Page 192 of Invisible Bars
Imanio’s gaze locked on me, sharp, unflinching.
“You ever had sex?”
My voice came out as a hushed whisper, the weight of vulnerability heavy in the air.
“Y-Yes…” My words trailed off, my heart pounding in my chest like a frantic drumbeat. “But just once… well, with one person.”
Imanio’s brows furrowed, a storm gathering in his expression, like he expected me to say he’d be my first. Truth was, I wished he had been—because the guy who took my virginity sure as hell didn’t deserve it.
“Who’s the nigga?” he pressed, voice hard. “And when?”
I swallowed, fumbling with my fingers. “Back when I was modeling. Nothing t-too serious.”
His head tilted, eyes narrowing. “So let me get this straight—you haven’t been fucked in over three years?”
“No.”
He leaned closer, lips curving into something dark and wicked.
“Good. That means I get to break you in properly; it’ll be like your first time for real. I’ll fuck the memory of that nigga clean out of you and replace it with mine. That nigga just borrowed you; I’m ’bout to own it.”
Suddenly, a tic caught me off guard, my body jerking involuntarily, small but sharp, as if a live wire had been triggered.
“Can’t ride what you ain’t never mounted—holy hamster! I’m sorry!”
The words spilled from my lips before I could rein in my outburst, leaving me mortified. My cheeks flamed a deepcrimson, the heat radiating as I looked away, embarrassment clawing at me. But Imanio was undeterred. He gently but firmly caught my chin, tilting my face back toward his, grounding me with his steady gaze.
“As of today,” he declared, steady as a vow, “I don’t want to hear you apologizing for being you ever again… not to me, at least.”
Something inside of me loosened—a soft release.
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
Imanio turned off the water, then reached for my hand.
“Come with me,” he instructed, lowly.
I followed without question, heart pounding loud enough to drown out every other sound.
When we stepped into the bedroom, Imanio grabbed a towel and dried me off—slow, steady, almost too gentle for a man like him. Then he laid me down on the edge of the bed—not rushing, not climbing on top of me.
Not yet.
Imanio just stood there for a moment, towering and still, eyes tracing the rise and fall of my chest like he was giving me space to breathe... or deciding what part of me to unravel first.
And then—he knelt.
Slow and certain, his hands parted my thighs. A soft kiss… then another; each one closer, warmer, and more purposeful. A sound slipped from me—half moan, half gasp—and my leg twitched.
“Please don’t sneeze on my pussy—ha! Dammit!”
I covered my face. I didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t help it. Imanio hadn’t even touched me where I needed him most, and I was already coming undone beneath the weight of his restraint.
“Baby,” he called out to me, gripping my thighs tighter. “Look at me.”
I peeked between my fingers.
“Relax,” he said, the word low—commanding but wrapped in care. Then he buried his mouth in me.
