The Deviant

by Tiana Laveen

  “Fuck, baby. Yes… damn… shit… shit! You’re driving me crazy… That feels so good. Keep goin’… keep goin’.”

  “Oh, I plan to, baby.” She sucked him harder and faster, working her hands up and down that big, monstrous shaft.

  Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he forced her down into his sharp thrusts. He pumped his hips wildly, fucking her mouth with due diligence. His guttural groans turned her on and much to her surprise, her pussy wept from the mere sounds he made. King’s chest rose and fell, the black jaguar and the Creation of Adam all dancing along his twisting, glistening skin and tightening muscles. With a sharp grunt, he tumbled from her mouth and hoisted her in his arms. She squealed as he dragged her around the bed, their legs getting caught in the sheets.

  She laughed so hard it burned her throat when he beat his chest and roared like King Kong. He was silly. Fun. Smart. Sexy. God indeed had played a cruel joke.

  I am supposed to never see this man again. A part of her, albeit small, hoped the sex would be whack. Perhaps that would be his undoing, making it easier to forget about him. He grabbed one of the condoms, tore the gold wrapper open, and sheathed himself, with Aaliyah’s, ‘One In A Million’ serenading them. Instead of mounting her, or asking her to turn on her stomach, he crept to the side of her, spooning her. She swooned when he lifted her leg high, pressing his forehead against the back of her head, and kissed her scalp.

  “Your hair smells good.”

  “Cheap shit. Suave.”

  “You’re expensive on the inside.”

  She swallowed, feeling his knuckles gently bumping against her ass as he situated himself just so.

  He lunged hard inside her.

  “Shit! Oh, God!” His intrusion stole her breath away.

  He was eerily quiet. Like a thief in the night. Clenched teeth, she reached upward and grabbed the pillow they both lay on as he worked himself all the way inside. His thrusts began slow, gradually building. He wrapped his arm possessively around her waist, pulling her flush to him as he delivered powerful plunges. She cried out when he sank his teeth into her shoulder and bit softly into her flesh.

  “Please don’t stop!” she cried out, her body and voice betraying her. How’d he know? She enjoyed her neck and shoulders being kissed and nibbled… never said a word about it. He slowed down, his thrusts deep and powerful, but evenly paced. As he moved, he belted the lyrics to ‘Feels So Right,’ by Lloyd.

  He knows the words… Jesus.

  “You feel so good in my pussy.”

  “Your pussy is making my dick so happy, baby.” He kissed the back of her neck, and kept on. The motherfucker dropped both hands along her pelvis, rubbing her clit as he danced and grinded to the beat of the music… and she loved it.

  WHO. IN. THE. HELL. HAVE. I. BROUGHT. HOME?

  “Damn it!”

  She screamed when suddenly he yanked her arm, forcing her to roll over onto her back. She laughed as he mounted her, one arm up, knocking her thighs further apart. Aaliyah crooned, ‘Are You That Somebody,’ while he moved frantically, passionately.

  Then, he paused… and winked at her. Her breath hitched.

  “What are you doing?”

  “’Bout to knock your fuckin’ pussy out the frame.”

  “SHIT!” She clawed at his back as he reared back and slammed hard into her over and over. Relentlessly harsh. Violently beautiful. Her body erupted into a nasty, punitive orgasm. Without warning. She was simply gone. She floated in the clouds, her muscles twisted and turned, and her throat burned as she finally was able to release a choppy scream. He cradled her to him, rocking her like a damn baby, but he never let up on her. The bed squeaked loud as he charged so deep inside of her, her spine knew his damn name.

  Cradling his chin in the crevice of her neck, he intertwined their fingers, raising their arms above her head. And then, his big dick wrecked her body. Stretched it. Pain and pleasure. His lovemaking matched his name. She wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles as he rode her hard, needing him to keep on and never cease. She rolled into the pillow as her body jeered hard up and down, towards the headboard. King’s face tightened; groans and erotic moans seeped from his lips. He held her so close, she could barely breath. He knew how to fuck. How to kiss. How to touch her. How to make love. He understood her language. Oh no, how could this be?

