by Love Belvin
I bit my lip with squeezed eyes and willed him inside. My fingers gripped his straining neck, breasts lifted to reach his hard chest, and spine poised to welcome him in. His heat, angry expression, scent, disregard, and thickness had made the choice and he began to rock into me. His first few plunges were rough, intensifying the ache. But I commanded my body to relax, to open to Raj. I opened my eyes and peered deeply into his. In my heart, I felt it was the right thing to do. Ragee needed human connection. His face was hard, jaw locked with determination. Did he feel he had something to prove? I had no idea what was going through his mind, but it worked. Raj’s lunges into me were smoothing in no time, but his penetration was deep—aggressive and thorough. There was a distinct friction against the walls of my sex, making my belly feel air-light.
My eyes rolled to the back of my head.
Shit…
It hit me. It was the piercing. I felt it, both balled ends pushed against my swollenness, revealing pleasure points I never knew existed. His breathing chopped as he plummeted into me, loosening me with each thrust. My robe had slackened, exposing the thin gown I wore underneath. Raj pulled it up to clear the way. His abdomen smacked against the puffy pouch of mine with each thrust. Biting his lip, his head dropped, regarding our meeting place. When my eyes followed, I saw the ramming of his heavy ridged muscle, all but the head of it. It was covered in my translucent excitement. He was veiny down there, too, the dense root surrounded by a black, wiry bush. And that damn reckless knocking against my walls…
“Oh!” I chirped when a volt of pleasure sparked in my core.
It was so powerful and unexpected, my back gave out and I almost fell back onto the mixing board. My hand flew back to break the fall, but hit a button. The sounds of Raj’s vocals without the music filled the air. Realization played on my face when my eyes widened and I stared into his empty eyes as he pounded into me. Raj’s voice, though I’d heard it close to a hundred times by now, was nothing short of instrumental. It was strong, pure, agile, and dense. The harmony was synced, delivered with clear pitch. The irony of it all was dizzying.
I was in a multi-million-dollar studio, having sex with my fake husband—who was actually my legal husband—a Grammy winning, B-list actor. He’d had a particular disdain for me, but after months of being forced into a life together, had begun to trust me to share private conversations. He’d kissed me recently, told me things I was sure were unavailable to his fan base. And now, under the spell of his majestic vocals, he was unraveling me in a way I couldn’t explain.
Raj’s pelvis circled as he grinded into me, sending the apex of him hitting all over my womb, his metal member banging all around. A delicious disturbance. My core shook then vibrated, the walls of my sex gripped him with growing need. My spine arched, legs lifted and tightened behind him. My heels dug into his hard, smooth ass as I held onto him like the next few moments would change everything for me.
And it did.
A bomb imploded in my groin and my pelvis pelted over Raj. I pulled his hard body into me, yanking his face down to mine and cried into his mouth as a cloud of bliss showered over my entire body. My tongue stilled and neck gave out as my lungs burned from efforts of silence. I floated in his arms with him driving between my tense thighs. And it wouldn’t stop. Pleasure rolled in over and over and over again, panicking me. I lifted my head and peered into his eyes, no longer able to hear anything but our coarse breathing. A sharp glimmer sparked in his one vacant eye.
Quickly, the muscles around his eyes went lax as he watched me intently.
Floating, I mouthed, Raj.
It was a helpless cry in a moment I was lost to complete euphoria, seeing and hearing everything in slow motion. I’d never experienced pleasure this long after an orgasm—maybe I was still coming? It was frightening and…blissful as hell. When I was able to feel prickling in my toes again, gratitude filled my chest and I grabbed his head again, bringing his soft mouth to mine. My tongue pushed inside and swiped against his. Then he withdrew, his mouth and lethal cock, and pulled me from the lip of the mixing board. He spun me around and bent me over faster than I realized; my nose was inches away from a row of knobs. My legs were spread, drenched pussy rubbed over with his impatient and searching fingers, and abruptly, he was inside me again.
