Page 39 of The Heart Of A Real Woman
I pulled back with a wet pop. “I’m tryna show you that I don’t want no other nigga but you. I’m showing you that nobody could ever have me the way you got me as long as you do right by me.”
Placing him back inside my mouth, I moaned, the vibration making Moses shudder. I sped up, taking him deeper, gagging just a little but not pulling back. I wanted him to feel all of this. I cupped his balls, massaging them in slow circles while my tongue worked magic up and down his shaft. I could feel his thighs tense, his breaths getting shorter.
I pulled back once more, stroking him with my hands while I licked and kissed along the side of his dick, tongue dragging slowly from the base to the tip, collecting the precum. Then I swallowed him whole, sucking harder, my lips smacking with every pull. This time, I graduated to no fucking hands.
“Fuckkkkk, Mary,” he growled as I spat on his dick and took him deep, my throat tightening around him. “You ‘bout to make me nut, baby.”
That only pushed me to go harder. I sped up my rhythm, moaning around him until I felt him twitch. He tried to pause…to stall his nut. But I kept going. And soon, he snatched out of my mouth and came all over my face.
When we finished, I said,
“You missed that, huh?”
Moses stared down at me, chest rising fast, looking like he was ready to drop to his knees and worship me right the fuck back.
“You already know, baby. Gotdamn.”
Chapter Twelve.
Two days later.
Moses
When we made it back home from our trip, maybe I should’ve been content with the fact that my wife forgave me, took me back, and called off the divorce. That should’ve been enough. But I ain’t never been the type of nigga to settle. I don’t know how to let shit ride. I don’t do peace when something is still burning within me.
So, there I was, right back in that mode. Old habits. Posted in the backseat of Nathan Woods’ Benz, masked up like the million-dollar life I built ain’t mean shit. I knew what I stood to lose if caught, but I didn’t give a fuck. When it came to Mary, reason ain’t got no place. All I saw was red.
I watched him stroll out of his office like the world was his, smiling and waving goodbye to the paralegal as he crossed the lot. As soon as he closed the driver’s door, I raised my gloved hand, and cold steel met the back of his head. The click of the safety made his eyes stretch wide in the mirror, locking on minethrough the ski mask. I had been waiting to touch back down in the city for this exact moment.
“Shit,” his hands immediately flew up in the air. “Take whatever you want. Just don’t kill me. Please.”
“You ain’t got shit I want, bitch ass nigga. Look at the street sign.” I said flatly.
Confusion washed over him. I saw it written all over his face. He was trying to place my voice and figure out why I was even mentioning the sign. But before he could speak again, I gripped his head and slammed his face against the window so he could get a clear view. He breathed heavily, struggling against my strength as blood leaked from his nose.
“Mickaelson Drive. You see that, muthafucka? This my block. Matter fact, this my city. Whole fucking thing. The mayor gave me a key and a day with my name on it…even named a street after me. I took care of Melrose…funding more charities than the city budget touches, and my record label put this bitch on the map.
So, with a smile, he stood next to me in front of them cameras, called me a pillar, a hero. Like I ain’t got bodies buried under these sidewalks. But I do. Plenty. I run these streets. Nothing moves through this bitch without my say-so. I got my hands in just about everything. I could buy your life a hundred times, and my pockets wouldn’t even feel it. So nah, you ain’t got shit I want.”
He squinted as it finally clicked. “Mr. M… Mikaelson?”
“Everything in me screamin’ to paint the inside of this muthafucka red, but I’ma let you live. Only ‘cause I’m the reason to blame for my wife even crossing paths with your bitch ass. But this right here? This your last breath of grace.”
I leaned in.
“Mary is off limits. She mine. Always been mine.Always will be mine.And if you ever reach out to her again tryna change that, I’ll rip your fucking head off and hand deliver it to your grandmother in that little brownstone she raised you in. You feel me?”
The muthafucka couldn’t speak. Just nodded hard, terrified.
“Forget she ever existed. Erase her number, delete her file, clear her from every fucking memory you got. And if you ever see her in the street, you better act like she's a ghost. Understood?”
“Y-yeah… understood, man. Please.”
∞∞∞
“Couldn't get no louder.
We're meant to be, they say we even sound alike.
