Black Queen, Dark Knight II: A Bad Boy Romance (Black Queen Dark Knight Book 2)

by Amarie Avant

  “Fuck your pussy,” he says lustfully. “Do not come, Mikayla.”

  “Nooooooo,” I moan. “I want you to do it.”

  Our eyes meet. His are intoxicatingly sexy instead of his usual dangerous glower. I almost die. I have to please him. I just have to. My hand closes over my taut breast, tweaking my nipple until it hurts bad. I almost wish he was back on my ass, biting me. At least that was some action, that was him touching me. When he’s not touching me, I’m drowning.

  My hand trails down my stomach, and it’s pure torture. It’s beyond a mental fuck to make me play over my heated skin, moaning instead of whimpering. His gaze sears the back of my hand the entire time. Past the coils of my pussy, my mouth tenses. I’m a greedy kid not allowed eat her sweets.

  “Don’t come,” he orders. With more sensitivity now, he says, “Stop frowning; it pleases me to watch you.”

  “I’m not frowning.” I all but grit out then force a smile.

  “When you have immensely pleased me, you will be told to come.”

  The instant my finger blazes across my clit, I arch my back more. Biting my lip, I love the feeling of him staring at me. His front row seat to me fingering myself. Suddenly, contentment washes over me, and I get into character. Talk, Kayla, that will help you stay on his good side and not come. I give myself a game plan when a tornado of desire has started to build in me.

  “I’m so fucking wet for you, Jagger.” I groan. Sheesh. The talk only makes me ready to cross over again. Focus, Mikayla, focus.

  For a little while, I find a happy place, stroking my clit, without worrying about a blinding orgasm.

  Then Jagger’s deep voice tantalizes me. “Spread your lips wide.”

  My fingers tremble over my labia then push the swollen outer folds aside.

  “Sweet pink Malva,” he murmurs. “Dip your finger inside. Show me how wet you are.”

  My middle finger fills me up, soothing some of the ache away. It’s not enough. I find a small shred of solace by filling my void with two fingers. I slide them in and out.

  “Show me.”

  I hold up my sopping, wet desire.

  He licks it like a dog. “Not wet enough.”

  Returning to the task at hand, I screw myself, moaning, hips gyrating at the edge of the bed, praying for his lips or his cock to fill me, for his cum to wash over my insides.

  Jagger’s hard voice growls over my skin. “Don’t you dare cum.”

  My eyes widen. It’s too late. My essence flows. Unable to stop myself, I work my fingers harder and harder, grunting his name. He grabs my wrist and pulls my hand away. His hand flogs my pussy, one swat. Fire burns across my nether regions, yet my orgasm amplifies.

  “Jagger!” I cry.

  Jagger leans up, pressing his hand against my cheek. “I told you not yet, Kayla.”

  He rubs at the tears sliding down my cheek.

  “Listen to me. The next time you cum, it will be beautiful and at my command.”

  Fire burns across my sex lips. He massages it away with the head of his cock. His massive member sops up all my wetness. His crown slaps against my clit, sending my nerve endings begging for more. His silky, hard member roams over the achy outer folds again, then he leans back on his hunches.

  “Again.”

  My teeth grit. I’m too afraid to complain. I close my eyes, begin to screw myself, and beg for time to turn back, for us to have never broken apart. Because Jagger is all that I’ll ever hunger for.

  4

  Jagger

  I swat those cute, little fat lips of Mikayla’s a couple more times. My beautiful dream girl can’t stop cumming, and my cock continues to growl, waiting for action. The way her pussy is opened and is splayed out for me keeps my cock leaking precum. I grab the back of Mikayla’s neck, position her beneath me, and slam my cock into her with one hard thrust. My eyes roll back.

  “I’ve missed this tight cunt,” I growl into her ear. Her pussy instantly convulses on my manhood, begging for my cum to bathe her insides.

  “Jagger,” she moans.

  “You can’t stop cumming, girl, can you?” I shake my head.

  Mikayla grabs my ass with both her hands. “No . . . no . . .”

  “Don’t worry, you’re hardheaded. I’ve got something else in mind for you.” I grip my hand on the headboard, slamming deep into her with each thrust. The force of my movements crashes my cock into her sopping wet core.