  He slammed into her in a series of sharp, fast jabs, balls deep. A gasp whooshed out of him, then their sighs of ecstasy overlapped. Cradling her head, breathing hard, he seized up. Then, everything went still and quiet. A rush of warmth filled her when he came in sharp spurts, sighing loudly and his essence flooding the condom. His body shook against her. She held him, rocked him… instinctively. Just as he’d done for her. After a few seconds, he began to quiet and relax.

  Neither said anything as the music continued to play. After a moment or two, he placed a lazy kiss on her lips, rolled over onto his back, and slipped the condom off. He carefully tied it, then tossed it in a nearby trash basket. She couldn’t believe her eyes, and neither could her swollen pussy when she saw the man reach for another condom. He breathed harshly, casting her a glance or two as he sheathed himself once more.

  “I don’t need much down time. I’m just not like that. I can cum pretty much back to back,” he explained, as if reading her mind.

  “See, God, you are playing with me! We had a deal. I did what you wanted me to do. I stopped screwing these… Oh, shit…” She covered her mouth as her eyes welled with tears of mirth. “Did I say that aloud?”

  “You did.” He laughed lightly.

  “I’m crazy, King, but harmless,” she half-joked.

  “Aren’t we all? Turn on your stomach.”

  She did as he asked, and the tattooed giant crushed her with his weight. Wrapping his hand around her neck, he kept her steady as he guided himself inside. “So perfect, baby… Your pussy is so fucking good. I just love how hot and wet you are.”

  She succumbed to him, letting him take control. With loving this good, it was easy. He reached between her legs and stroked her clit as he slammed into her from behind. His fingers were like instruments, strumming her to precision. She purred when she came, her body hot and covered with sweat. Her eyes stung and she lost all sense of time. Her pussy pulsed and tightened, throbbed and squeezed his dick, her orgasm fluttering throughout her body.

  “You’re making me cum!” he bellowed, and then she felt a rush of warmth. With a shaky hand, he released her and slid back on the mattress.

  She took a deep breath, then rolled over onto her back, her body lying in the opposite direction as his. His legs hung off the side of the bed and he was looking up at the ceiling, his condom covered cock shiny with her juices.

  She took some time to observe him, starting with his long feet—beautiful, veiny. Soft, downy hair covered his legs. His dick bobbed up and down as he breathed, his arm resting across his stomach, and the other at his side. She leaned forward, slid the condom off him and tossed it in the trash. Then she sat there… staring at said dick. He must’ve felt her stare, because when she lifted her head, he was returning her gaze.

  “You want it? You want me to fuck you again, baby? I can… if you want.”

  “Yeah, I want it…” She stroked her arm and looked away from him. “But, you’re, uh, a little much. In a good way. My pussy needs a minute. So, I need a rest.” He nodded in understanding, then went back to staring up at the ceiling. “Are you thirsty, King?”

  “No. I’m okay.” The mood felt a bit somber, as if neither was certain what to say or do.

  “I’ll be right back.” He nodded once again.

  She got up and made her way to the bathroom. Closing the door, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Who am I even?

  “Your name is Suri, right?” She pursed her lips. “Yeah, that’s you. You fucked up. You know that, right?” She began to wash her hands and face. “This has been a really strange night…” She made the water hotter, then grabbed her w
ash cloth and proceeded to wash her body. She winced when she ran the warm cloth against her vagina. He really wore my ass out. She smiled nevertheless. I don’t regret shit. It was good! He was good… He was amazing. In every way. Her smile slowly faded.

  I really like him.

  SHIT.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Damn

  The room smelled of lust, shambolic energy, and strong incense. King sat up in Suri’s bed, the thick duvet cover now partially wrapped around his legs. He raked a hand through his hair, brushing a few strands off his face, then stretched and yawned. When he checked the clock on her small nightstand, he was alarmed that it was almost 4:30 in the morning.

  Where did I put my watch? Must’ve left it in the living room.

