole thing took way longer than I expected. I didn’t even think to call him until I had a police report and everything filled out first.
After I dial his number, he answers on the third ring. “Mama, what’s up?”
I swallow, and for some reason, I choke up, growing emotional. “H-hey,” I stutter on a quiet sob.
“Lana! What’s wrong?” he asks.
I shake my head, and both the EMT and officer step away to give me some privacy. I look at the smashed back end of my Jeep as it lifts onto the tow truck and see how bad the damage was. I’m so thankful nothing else happened, that a bump on the forehead was the most of the damage. And what’s more important? I’m lucky my son wasn’t in the car with me. I don’t know what I would have done.
“I...I was...h-hit by an...an... Shit! I was in a hit and run—a car accident.” I try to self-soothe, counting to three in my head like Dr. Moore said.
“Fuck! Where are you, baby? Are you on the way to the hospital? Was Prince in the car?” He chokes out the last part.
“No, no, he wasn’t. I’m on 54th Street, right at the light by the Italian restaurant. I’m fine. They don’t need to take me to the hospital, but I’m sure whoever hit me totaled my car. Theirs has to be just as bad.”
“I’m on my way. Are the police still there with you?”
“Yeah, they just finished asking me questions.”
“Okay, I will be there in less than three minutes. Don’t worry.”
“‘Kay.”
“Stay on the phone with me, take some deep breaths. It’s okay, you’re okay, and that’s all that matters.” He calms me down the best he can.
One second, I’m daydreaming about Kingston, and the next, I’m hit by another car. I was at a red light. He or she had to have seen me stopped, and who the hell hits and runs anymore? Especially in a nice car like they had. They obviously have money.
I don’t answer him or speak anymore. I just do my deep breathing and count my blessings. Prince is okay. I get a ding on my phone and pull it away, seeing Shayla calling.
“Kingston, Shayla is calling me. I should take it and let her know where we are. I was supposed to pick Prince up at 3:00.”
“Okay, I’m pulling up in less than a minute. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Switching over calls, I answer Shay before it goes to voicemail. “Hey, listen, I’m so sorry I’m late. I was in a car accident.”
“Oh my God! Lana, are you okay?” she shouts.
“Yes, it was a hit and run. He rear-ended me and I’ve been busy with the EMTs and police. I didn’t have a minute to call.”
“Lana, where are you? We will come see you.” I hear her rushing around and yelling for Trey.
“Shay, no, it’s okay. Kingston is almost here, and then he’s going to take us home. I’ll be there in about an hour. Please, it’s okay.”
“Lana, oh my God. What a...a...a douche canoe, taking off like some shithead.”
I chuckle through a sniff. Shayla still doesn’t curse, so when she does, it’s always entertaining.
“Who took off? Was she in a hit and run?” I hear Trey in the background at the same time Kingston’s Bimmer comes screeching up behind the ambulance.
“Shay, Kingston is here. I will see you soon. Sorry for being late.”
“No, we are fine. See you soon. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
“Baby!” Kingston runs up to me. Bending, his face meets mine as his hands run rampant over my body, checking for any signs of injury. When his eyes settle on the small bump on my head, he leans in and places gentle kisses atop it. “Fuck, I was so scared when you said you were in a car accident.”
“I’m okay. I promise. Just get me home. I’m a mess.”
“Okay, give me a minute to talk to the officer. Go get in the car. Do you have your purse and everything?” he questions, and I nod, reaching behind me to grab it. “Okay, give me a second and we’ll leave.”
I don’t even hesitate. I’m ready to get home to my son. I watch Kingston exchange some words with the policeman, and after a few minutes, he shakes his hand and joins me in the car.
“Baby, please tell me you’re okay.” He starts up the car and, grabbing my hand in his, he hauls it up to his lips, peppering it with kisses.
“I’m fine. It was just unexpected, nerve-shattering,” I admit.
“Tell me what happened.”
I tell him what little there is to tell. It happened so fast and unexpectedly that I don’t have much story to download.
“What did you tell the officer?” I ask at the end of my story.
“I gave him my number and asked him to call me with any information. I also asked him how often they catch hit and runs.”
“And?” I’m curious to know, because I want this jerk to get caught.
“He said not too often, but they will work on it.” He seems peeved, just like he does when something isn’t done his way.
“Thank you for talking to him.”
“Of course. I want to find this fucker and give them a fucking piece of my mind.”
“I’m really okay. It was more emotional than anything.”
“Yeah, and you’re fragile right now.”
“Amen.”
He keeps looking over at me during the rest of the drive—double, triple checking I’m okay. “Monkey,” I breathe as Kington’s car rolls to a stop in Trey and Shayla’s driveway, feeling a flood of relief.
“You get him packed while I pack up my shit from the guest room.”
I nod, happy that Kingston is coming home after two weeks of me being in an empty house.
Walking in, I instantly hear Prince wailing and crying from the kitchen. My breasts feel heavy and my anxiety begins to spike. I need him; it’s been four hours without him.
“Hey, hey. Mama’s here,” I announce, stepping into the kitchen. I make a few small advances and take hi
m from Shayla’s arm. She has his bottle, but he isn’t taking it. He wants to latch. Oh, thank God, he wants to latch.
“Let me see him. He might want to nurse.” Swooping him into my arms, I cradle him and look behind me to see Trey isn’t in the room. Lifting my tank and bralette, I release my breast and bring him up. The second I do, he latches faster than he ever has.
“Oh, babe, look at him!” Shay says excitedly, my smile infectious.
“I know! He’s hungry. Has he eaten today?”
She tilts her head slightly. “A little, but he put up quite the fight. Must be a Mommy day.”
“Those are my favorite.”
I hear Trey and Kingston approaching, so I keep my back to where their voices are coming from.
“Lana, I’m glad you’re okay. I was really worried when Shay told me.”
Making sure my breast is covered enough, I turn.
“I know. I’m just happy Princeton wasn’t with me.” Before I fully situate into my new stance, Kings is on me, bringing his big frame to mine and blocking me from Trey.
“Babe! Your tit!” Kingston hollers. Shay chuckles, as do Trey and me.
“Oh no! Boobies!” I tease, and his nose flares and his face grows red before he looks down at our son.
“Calm down. Trey has seen enough boobs and breast-feeding,” Shayla chimes in.
“So, these are my tits. I don’t want him looking.” He almost pouts, and it’s actually adorable. I’m beyond spoiled and turned on by all the attention he’s giving me today.
“Dude, she’s like my sister. I ain’t gawking. Fucking chill, Neanderthal. You’ve seen Shay’s tits and I don’t freak out.”
Kings looks over his shoulder and shoots him a snarky glare. “Because she’s my saint of a sister. It’s different. I used to change her diapers.”
We all bust up laughing, all of us but Kingston. I’m careful to not separate Prince and me as I save Kings from all this torture, to reel him back in when Shay and Trey busy themselves with the twins.
“Hey,” I whisper, bringing my free hand to his hot chest. He looks down at me with a scowl and I smirk at his possessive ways. “Look at him eat. Isn’t it beautiful?”
