by Ashley
When he did, August looked down at her then lifted hands, taking a step back to let her by.
“You’re seriously beautiful,” August said, looking down at her. Honor turned to let her body rub against him. She looked him square in the eyes, sliding her hand inside his pocket. She rubbed his dick and to her surprise she was satisfied as it reacted in her hand. Neither cared that there was a section full of people around them.
“You don’t seem like the type,” he said. “But I’m not complaining.”
Honor removed her hand but left the button inside his pocket. “I’m not,” she replied. “I don’t fuck with white boys.” She walked off, leaving his mind blown as she headed out the club. She sent a text to her sisters telling them her part was done and she was headed back to the hotel and then climbed into her black SUV, letting her driver carry her back to her hotel.
* * *
“It’s time to go, sis. We’re out,” Gadget stated as she gathered her belongings.
“I’ve got to pee. You can head out. I’m five minutes behind you.”
Gadget nodded, kissed Ashton’s cheek, and then the sisters went their separate ways. Ashton headed for the restroom, suddenly feeling flushed and hot as nausea pushed vomit up from the back of her throat. She practically ran through the club, only to find the ladies’ room had a line a mile long. She ventured farther down the hallway, searching for a second bathroom. She opened the door at the end to find an office. She entered, closing it behind her, and sighed in relief when she saw the light illuminating from the attached bathroom. She rushed to the private bathroom and tossed up her dinner in chunks. She panted, feeling dizzy as she gripped the countertop. Turning on the water, she rinsed her mouth and then looked in the mirror. She was so disoriented. She turned to exit, but the commotion of a tussle froze her. Ashton pulled the bathroom door, shutting it, only leaving a sliver of space for her to see through.
“Empty the motherfucking safe.”
Ashton’s eyes widened as she watched three masked men walk into the office. They shut the door behind them, flipping the lock, and then one man walked the manager behind his desk.
“We don’t keep cash on hand,” the manager said, his hands raised and trembling.
“You tell me one more lie and it’ll be your last. You keep celebrity jewels and cash in the safe. Open it!”
The manager fumbled as he bent down, pressing a button beneath his desk. The back wall of the room slid open. A hidden safe stood behind it.
“Let’s go! I ain’t got all day.”
The man tapped the gun to the back of the manager’s head until the safe was popped open. The manager made the mistake of tussling with one of the men, grabbing his ski mask and exposing his face. A silenced bullet quickly followed. The manager’s body dropped instantly. Ashton’s hand shot to her mouth and she turned away from the door, her heart beating out of her chest. She had no way to protect herself if they found her. The best she could do was stay quiet. Ashton squeezed her eyes tight.
“Man, empty the safe and fold this motherfucka inside, mane.”
The safe was big enough and Ashton felt bad for whoever came along to open it next.
Ashton was home free until the ringing of her phone erupted through the room.
She fumbled to silence it, but it was too late.
“What the fuck was that? Check the bathroom, mane!”
The door was pushed open and Ashton lifted her hands in defense. “I swear I won’t say shit. Not one word,” Ashton pleaded.
“Bitch, get’cho ass out here!” the man said. Ashton bucked and kneed him between his legs before grabbing the toilet tank cover and swinging it so hard he fell back into the sink.
“What the fuck, nigga? You can’t handle this bitch?” another one shouted. Ashton tossed the toilet cover at the burglar but he dodged it.
“Bitch, I’ll blow your head off,” he said through gritted teeth and aimed the gun in her direction. He snatched her out of the bathroom and put a gun in her back. “If you scream, I’ll blow your pretty ass to hell. Walk.”
He jammed the gun into her lower back so hard that the blow took her breath away. She looked down the hallway toward the commotion of the party. No one noticed as she was led out the back door. Red taillights awaited them from a black BMW parked in the darkened alley.
“Wait! Where are you taking me? Please, I won’t say shit,” she begged. “Just let me go. I have money. I’ll give you whatever you want.”