  It didn’t seem as if he’d been with her that long. He took a moment to admire how Suri had utilized the small space of her bedroom, making it look posh and elegant, yet comfortable at the same time. It was getting a little cold, so he slipped further under the sheets and waited for her, enjoying the tune of ‘Birthday,’ by Disclosure, Kehlani & Syd. When she finally returned, he was once again captivated by her beauty. He also noticed a small scar along her left collar bone.

  Her skin was a rich hue with a smattering of freckles so subtle, most wouldn’t notice. A tattoo of the words ‘Love Infinity’ adorned her right ankle. He also recalled the few dimples on her ass—so sexy and adorable. Her breasts weren’t Hollywood perfect, but they were perfect to him. They were large for her frame, but the dark nipples didn’t stick straight out; they looked like gorgeous teardrops. Though in great shape, she had a slight pudge around her tummy, and he found her all the more feminine and real for it.

  She’s not had any surgeries. No butt fillers, injections, none of that. I can tell she tries to take care of herself. She’s just… stunning. Her natural scent was alluring, intoxicating. From the sweet headiness of the essence between her thighs to the curve of her neck and the taste of her kiss. He was enamored with her. And it worried him.

  “Hey, I changed my mind. Can I get that water?”

  “Yeah. Go on and get the bottle you left in the living room.” He burst out laughing and got up. “That’s right, lazy ass,” she teased as she fiddled with something in one of her drawers. “And grab mine, too, while you’re at it.” She hit him on the ass before he got away.

  “Damn. It’s tough being a king around here. Yes, ma’am.” He chortled.

  He went into the living room and grabbed the bottles, then put them back down to take a good look around. He noticed a framed older photo of a girl who resembled Suri, just much younger, with a woman who favored how she looked now. Her aunt? Perhaps her mother?

  It really is a nice setup in here. I like how it looks. Smells. She has a talent for this sort of thing. And a gift for giving some primo top, too. Treated my shit like a crawfish. He chuckled to himself as he stroked his beard. She’s… She’s all right. Not bad. Our convo was dope. I dig her. She’s tight. She seems smart, too. The sex was… shit, I mean, it was nothin’ short of incredible. Definitely memorable. She’s so fucking pretty, inside and out. I could look at her all day and never get tired. Her body is absurd. Just beautiful. Yeah, this is kind of fucked up. I like this chick. I. guess tonight ended up not so bad after all. It definitely made up for what happened in the art store and that shit that happened at the train. Got some money, got to see my boys, had some bomb ass sex. I’ve got nothing to complain about.

  King made his way back to the bedroom, bottles in hand, then handed her one.

  “Wait. That’s mine. This one has lipstick on it,” he said, and they switched.

  He got back into bed, lying close to her, their arms and legs touching. The music played on low volume. She must’ve turned it down. She’d even lit a candle. He rested his head against the headboard, vibing to Robert Glasper’s, ‘Better Than I Imagined ft. H.E.R. & Meshell Ndegeocello.

  “Did you put this playlist together or is it just random?” he asked, taking a big gulp of water.

  “I put it together.”

  “We have the same exact taste in music.”

  “I like classical jazz and orchestra, too.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I like fusion jazz and elevator music.”

  “I love all of that, and more.”

  “You must be a proud weirdo then. Like me.” She played with her cuticles, running her thumb along them.

  “I am…”

  They lay there, side by side, looking at the open bedroom door as if a movie were playing that only they could see. Seconds passed, moving far too fast.

  “Jail?” she asked, a smirk on her gorgeous face.

  “Nope.”

  “Kids?”

  “I have none. You?”

  “No.”

  “What is art to you?” he probed.

  “You.”

  He rubbed his hands together, his heart beating a tad faster.

  “Don’t fall for me,” he warned.

  “I’m not.”

  “I wasn’t talking to you…”

  She gave a loud sigh, and now he regretted uttering those words. After some silence, she leaned closer and kissed his cheek.

  “Art to you is?” She threw the question back his way.

