Page 45 of Make Me Your Hitta

“Adonis,” she greeted me. “Come in.”

“You were amazing tonight, Xenobia,” I said with a smile, watching her hand move about her canvas. “I spoke to your father. You were right to talk to him. He’s given his blessing for us to be together.”

She laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “And what if I want you to be my husband?”

My heart stopped for a second. “Xenobia, I… Will you… would you marry me?”

Her eyes widened, then narrowed. “Really, Donny? That’s the best you can do?”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “Alright, Nobi. I’ll do better. Ring and all, but… is that a yes?”

She smiled then, a genuine smile that lit up her whole face. “Yes, you idiot. But I expect a proper proposal. And a big fucking ring.”

I closed the distance between us, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst outta my chest. Xenobia’s eyes lockedonto mine, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. She was beautiful, even with paint smeared across her cheek and that defiant tilt to her chin.

“You drive a nigga crazy, you know that?” I murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. My fingers lingered on her skin, and I felt her shiver of lust pool to my dick.

“Good,” she whispered, her breath warm against my palm. “Someone needs to keep you on your toes.”

I chuckled, low and rough. “Trust me, Nobi, you do that and then some.”

The air between us felt electric, charged with all the things we couldn’t say, but fuck, I wanted to. I wanted to tell her how she consumed my every thought and how I’d do anything for her, but she already knew.

Instead, I leaned in, my lips brushing against her ear. “I want you,” I growled, feeling her pulse quicken beneath my touch. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

Xenobia’s hands fisted in my shirt, pulling me closer. “Then take me,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with need. “I’m yours, Adonis. I’ve always been yours.”

That was all it took. I crushed my mouth to hers, pouring every ounce of longing, every forbidden desire into the kiss. She met me with equal fervor, her body molding against mine like she was made for me. I couldn’t get enough of her. My hands roamed her body, greedy and possessive, yet careful not to grip too tight. Xenobia was tough as nails, but I'd never forgive myself if I left a mark on her skin. I had to be gentle with her for the next nine months.

As we stumbled toward her easel, paint splashed onto us. The cool liquid against my heated skin shocked me, making me growl. Xenobia just laughed, a wild, carefree sound that clenched my heart.

Xenobia purred. “Looks like you’re my new canvas,” she teased, dragging her paint-covered fingers down my chest.

I grabbed her wrist, bringing her hand to my mouth. “Two can play that game, princess,” I murmured, nipping at her fingertips.

We fell into a frenzy of touches and colors, paint smearing across our bodies as I stripped down quickly. The contrast was beautiful—the tenderness in my touch at war with the near-obsessive need to claim Xenobia and mark her as mine.

“Fuck, Xenobia,” I groaned, burying my face in her neck. “You’re everything. You know that?”

She arched against me, her nails digging into my spine. “Show me,” she demanded, her voice breathy but fierce. “Show me I’m yours.”

I growled, bending her over the nearby table, pulling her leggings down, and ripping her lace panties off with them as she braced herself by gripping the edge of the table. I didn’t have time to warm her up, but something told me she was already dripping.

I licked the palm of my hand and stroked my dick. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, woman,” I growled. “You’ll never forget who you belong to.”

“Fuck me,” she begged, her hips already grinding against mine.

I slid in from behind, and we both moaned at the sensation. Her walls were tight. Wet heat surrounded me. It was like coming home after a long exile.

My hips pumped into hers with a mindless need. This pussy was mine. She was mine. My woman. My Xenobia. My womb. My baby. I claimed it all.

Her screams echoed throughout the room, bouncing off the windows and back into my ears. Each one spurred me onward, bucking harder, faster.

“Fuck this pussy, baby.” She squealed with a gasp as her nails dug into the table, letting her orgasm break over us both. She shuddered around me, milking me for every drop.

Panting, I leaned against her, allowing myself a mere second of weakness as I held her close. “I’ve waited my whole fucking life for you.”

She pushed back against my dick, begging me to keep fucking her, but I had another plan. I pulled out to finger fuck her pussy, spreading her wetness around until I found the hole I wanted to claim, slowly working my finger into her tight asshole as she gasped.

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