  “Ohhhhh, shit!” she screams.

  “You like that don’t you, Kayla?” I bite my lip. She squeals in excitement, responding to the rough strokes. Gripping her leg over my shoulder, I give the back of her calf a little kiss. It’s time to toy with her more. My thumb strums over her clit. “Don’t you think about cumming, Kayla!”

  In and out, I slam into her with each thrust, and in seconds, the force sends her coming all over my cock.

  Giving a dizzy little chuckle, Mikayla says, “You made me come, Jagger.” She pouts. “I can’t help it.”

  I sit back on my calves, my cock sticking straight up like a tower. I fold my arms. “No excuses, on your knees.”

  She sits up, her tits bouncing with each movement. She sloshes a little as she moves like she’s drunk, and she hardly finished her first pint at dinner. Mikayla stifles a giggle, gliding over onto her hands and knees.

  “Oh, you’re enjoying this?”

  She stifles her laughter this time. “No, this is punishment.”

  “It will be soon.”

  This time she turns her head, fear masking the euphoria riding through her curvy frame. I grin, pushing a few strands of my long hair from my face. I whistle for her to return to the proper position.

  “What did you do wrong?”

  In a cynical mumble, Mikayla says, “I came. Which I . . . I believe is the objective of—”

  My hand slams against her ass cheek, sending her fingers clawing into the linen.

  “Jag,” she gasps.

  That spot, which is chocolate brown with a faint undertone of red, becomes my target. Another swat hits at ground zero, sending her back sagging so magnificently that her pussy lips are momentarily in pristine view between her ass cakes—thick gorgeous folds that show for a mere second. Fuck. I need a camera. To create such magnificence a second time would be a dream come true, but the image is imbedded in my memory. I massage at the pain I’ve inflicted only to slam my hand harshly down again.

  “Sh-shit!”

  “I told you that you’d scream until your lungs got raw, Kayla.” Should’ve been you begging for my cock, but you’re hardheaded. I rub tenderly, the heat of her round ass against my palm. “You’re so sweet and innocent. You cum so easy.”

  The small of her back caves in, legs wobbly. She won’t make it much longer.

  Encouragingly, I kiss the spot that’s absorbed the most pain. My lips delight in her beautiful brown skin. “Uthando, I need you to hold steady. All those hips and thighs, sweetheart, use them.”

  Whimpering, Mikayla returns to an adequate position.

  “You ready to obey?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  “Let me know just how much you want my cock right here.” I push her ass cheeks open, find her swollen lips right below, and move my fingertips over them. “Tell me how much you want it.”

  “Ooooo, Jag.” She licks her lips. “I want your cock inside of me please.”

  “Can you take seven more swats? Only seven, baby, because this time you’ll cum when I say so, right?”

  She glances over her shoulder at me in desperation.

  I grip at her ass cheek again. “You can do it, beautiful. All this beautiful ass. You can do it.”

  Whimpering, she nods.

  The first flog sends Mikayla’s back dipping again. I warn her that I’m unable to proceed until she’s in the proper position. Swats two through four she takes with pride. I press my loins against her ass and reach until my fingers are splayed across Mikayla’s neck. She rises from her hands, her back pressed
to my chest, delighting in a rough kiss as payment for being such a good girl. She returns to all fours.

  By the fifth one, Mikayla bites back her tears. Her screams are that perfect pitch. Exactly what was promised.

  Raw.

  Satisfactory.

  As delicious as it would sound when she’s sucked my cock for a long time, the head banging against her tonsils.

  On the sixth hit, I show her not a single ounce of mercy, not even rubbing away the pain of the previous one before doing so.

  “Last one.”

  “I can do this,” she utters, voice throaty. She looks over her shoulder, and her eyes glitter. She smiles at me.

  “No sagging, Mikayla. Be beautiful, be strong, be the queen that you are, uthando.”

  Mikayla maintains a picturesque position. Her asshole puckered, I lean down and put my lips on it, giving it a little kiss for being so damn beautiful. I place my hand on her pretty brown ass cheek, give it a massage, and lift my hand. Her breath hitches.

  This is the one she’s been waiting for. She understands now that what I say goes.

