Page 79 of Tender Offer
His frown meets my grin as I nod to the untouched birthday cake on my nightstand.
Knowing how to ride a horse comes in handy when you’re straddling a man with a third leg.
The burn in my thighs spread over smooth, prominent quads extinguishes at Preston’s mouth on my nipple.
“Fuck me, Puff,” he grits out in a strained voice. His arms surround my waist like vines, his legs in a sprawl to match my pace.
I grin when his right foot twitches. Someone is happy.
“You good, Thumper?” My breathy laugh becomes a yelp at his nip to my collarbone.
We’ve been at it for…I lost track, but I imagine it’s almost noon. I have cake crumbs in my ass, icing smeared over my breasts and booty, and not a single care for the mess we’re making in my bed.
Preston reaches for what’s left of my chocolate ganache cake and pulls off a piece. Neither of us thought to grab a fork before playing with our body parts.
Baked goodness breaches my mouth at the press of his fingers. Preston pulls my mouth to his by the back of my neck, and we trade cake with our tongues. His hands slide down my waist to hold me in place as I grind harder over his length.
With the way he’s hitting my vital organs, it’s a miracle I can chew and ride dick at the same time.
The wave of another orgasm rises to a crescendo that turns into an icy bucket of water when my bedroom door opens and Jewel waltzes in with a smile.
“I got her right here. Oh my fuck!”
“What are you doing?!” I try and fail at pulling up the sheets. Whatever’s not on the floor is under the weight of the man whose penis is still inside of me.
“Ki moun nonm-çála?” a voice asks from the phone.
Whatever color is left in my face fades alongside my dignity.
My mother is on a video call with Jewel, asking about the man in my bed. He’s hard and very much naked.
Jewel snaps out of the shock that naturally comes with catching your aunt in the act. “Mo chagrin, auntie!” Her natural curls spiral over her face as she drops her gaze. “I had an exam yesterday, and I forgot to call. I got my Mawmaw on the phone—”
“Still naked, Jewel,” I hiss.
“Yup! Um.” She thumbs to the living room. “Going.”
“Oh, my word.” I groan into my hands. “Bon fèt, Madison.”
“She wants to see him!” Jewel yells from my living room.
Of course she does.
“My mother would like to meet you. How are you still hard?”
The dick brushing my uterus twitches, and Preston levels me with a stare. “I’m still inside you, Puff. Ask me that question again.”
The cake smeared across his mouth would be funny if my family didn’t have a front-row seat to us fucking.
Six minutes and the fastest duck bath of my life later, we’re on my sofa, facing off with Babet Monroe. Eyes the shade of coffee dart between me and Preston, who’s wearing his suit from last night. A curved brow lifts but dissolves into a poker face of rich cheekbones, full lips, and espresso skin smoothed in shea butter.
“Who are ya people?” she directs at Preston.
He clears his throat with a glance my way and the nerves of a high school boyfriend caught sneaking out the window. “Hello, ma’am. I’m Preston Donnelley. My people”—he blinks, unsure how to answer—“are from Italy and England. Sicily, specifically.”
“Ki çé tô louvraj?”
“She wants to know what you do for work,” I tell him. My mama speaks English just fine but will toss in Creole simply because she can.
