Page 51 of Never Want to Love Again

“How was he before me?” Kupid questioned, followed by a giggle.

“Ugh, a madman,” Nisha answered dramatically. I waved her away because she was exaggerating. I was a laid-back ass nigga, and Kupid knew that.

“Let’s make a toast,” Trae said, holding up his glass after wiping his hands on his napkin. “Come on.”

“What are we toasting to, nigga? I queried, holding my glass up.

“To you and Kupid. For finding love. To the successful tour that put money in all of our pockets. To the family,” Trae said, looking around the table. “To the family ‘cause that’s what we are.”

“To everyone that holds me down and makes this shit run smooth,” I added. “To my baby.” I glanced to my left, where Kupid sat. She blushed. “To the family.”

“To the family!” they shouted, our glasses clinking together.

Jania was waiting when we stepped off the tour bus at the venue. I knew it would be bullshit when I wasn’t inviting her as a guest performer since we were in her city, but I meant business when I said I was no longer doing any business with her. I don’t know what was up with Kupid’s ex and Jania, but she called me from an unknown number screaming that I was full of shit and that she should be on tour wit’ me. Ain’t nobody was on tour wit’ me, first of all. I was bringing two upcoming artists on stage tonight before I performed. One thing I can say, I try to put talented niggas on. Niggas that don’t want that street life but still need to feed their families. They had to pull a screaming Jania away, making a fool of herself. A video of her was already floating around social media before we could even enter the venue.

In the dressing room, Kupid made herself a bowl of fruit; then she jumped up on the counter to eat it. Kupid had on a little black skirt that puffed out with a black and red tour shirt tied up in the front. On her feet were black Fendi boots. After making sure the door was locked, I stepped in between her legs. Kupid fed me a grape. Chewing, I pulled my dick out of my shorts. Her eyes lit up. Kupid lifted, allowing me to pull her skirt up. Sliding a hand under her skirt, I pushed her panties to the side.

Kupid grabbed my face and sucked my bottom lip in her mouth. She knew I loved that shit. I pushed inside of Kupid, and she gasped.

“Mmm,” I moaned into her mouth. “Fuck you got me sounding like a bitch. Pussy so warm and wet.”

I began working my hips, moving them in circles, stirring her insides. Kupid opened her legs further apart, allowing me moreaccess to her. Gritting my teeth, I began to pound the fuck out ofmypussy.

“Shit, I love you,” I whispered in her ear after she let go of my lip. “I love the fuck out of you, Kupid.” When I peered up at her, tears were falling from her eyes. I kissed them away. “You better be cryin’ ‘cause this dick good.”

She chuckled, which was followed by a moan after I grabbed her legs up into the crook of my arms and slid her body down while still buried deep. Rubbing her swollen, sensitive bud, I fucked Kupid just like that until she was squirting on my abdomen. We had about thirty minutes before showtime.

“Crown,” she moaned out.

“You love me, baby?” I asked, reaching down and wrapping my hand around Kupid’s neck. She licked her lips as she lustfully stared back at me.

Kupid nodded. “Yes. I love you.”

“Fuck.” My dick twitched as my body began convulsing, causing me to whimper. Just hearing Kupid say that shit back made me cum.

My forehead touched hers, and I stilled while inside of her, both of us trying to catch our breaths.

“We gotta clean up,” she whispered. I nodded, but my eyes closed. “Crown.”

“Hmm?”

“Baby, pull out. We both need to change clothes. I’m a mess, and I was so cute.” Kupid pouted.

Pulling out, I tucked my flaccid dick back in my shorts. “You look cute in anything. We have an extra top, and you have bottoms in the suitcase. You got those cut-up shorts. Rock those.”

I texted Nisha to have a makeup artist on standby for Kupid in twenty minutes, then grabbed Kupid’s hand, taking her to the bathroom attached to the dressing room so we could clean up.

“Miiiiammmii!” I hollered in the mic. My fans screamed. “Y’all really fuck wit’ a nigga, huh?”

Wiping my forehead with a towel, I tossed it into the crowd. Females fought for it.

“Drop the beat, DJ!”

I moved around the stage, rapping and jumping around. My fans screamed my lyrics out, and that shit never got old to me. This life was a dream come true, and now that I have found the woman that was for me, life has become even better.

When the song ended, the beat forQueen of My Heartdropped. I motioned for Kupid to come on stage with me. As she walked, photos that we took together on my phone and some that I had caught her off guard in the Bahamas and the days leading up to today. Kupid covered her mouth as she slowly walked up the steps with AD assisting her.

“You know I have to show the world the queen of my heart. Y’all meet my lady, Kupid Love. Show her some love!”

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