His hands gripped my waist as he plummeted into me hard. I could feel my body begin to mist under the thick robe, but the sense of Raj’s now familiar scent was louder. His thrusts were strong and deep, and in this position the impression of the balls from his piercing bar was new. The curve of his thickness reached a new sensitive spot. I stood tense on my toes, trying to hold my balance against his plunges.
In no time, my groin began to quicken. My spine lengthened of its own accord. No longer were his lunges too wild; I wanted more. Craved more. He lifted me by the chin and his thrusts turned upward. His lips were on mine, tongue ravishing my mouth. That was a bad move. Within seconds an orgasm rolled over me again. I could barely manage on shaky legs and a wobbling spine. Couldn’t believe I was coming this way. It had never happened. This time, I could tell it was Raj caught off guard and unable to breathe. The thrust of his hips grew unilaterally. They no longer swiveled to knock the head of his cock against the walls of my sex anymore. And he grew thicker inside of me, pelting faster.
Lips to lips, I felt his jaw go lax, but I didn’t want to lose him in the moment. I wanted Raj to stay with me in the space. So, I grabbed him by the back of the head and pulled his tongue into my mouth sucking on it while tightening the walls of my sex. I milked his tongue and dick while lifting my pelvis into his hard thrusts.
A tortured croak leaped from the back of his throat into my mouth. His arms gripped me harder, pelvis drove deeper, and eyes slowly rolled to the back of his head before closing. I could feel him throbbing inside of me almost as perceptibly as his chest beating against me. I remained arched to him until his arms relaxed around me, a gazillion thoughts running through my mind. And for the next few seconds, Raj held onto me.
With a pounding heart and uncontrolled breathing, his thick chords tumbled, “I—” Ragee swallowed, hesitating. “I know we did the tests and stuff…but…I ‘on’t know about your birth—”
“I’m covered,” I immediately offered, not wanting him plagued with that concern. “I’m more than covered.”
Pregnancy had never been ideal to me, so I eliminated it as an option as much as I could.
I felt the cool air of his relieving breath hit my hot neck before his arms withdrew and he pulled out of me. An ache sounded all over my frame, I was so tender. Raj immediately pulled his sweats up to rest low at his waist and aired out his shirt, righting it. Slowly, I turned and straightened my robe, my eyes pinned to him, closely observing.
He took a deep breath, nostrils still flared, eyes above my head. He wiped his mouth, cupping his beard, clearly struggling with a thought.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, my vocals regretfully trembling.
He rolled his eyes, letting go of another breath.
Raj shook his head, his eyes landing on me. “I don’t want you to—” His head swung away before returning. He pointed to my body covered in a robe then his finger swung back to himself, referring to what we’d just done. “I don’t wanna play games with you.”
“I’m not going to get hurt by a mindless fuck. My heart ain’t available to bullshit.” It was true. I may have been wildly attracted to him, but I was fully aware, this was no fairy tale romance. I had no idea what it was in the moment, but knew it was incidental at best. We were adapting to our circumstances and clearly acted on the attraction that had been building over time. Nothing more. “I’m built tougher than that.”
“Yeah…” he challenged, eyes brushing past me. “Me, too.” Maybe not his tone, but his words were dismissive, competitive.
Two minutes after sex, he was rejecting me again. What I couldn’t share was I didn’t have the fortitude to fight with him about his sudden mood change in this instanc
e. That “mindless fuck” had just stripped a piece of my armor. I needed to put space between us. Ragee’s guard was far stronger than anything I had in my artillery in the moment. Before I knew it, my feet were retreating from him already. They were dragging my heart from this disaster. My mind needed to catch up. I turned and headed for the door.
The channel connecting the studio suite to the main house was thankfully less eventful than earlier. My legs wobbled at each step and body trembled, weakened. And my throat… It was thick from trying to fight a budding explosion. I ducked my head in the bright foyer and took up the stairs as fast as I could. The commute felt like an eternity as I moved briskly down the long hall to the master wing of the second floor. After closing the door behind me, ripping the housecoat from my trembling frame, I locked it then stumbled over to the bed post, needing to catch my breath.