She had been trained by Miamor, but up against three men she was useless, especially empty-handed. The man grabbed her by the back of her neck and forced her into the trunk of the car.
She stared up at the man, peering into onyx eyes. They were all she could see through the ski mask he wore.
“If you hurt me, my family will haunt you for a thousand years,” she said. She was dead serious. Her Haitian roots were strong. The LaCroix family was known for their ability to seek revenge. They had ruined the Diamond legacy; not with the war, but with the sacrificial ceremony that had been placed over their family after her uncle Matee was killed. If anything happened to Ashton, her people were crossing the Atlantic in boats and they wouldn’t be coming in chains.
He scoffed and froze on her for a beat before slamming the trunk and cloaking her in darkness.
* * *
West loosened his tie as he lifted the crystal tumbler to his full lips. He had never been one for crowds, but it was necessary in his industries. From oil to his sports agency, his attendance was mandatory, but he didn’t prefer it. The limelight. Somehow it preferred him. His good looks attracted the blogs, his hood instincts to say less intrigued the grapevine. They knew nothing personal about him, so the media tended to flock to him whenever he came around. He didn’t mind the business inquires, but the personal ones felt intrusive. This five-star hotel room and the good whiskey in his glass made for a perfect night of solace.
He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged out of it, leaving it at his feet because he had a thing about white shirts. He never wore them more than once. It was in direct contrast to his upbringing when circumstances had forced him to wear the same shirt for days because one was all he had. He didn’t think about those days often.
The knock at his door pulled his eyes to it and he crossed the room. He pulled it open and just like she had hours before, she took his breath away.
“So, I’m going to skip the part about ‘I really never do this’ because you won’t believe it, anyway. The truth is it’s been a long time since I’ve had some dick and you look like you got the type of dick to make me lose my mind a little, so here I am, acting like I have no home training.”
The fact that she didn’t flinch made him want her in ways she could never imagine.
He stood there, staring at her.
“Are you going to invite me in?” she asked, irritation vexing her.
“I need you to understand what I’m about to do to you,” he said.
“I’m a grown woman, I’m pretty sure—”
“You’re not sure and I want you to be sure before you come inside.” He sounded like he was issuing a warning and the serious glower on his face told her she just might want to take heed. He had the disposition like they were negotiating a contract, not pussy, and her instincts to flee erupted. Sutton was too bullheaded to back down, despite her screaming intuition begging her to. She stepped across the threshold and around him, taking his glass out of his hand and sipping the hard liquor as she entered the suite.
“Nice view,” she admired.
“It’s brick and man-made lights; that’s not a view,” West countered.
Sutton turned to him in shock. “What would be considered a view?”
“The Swiss Alps from the Jacuzzi tub in the penthouse suite at hotel Megève,” he answered.
She nodded, impressed. “I’ll have to get there one day. I’ve never been partial to snow.”
“I’ve never been partial to small talk,” he shot back. “There�
�s a nondisclosure I’ll need signed.”
She scoffed. “Excuse me?”
“A letter of consent,” he said. He didn’t even give her the courtesy of looking in her direction. He retrieved his phone from his pocket and his fingers danced on the screen. When she heard the chime of her phone from her handbag she pulled it out in disbelief. A DocuSign file had been AirDropped to her.
“You’re kidding, right?” she asked.
“Not at all,” he replied.
West had no time or room for games. A man of his caliber and with his net worth had to protect himself. He didn’t want there to be any gray area. She was either with it or she could leave. He had a phone full of willing participants if she chose the latter.
“Just protecting us both,” he said. “No offense, but I met you at an industry party. You sign and I’ll make sure you enjoy the rest of your night. You don’t sign and I can call you a car, no hard feelings.”
She peered at him curiously, clearly weighing her options. Sliding her finger across the phone screen she signed the electronic agreement. She typed on her screen. “Since we’re being cautious,” she said.
His phone buzzed and he chuckled as he opened her message.