  “Art is what could be. It’s the world I wish we had. The world is so fucked up, Suri. People are animals. Actually, that’s an insult to animals. We’re fuckin’ disgusting beasts, freaks of nature in the worst way. We’re what’s underneath the rock, not the sun and rain that shines and beats on top of it.”

  “You hate your own?” she asked sarcastically.

  “I’d eat my own if I could. Since I can’t, humans taste funny,” he teased, making her laugh. “I kill the bad shit with my pencils and brushes.” She nodded in understanding.

  “You think you can show up to a gun battle with a paintbrush?”

  “Yeah. I did yesterday on the subway. Had a bag of ’em. Didn’t need to use any, not even one. But it was there, just in case.” She gave him a curious look then burst out laughing. She clearly didn’t understand, probably thought he was kidding, but he didn’t feel like going through the details of what had happened on the subway with Shane. In fact, bits and pieces of the incident were already fading.

  “Art is…” She prodded him to continue his original train of thought.

  “Art is all the good shit, Suri, without the ugliness. Even the art that shows the shit, the malice is the best part of mankind. Art is the nemesis of evil. It’s the equalizer. The great revealer. The tormenter and the rescuer. Art is God. God doesn’t live here anymore.” He looked down at his fingers, all of them covered in beautiful black ink designs of suns, moons, stars, religious symbols from around the world… peace. I got these when I still believed in redemption. “I use paint to try and unearth Him. Art is the map to find our way back home.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “Crazy. Sexy. Cool. Like TLC. I loved them when I was a little girl, King. My mother told me their songs were too grown for me to be listening to. Have you ever surfed in California?”

  He chuckled lazily at her words. “Your brain is like a firefly, Suri. You’re twisted and all over the place, and yet, at the same time, so organized. I just fucked a nut. And I like that she’s irrational.” They burst out laughing, mirroring each other’s expression. “You have mental ADHD.”

  “That’s an oxymoron. I hate when people say oxymorons.”

  “What did I say that was an oxymoron?”

  “The word ‘mental,’ paired with ADHD, is an oxymoron. It’s like saying someone looks good in denim blue jeans. ADHD is in fact a mental disorder that can cause hyperactivity and aid in lack of impulse control. I do in fact have some hyperactivity at times, but my impulse control is fine.” She waved her hand lazily about. “I like to jump from subject to subject because it’s entertaining. I do it when it suits me, but I don’t do it in professional settings. Bringing a st
ranger to my home and fuckin’ him is not a professional setting. It’s a choice that I made.”

  “See? Impulse control,” he chided, trying to get her going. Instead, she sucked her teeth, then chuckled. “A thirty-two-year-old woman whose thoughts jump around like a fuckin’ kangaroo. You’re insane.” He laughed. “Your potential for drama still very much on the table, too.”

  “Kiss my ass.” She giggled, tossing her head back. Hair all over her head. Looking like love, light, darkness and streams of molten ebony gold.

  “No wonder people like you are single. Shit.” He shook his head. “And you’re clever, too. The total nutty ass package. Have a good ear and eye, on top of it. You’re dope as fuck.”

  “Thank you, and fuck you. I added the fuck you as a layaway.”

  “Layaway, huh?”

  “Yeah, because I know you’re about to insult me again and I don’t have the money or the strength to drag your ass right now, but, I promise to retaliate later.” She smiled big and wide as she looked up at the ceiling. He snuck a peek at her exposed breasts, wanting to suck on them again, but resisted. For now.

  “There’s always a catch with chicks like you. Yeah… definitely fuckin’ psycho. Deadass,” he teased, trying to take another sip of water without laughing.

  “See?! There’s the insult!” She banged him upside the head with a pillow. What a beautiful, sad, lovely, rich laugh she had. The whites of her eyes were so damn bright and clear, as though she’d never consumed a drop of alcohol, smoked even a piece of a joint, or danced under the polluted umbrella of the New York City skyline in her whole entire life.

  He inched closer and swallowed her soul in a kiss.

  “You like that, baby?” he murmured as he massaged her breasts.