One… Two… Three… Four… Five…
I went all the way to fifty-five before I was able to gain my lungs. By the time I made it to the bathroom, his cum had reached my ankles. I was so shaken and disoriented, I ambled into the shower with my gown on. The water had heated and trickled all over me before I realized it was on. But I didn’t take it off just yet. I may have gained my lungs out by the bed, but my mind was a different story. That took even longer. I didn’t cry. That wasn’t my style, but I was able to recognize my vulnerability. The sting to my ego. Something about what happened over there wasn’t right. Even a mindless fuck wouldn’t leave me feeling bruised like this.
But I did nothing wrong…
Raj came on to me. I didn’t go down there to seduce him, just to celebrate—or simply, announce—my victory. When I grasped the answers wouldn’t come, I decided to pull the gown off and wash. I pushed myself to go on with my day. Mind fuck and all, Ragee wouldn’t get the better part of me. I was built stronger than that. This was an agreement. Something I had to see through, because I was a woman of my word.
After leaving the shower, I dressed for my work out. When that portion of my morning was done, I grabbed lunch from Earl’s kitchen then took a trip to Essex County Jail for a visit with my uncle where I acted as though I hadn’t had a sneak fuck attack that blew my entire mind.
Just like that, my day and the next few days ahead blew by without me crying about something I didn’t understand, neither could I control. Ragee came to bed and rose the next morning, leaving behind my citrusy water potion as usual, never breathing a word of what took place in his studio. And me? I wouldn’t give him the pleasure of my curiosity. What he could do, I could do even better.
I stood over his desk, watching him peel the lid off another aluminum container. “You wanna buy another quarter horse?”
He stuffed more chicken in his mouth and wouldn’t look at me. “Yeah. For Wynny.”
I rolled my eyes, knowing he couldn’t see. “Her name is Wynter. And she can’t even ride,” I tried. “Why would I pay for a horse for her, Arnie?”
Arnie’s hands fell to his desk beside his dinner containers. He preferred them to plates lately. “Because,” he sang out in a duh manner, annoyed, “she was sad. She was sad when I saw her before and she was sad when I went to see her today.”
He was getting upset, too. I knew this by how he balled his fists around his food. I let out a hard breath. I only drove back here to bring him his dinner before leaving for Bible study. My driver was waiting on me at the main house. I didn’t need this. The moment I pulled the truck in park, he was at the door, hyped up about a surprise. It took him to unpack his food here in his office stable—that he didn’t use as an office—to make this crazy announcement.
“She ain’t ya girlfriend, man.”
His head shot up. “She’s my sister-in-love!” His tone was as if I accused him of doing something wrong.
“Yeah, and my wife. You ain’t gotta get her stuff.”
“I want to make her smile. She’s sad.”
“Did she tell you she’s sad?”
“No.” Arnie shook his head stubbornly. “She looked sad, Gee-Gee.” He stuffed more food into his mouth.
I turned to lean back against the desk. Two days ago, after she ran out of the studio and I finally gave up and ended the session myself, Earl told me he saw Wynter kicking it with Arnie in the gazebo out back. That was weird. Arnie was never beat to come up to the main house. I’d have to bribe him to come if we had family over. For his birthdays, I had to get used to taking the party to his ranch. By the time I made it up to the master suite that day, I saw them from the terrace. It was before she took off to visit her uncle. I was glad Arnie brought Wynter up. I needed to nip this in the bud and now. Wynter may have been cool, but she was temporary. I didn’t want to mix my brother up in this mess, which was why I never introduced them.
I shook my head. “I can’t cop her a horse, Arnie.” That was final.
“Why?” His face was to his plate. “You let me get horsies when I want one.”
“Because Wynter ‘on’t want no horse, man.”
But mine…
She damn sure was good at mine. Memories of her throwing her pussy back at me was burned into my brain. I had no clue of her sexual experience, but that one time on the mixing board told me more than she ever let up in one of our late night chill sessions. It still messed me up how the best sex I ever had was with my fake wife.
“It’s gonna make her happy, Gee-Gee! Women need to be happy.” He stabbed a piece of broccoli with his fork. “Then they give us babies!”