“My status and my last physical exam,” she said. “I’ll need yours if you think you’re even going to breathe in my direction.”
This felt like more of a business deal, like they were two sharks on two different sides of the table, negotiating the terms of engagement. To the average woman it would have been a turnoff, but Sutton lived for shit like this, for niggas just like this. Bossed up and cocky. Rich and in control. Smart and prepared. The audacity of this man. The frankness. The presumption. It was like he’d known she was going to end up in his bed the moment she stepped foot on that rooftop.
Within moments, the document was at her fingertips. As she looked over the email, he approached her, removing the phone from her hands and tossing it on the bed.
“Now we gon keep playing or you gon let me have my way with it?” West asked.
He grabbed her face with one hand, pinching her jaws in, and smeared her lipstick with his thumb. She was beautiful but her body was rigid, her neck sank like she was holding her breath.
“How long has it been?” he asked.
She pulled her neck back, stunned.
“You’re uncomfortable with touch,” he said, reading her mind. “A woman who’s getting fucked on the regular ain’t this stiff.”
His lips were on her shoulder and moving up her neck. She quivered as he kept talking. “You react to me like you’re dying to cum, desperate for it. I’ma take my time with it.”
Her ears, her neck, her chin—she pulled back before he could get to her lips.
“I don’t kiss,” she whispered, slightly panicking as she placed a guard up, putting her hands on his chest to stop him.
“Tonight, you do everything,” he said, taking her lips anyway, disregarding her rules. His territory. House rules applied. She wanted to protest but somehow, for the first time ever in her life, she gave in to someone else setting the tone. She hadn’t kissed a man ever. Kissing disgusted her. She remembered being kissed as a kid in the most inappropriate ways, by the most inappropriate of men. A young girl, tainted, and misused before she even knew how good kisses could be. She hadn’t kissed a man since, until now. Her body was rigid, but his strong hands took control, one rounding her body and gripping her ass, pulling her into him. She was like a rag doll in his grasp because her limbs felt like noodles. He made her weak. His free hand caressed the side of her face as he devoured her.
Sutton was breathless. Every place he touched came alive and her face wrinkled in pleasure as he pulled her lips and tongue into his mouth, sucking on her like he had been craving her all day. She hadn’t ever felt this aroused. Her panties dewed and her breath hitched as he circled her body, breathing on the back of her neck, pressing into her body, hard dick against her soft ass.
He exposed her slowly, pulling her zipper down and peeling her out of her skintight dress until it lay defeated at her feet.
“Relax,” he said as he reached around her body, finding her clit and trapping it between coarse fingers as he rubbed. He lowered to his knees and opened her from behind, lifting one thigh in his hand until her foot rested on the couch. Her forehead pinched and she drew in air as he pulled her clit in between soft lips.
“Oh my God,” she moaned. She hadn’t even meant to be so vocal. He could tell the words had escaped to her dismay; but once freed, her pleasure was hard to chase down. He dove deeper, nose first, moving his head side to side as he sucked, then lapped at her womanhood with no mercy. He loved pussy—good pussy preferably—and it had been a long time since he had selected a cut this fine. She was freshly waxed and surprisingly tight as he pushed two fingers into her depths. Her back arched as he pumped his hand slowly.
Sutton placed her knees on the couch and reached between her legs, gripping a dick so massive she wondered if she could take it. Still, she guided him toward her wetness. She was nobody’s virgin, but she wasn’t getting knocked down on the regular either. His size alone leveled her, sending her belly into the couch before instinct told her to press pause. That one stroke knocked all common sense from her brain. Toxic dick. That was what this was. The type to make you have a baby just to provide receipts that you took that dick for a stroll a time or two.