  I swat my cock against her ass.

  “Jag,” Mikayla groans, giving a nervous giggle. “Don’t play with me.”

  “Alright, you asked for it.” I grin.

  Her eyes are closed now. There’s a conviction in the frame of her body, which reminds me of a lioness, poised, ready. She needs this pain. I grip both of her hips and slam my cock inside of her to the sound of a sharp, “Yesss, Jagger, yes!”

  Just as my apex meets the end of her thick, slick valley, I slam my hand onto her ass. The hit is enough to rattle her bones, sending her back bucking like a horse. My eyes roll back, balls slamming against her thighs. I’ve never been so deep.

  Harder and harder, I fuck her with deliberate abandon until salty tears stream down her soft, innocent cheeks. Her voice has surpassed raw as she comes on my cock. Gripping the headboard, Mikayla matches each thrust, and now, she can no longer speak, can no longer hold herself steady. If she thought her legs and arms would cave before, there’s no way she can sustain this. I am so attuned to her body that I feel it the second her limbs giveaway. My cock is still a massive beast, still hungry for her. But I stop, gripping below her belly, and help lay her down while kissing the small of her back.

  The boom of my heart inside my chest is the only sound I hear. She’s breathing softly. A beautiful dew is sprinkled over her satiny chocolate skin.

  I lay down on the bed, pulling her on top of me.

  “Jag, baby, I can’t . . .” She licks her lips.

  “But I miss you.”

  “Hurts.” She places her hand over her mound.

  I move her hand, putting mine there, feeling the pulsation, feeling the rush.

  “I’ve missed you, Kayla.” With her breasts spilling down before me, I lick each Hershey nipple. “You’ve done well, uthando. You know I can’t hurt you.”

  “Oh, so what was that?” She positions herself on top of me, her pain parting ways, because she’s so damn hardheaded. Mikayla slaps at my biceps. “If I can’t walk tomorrow, then I’m going to—”

  I clasp her throat, squeeze it ever so softly, and taste the contentment on her lips. “This time we come together, Kayla.”

  Her eyes meet mine. The defiance washes away for desire.

  “Okay, baby.” She screws down on me, slow, deliberate. That wet cunt of hers miraculously transforms into a second mouth, tasting the curves and veins of my cock as it glides over my hardness.

  Now, I’m gritting and begging. “You are so wet . . . how the fuck are you so wet.”

  Her sweet face brightens into a smile, tiny hands sliding across my abdominals and muscles. “I like this.”

  No matter how much I fuck her, Mikayla and those soft cheeks of hers takes on this virtuousness. A captivating innocence—and she’s riding my cock. It’s making my toes curl, ready to explode. But like I said before, I’ve missed her. Hands gliding over her hips to the small of her back, I guide her down to the bed.

  Mikayla trembles with anticipation beneath me. Her eyes close in ecstasy as I fill her all the way up. Sucking on her left nipple, I slide in and out. This time no pain, no hard thrusts.

  “Shit . . .” she groans again.

  Mikayla cries out in passion when my shaft dominates her gently. My hand tightens around her waist, thrusts becoming commanding, but not too hard, as I gage just when Mikayla will burst. Her groans become music to my ears. When Mikayla releases all her pent-up lust around my cock, coming violently, my grip on her hips tighten, and I passionately pound until I stiffen inside her, filling her pussy with my hot seed.

  Her curvy body crashes into mine. I wrap my biceps around her, allowing her heartbeat to dwindle to a normal rate.

  “Thank you,” she murmurs into my chest. “I needed that. All of that.”

  Twenty minutes later, Mikayla is vulnerable while lying in my arms after we’ve cleaned up. Burrowing her face into my bicep while I spoon her, she sighs. “I’m so sleepy.”

  I stroke her cheek with my thumb. “That’s why I fucked you, Kayla. Not to hurt you, just so you could get some good sleep.”

  Her body tremors in a heavy, comfortable chuckle. She groans. “Yeah, I think I threatened you awhile back for the pain, so tomorrow, my threat still stands. Nevertheless, I’ve missed you so much.”

