Page 68 of Good As Hell

Sliding out, I slam back. Relishing the click of her teeth. She bites me in response. The sting makes my dick kick. I slam home again, bottoming out in her hot little snatch.

This motherfucking snapdragon grabs me like it doesn’t want to let go. My ass cliches trying to hold back the nut she’s trying to choke out of me.

“Fucck, you taking me so good, Sparrow.” Fucking her deep and long, I bring her leg up high over my arm as I hit her A-spot.

“T-too much. I can’t take it.” She stammers, trying to hold me back, pressing on my abdomen.

“Fuck that.” I growl slow-rolling into that spot. “You can and you will.” Making her take me, I hit the deepest part of her fat ass pussy. The gush of that sweet spot of hers feels like heaven. The muscles spasming as her resistance gives away to bliss is nearly my undoing.

“Come with your man, lil’mama.” I demand fucking her hard now. Damn, I’m close. Tiny nails grip and rake my ass as I pound my pleasure home.

“Has-san.” She cries, her pussy clenching as she creams all over me.

Hot jets of my come bathe her easing my way. So caught up I can’t stop, my hips piston into her again, and again. Stars dance behind my eyes as I put my seed into my pretty little wife.

Rolling to the side, I pull her over me. Our bodies still in engage, I can still feel her spasms as she comes down from her climax.

“You’re amazing, sparrow.” Pressing soft kisses on her forehead, I ease the vibe out of her bottom.

I say the words, I should have before. “You’re an amazing mother. The choice you made for Ayaan was the right one at the time. You didn’t know me then. I broke your trust that nigh though I didn’t know it at the time. You were perfectly within your rights not to trust me then.” Cupping her face, I make her look at me. “I will never betray you, Lyric, in any way. I made vows to you when I made you my wife. I vow now, I will never break them.”

Tears well, in her eyes. She presses her forehead to mine. Her next words slaying me.

“Habibi.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

FOR MY BIGGEST FAN

LYRIC

The sun has been brutal all day. Looking up from my notebook I watch my little on run and stumble on his strong little legs though the water sprinklers and toys place along the garden. His skin glistens with the sunscreen slathered over every inch of his sturdy little body.

High pitch giggles reach me from when I sit and watch him. I dredged up every ounce of energy I have to be here, present with him. Watching him brings me so much joy. I can’t help smiling at his antics.

The weather is warming to where Ayaan can only enjoy himself in the late afternoon, which makes for later bedtimes. We’ve been back almost a month. Things have been good. Almost too good and serene.

Hassan, Ayaan and I have slipped into blissful domesticity. Hassan works for the kingdom all day, coming home in time to either have dinner with us or put Ayaan to bed. Then we bathe and make love until we fall apart in exhausted bliss.

The only thing is — I don’t trust it. I trust him. He’s more than proven himself as well as driving home the point nightly.Still, I don’t want to allow myself to hope we can be happy like this forever. I’m scared to even think there is a possibility of me having a life where I have a soft place to fall or someone other than me or FADE to count on like I’ve had, since I was a seventeen-year-old girl faced with the impossible choice of keeping baby I didn’t want or take a chance that was never going to come my way again.

A figure emerges from the dense thicket of garden wall, almost making me think she’s a mirage. Khadijah.

I sit higher. She must be visiting Amani, who’s come home for a lengthy visit from Sophia University in Japan. It’s wild to think that in these few short months, me and this girl have switched places.

Watching as she nervously approaches, I have to admire the way she deftly dodges the water spray Ayaan’s playing in. She giggles, waving to him. He stops as if spellbound before racing over to her, water clinging from every part of his body.

Before I can call out to stop him, he’s barreling into her legs, his sopping wet curls drenching her skirts.

“Dija.” He giggles, hugging her legs. My ears perk up hearing the nickname he has for her. Since when has my son formed a bond with this woman?

Bending, she ruffles his spiky curls. “Hi, my little guy.” She coos.

What is going on here? Confusion and apprehension slithering down my spine. I’d not thought Khadijah had been back at the palace since the day I saw her hugging Hassan. Obviously, I’m wrong.

Amani has been here off and on. Though through this tumultuous so-called honeymoon phase of our marriage, the family has largely left Hassan, Ayaan and me to our own devices, except for the outreach to the earthquake survivors.

A smile plays across her lips as she disengages from Ayaan, continuing towards me.

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