“Wait!” She scrambled and turned around, flustered as she mustered every ounce of willpower she had to stop him because, damn, she didn’t really want to stop him at all, and the lack of self-control was a problem. He rubbed the sides of his mouth, taking a step back as she reached for her handbag. Sutton was undone. She couldn’t stop her eyes from lifting to the mountain of a man in front of her. He was so fucking solid—sturdy thighs, definition everywhere—and his hands, God his hands were huge, and he was skilled in using them. She wondered if the hand he was using to rub his beard smelled like her. There was something erotic about leaving her scent there. Her mark. She fumbled with the bag, pulling out everything except what she was looking for. Lipstick, compact, tampons, because with three sisters someone was always starting a surprise period, until finally … a condom. She sighed in relief because she didn’t know if she would have the strength to walk away if she hadn’t located it.
She held it up and he smirked.
“Precautions,” she said.
“Precautions,” he confirmed.
Sutton was almost intimidated by his prowess. He pulled out his phone and pressed a button on his phone. Music streamed out of the Bluetooth speaker.
I likeee when you’re stressed, but I like it when you take your stress out on meeee …
“For when you scream,” he said. Her neck snapped back, shocked at his assumption that she would scream as dvsn filled the room. The soulful music would undoubtedly mask any sounds of pleasure that escaped her.
He didn’t give it a second thought as he backed her up to the bed and then strapped up. Her back hit the cool sheets and he hovered over her, covering her lips with his before she could catch her breath. The taste of tobacco and liquor was masculine and overwhelming and oddly enticing as she did something she never did: kissed him back. It was like the taste of him intoxicated her. Biceps bulged around her head as he balanced on balled fists over her body. The nigga didn’t even knock before entering. He just unlocked her doors and barged in like he owned the shit. Sutton’s back arched so high off the bed that he picked her up.
With one arm wrapped around her back and the other around her throat, his dick was somewhere near China because he was digging through her earth for sure. The bed only gave him more room to explore her wet and he splashed in that shit relentlessly.
She reached out for help, gripping sheets above her head. His hand followed hers, grabbing her hand and intertwining their fingers as he stroked her from behind.
Sutton threw ass back at him like a star pitcher in the bottom of the ninth who was dealing with loaded base
s. She wanted to scream his name, praise him, slap him, fight his ass for hitting it so good, but instead she bit down on her lip as he made up for every inch of mediocre dick she had ever endured in her life. She had never met a man who knew exactly what to do, where to touch, and how hard to beat it. Nothing about him was gentle; he didn’t know her well enough to make love. A whole lot of fucking was going down in the penthouse of the Four Seasons and she couldn’t help but wonder how he would handle a woman he held some affection for.
West gripped her waist with both hands and pulled her back onto him, no running. “Damn.”
The word only boosted her ego. Hearing his enjoyment, her nectar fueling his pleasure, made it even better.
“Agh!” she cried. Her fingers opened and then closed again, pulling the sheets from the mattress. West came up on one foot. Too deep. He was submerged and when he bit the side of her neck, she lifted her chin to the ceiling … praise this nigga.
Bitchhhhh.
It was what she would tell her sisters later.
It was so fucking good. He slapped her ass, gripping it, and then licked the back of her neck. His tongue trailed down the center of her back, making her weak. That tongue was glorious, an extrovert as it made friends with the crack of her, then traveled to her most sensitive spot.
“Turn over,” he ordered.
She rolled over on her back, covering her eyes as he pulled the scream from her depths.
“Nigga!”
He chuckled but he didn’t miss a bite, eating her up, finishing his plate, cleaning it, because it was ungrateful to leave even a morsel of a delicacy untasted.
She came so hard her body shuddered, and he kissed his way up the front of her, appreciating toned abs and tasting dark nipples before letting her enjoy her own flavor on his tongue. For a girl who didn’t kiss, she couldn’t stop kissing him. She moaned as he filled her again, hitting circles in her shit like he was doing donuts on a hot summer day. Hood shit. Hood nigga. He was too cocky to be anything other than that. The suit had fooled her.
“Shit ain’t free,” he said in her ear. “You charging this shit to a nigga soul.” Her eyes popped open. “Your mean ass.”