  I stare down at her forehead, realizing that the man that laid with Mikayla the first night in Las Vegas isn’t the same man who’s here now. I’d handcuffed her, and she’d cried in her sleep. And I’d started to think about my parents for the first time in ages. She’s turning us into those people, not the religious fanatics who went on a mission to Africa to convert the people to Christianity, but the other stuff my parents did. The stuff I never understood.

  For a moment, I’m one of those people. One who loves another human being above himself, above the thrill of taking a life. For a few minutes, she talks about listening to Nivean townspeople, and how it’s like a daytime judge’s show when conducting townhall meetings. Slowly, Mikayla falls asleep in my arms. I hold her closely, determined that she’d always be mine, determined that I’m content with a select few of my parents’ characteristics.

  5

  Jagger

  The hotel room is dark. My cock throbs against my leg. I fucked Mikayla so hard tonight that I could hibernate the entire winter now, but with my face planted on the side of the mattress, I felt the glare from my silenced iPhone on the nightstand across from me. Grumbling, I make all kinds of curses about who’s dead to me for interrupting my first night back with my woman as I pick it up.

  TRICK: You up?

  Shoving my hair from my face, I text back a resounding “NO.” He responds with a single word that leaves me hissing and quietly moving out of the bed. So much for holding Mikayla all night long.

  JAGGER: Last time I left Mikayla in a hotel room, she was taken from me. Can you ensure her safety with your life?

  TRICK: Most def, mate. I’ll be up there with an adequate solution shortly.

  I’ve slipped into jeans, boots, and a thermal. I put my two magnums in the back of my belt and pull on a leather jacket.

  JAGGER: Just my two friends or . . .

  I bite my lip, waiting for him to respond.

  TRICK: Don’t be a cunt, Juggernaut. I’m the only mate you need. Bring a knife.

  I chuckle. Fucking idiot. He wants to complete an assignment with knives. Of course, Trick has the training to do as much. However, when he showed Mikayla his cellphone this morning, he had taken the same mark I had been considering.

  Great minds think alike.

  The rules were simple enough. But there’s no way in hell Trick is going to murder a man from over one hundred feet away, per the X-member profile request, with a knife. I start to open up my luggage to grab a rifle but decide to forget it.

  He took the gig.

  He fails that’s his ass.

  Literally.

  I remove m
y two—pre-Mikayla—best friends from my belt and place them back into their locked compartments.

  At 1:12 a.m., I leave Mikayla almost twenty notes. One on the pillow, the nightstand, the bathroom mirror, a few scattered across the floor on the way to the door, and an even larger note on the door. All of which warn her to stay put until I return. Trick lines the bottom, middle, and top of the door with a clear wire and connects it to a bomb set to project toward the hallway if anyone attempts to enter while we were gone.

  Bad idea? Maybe. No man was going to enter while I was gone.

  It’s now a quarter to two, Trick and I are cruising the streets. He’s driving and texting while smoking a cigarette and alternating that with a British candy called, Sherbet Fountain. He dips a black licorice stick into the white, powdery mess then chews on it.

  “Want me to drive?”

  “No. This ride floats for nobody but me. Literally. You know the drill.”

  I chuckled, recalling how Trick provided me with the codes to tweak my ride. I had always had a hard-on for a nice car, tinkering under an engine gave me life. But all the system upgrades and programing my cars to drive for only Mikayla or myself came from Trick. He taught me a few codes, and it was smooth sailing from there.

  “The heads at X Member still treating you like Cinderella since that kill-head was lifted?” Trick asked, making small talk.

  The kill-head, which is a “free for all” contract on a member by other members, was placed on me for not completing my mission with Mikayla. When Mikayla was taken from me in Las Vegas, due to a childish vendetta from a fellow hitwoman, Ava Sinclair, I had every hitman on payroll in the States on my ass. Trick helped me out.

  “The gigs aren’t swimming in, but I was told Ava’s misuse of the system mollified the top dogs. She wasn’t the only one who abused the database.”

  Trick winks. “I’m like Saint Nick when I do it. Handing out dangerous missions, not siccing blokes on someone just because we fucked. I’d let you borrow a few of my marks, but you aren’t quite on my level, Juggernaut.”

  I shake my head. “Oh yeah? Come talk to me after you kill a man via knife from over a hundred yards away.”