“Whoa!” I jumped to my feet. “Whatchu know about babies, bruh?”
Arnie didn’t answer.
“Yo!” I called to him, but it was a waste of time.
If there was one thing we had in common, we McKinnon-Michaels brothers could shut out the loudest voices in the room. When we were done with conversation, we were done.
“Bruh-Bruh,” I started toward the door, needing to go, “ain’t nobody having babies around here, and that includes you and Sarah. A’ight?”
I watched his profile as Arnie kept eating. Wasn’t no answer coming from him. He’d officially given me his ‘fuck off” and I respected it.
“Don’t forget lil Anthony’s party is Saturday.” She stopped to giggle. “He said he wants Uncle Gee-Gee to sing “Happy Birthday” to him on YouTube,” she sputtered.
I laughed myself. Kids can come up with the craziest things. Anthony was Antwan and Heather’s oldest son. In his almost four-year-old mind, that made perfect sense. It kind of did, just not as fluid as he thought. I scratched my head, seeing we were pulling up to the house.
“Dude’s shot out.” I chuckled. “I’m not gonna be in town this weekend, though.” I’d forgotten all about lil Anthony’s birthday. Myisha usually kept me on top of things like this.
“You mean to tell me his godfather won’t be at his fourth birthday party?” I heard the bite in that, though Heather would never be direct with it. Her guilt wouldn’t let her.
I took a deep breath, feeling drained. Service was lit at Redeeming Souls. So lit, I almost regretted being home. There was something about losing yourself in the tabernacle. Getting through that and not having a good night’s sleep in three days had me running on empty.
“I’ll make it up to him.”
“You working?” I could hear more than simple curiosity in her inquiry.
The car stopped and I hopped out. “Nah. Not really. Super Bowl networking.”
“Super Bowl networking? The Kings made it, must be.”
“The hell you been?” I scoffed. “Under a damn rock? I know Antwan’s big on football.”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “He’s big on a lot, and not big at all.”
I shook my head with the phone to my ear. I wasn’t going there with Heather. We agreed that was one of our weak points. If she couldn’t be strong, I would.
“Yeah. My Kings made it again this year. Shit like this don’t happen. Like ever.” I let myself into the house and strolled down to the coat closet, not knowing how long this
conversation would last. I didn’t want to rush Heather, but I was eager to get home because Earl had texted about my grandmother wanting to talk to me. “Should be fun.”
“Nice.” She took a deep breath, making it hard to believe her statement. “You’re going to support Trent Bailey. I’m sure he’ll be shocked and appreciative of you coming out of your shell.”
It’s all for work.
Trent was a long-term friend of mine—an all around good brother, but if I were to be real, the only reason I was going to be a part of the festivities was to be seen.
I think…
“She going?”
I stopped, holding my coat in the air at the closet. Something in my chest tightened at the whisper of her words. They felt…dirty…scandal-like. She. Her. Wynter. My fake legal wife.
I hadn’t really kicked it with her since the morning I went ape between her tight thighs in my studio. That was three days ago, and it bothered me that I missed our conversations. These few days without our late-night chats were cold to me. I hated that I…felt something about not talking to her. Since when did I give a damn about talking privately to my fake wife?
Fake, but legal wife…
I shook off the thought right away. Bible class tonight was the first time my mind wasn’t clouded with trying to figure this out. I reached for a wooden hanger and arranged my coat on it.
“Uh… Yeah. That’s the purpose. Right?” That question wasn’t for Heather.
“So, y’all get two suites when you have to travel together?” her tone was soft.
I didn’t know how to answer that one. When I had the arrangements made a week ago, I requested one suite. Wynter and I could now share a bed. Well, actually. Very well. But that was before I spazzed the hell out on her. I still didn’t know what made me take it there with her. It was like I had no damn restraint. When I saw her in my studio, her face was tight and lips still swollen from just having woken up. She wore a robe, which meant I knew what was underneath. Everything about her screamed of the intimacy we’d built on the low. And I was tired that morning, exhausted. I took a trip from reality and stepped into savage land.
