Page 42 of Cuffed By Your Love
“Lay back. Let me see my meal.”
I slowly parted my legs, my panties already somewhere near hell. The way he was staring at me made me want to apologize to every man who ever thought they had me.
“Damn,” he muttered, licking his lips. “I think you gon’ have the pussy that comes with consequences.”
“And you got that type of dick that ruins weekends.”
We both laughed, dirty, dangerous, and consensually disrespectful. Then he dropped to his knees like a man who knew that prayer was more than words. His tongue met me as if he hadn’t eaten all day, starving for salvation between my thighs.
“Oh my God, Elias?—”
“Nah.” He growled, his beard soaked and his voice muffled. “Call me daddy when I’m feasting.” He sucked, slurped, hummed, and talked shit in between licks. “This mine now. I’m stamping it. Customizing it. You gon’ walk crooked, but you gon’ smile doing it.”
I was gasping, nearly crying, with my grip tight in his waves.
“I’m yours now?” I cocked my brow, breath still catching, trying to sound unbothered while clenching like the Holy Ghostjust walked in. “Daddy,… you eating like I stole something from you.”
He stopped and raised up. “You did, Jonay,” he said, breath hot against my slickness. “You stole my peace the minute you walked in that hospital with all that attitude and ass. Now I’m taking it back, one moan at a time.”
“So you just out here slinging community dick with declarations attached, huh?”
Elias slowly licked his lips, eyes full of hood gospel and gutter promises. “Nah, lil’ baby. My dick got selective citizenship. I don’t do tourist tours; I do takeovers.” He gripped my waist like he was signing a deed. “And I’m setting up permanent residency in this pretty ass pussy right now.”
I blinked. “Not you setting up utilities, too.”
“Damn right,” he said, voice dropping an octave. “Light bill in my name, WiFi on autopay, and I’m mowing the lawn every other fucking Sunday.”
“You really think you him, huh?”
He smirked and leaned in, letting his beard tickle the side of my jaw. “I am him, baby. Him downstairs. Him delivering pressure. Him that’s gon’ have you limp at brunch wit’ ya girls.”
I tried to hit him with a quick clapback but choked on a moan the second he slid his tongue back between my thighs.
“Oh, Elias!”
He continued sucking my clit slowly, slurping like he just clocked out a warehouse job, and my pussy was his favorite flavor of Gatorade.
“Baby, slow down. Why you eating it like you mad at it? Fuck!” I panted, my hips bucking as I struggled to get away from him.
“’Cause I am, Jonay. Mad that no lame before me knew what to do with it. Mad I ain’t had it sooner. Mad it’s mine now, and I gotta make up for lost time.” He pulled back for a second, beardglistening like sin and salvation. “If this pussy was a felony, I’d do the time with a smile.”
“What!” I cackled. “You’re so dumb.”
“I’m deadass, girl.” He growled, smacking my ass once, twice. “Ten to life for this grip? I’d be singing in the prison choir.”
I didn’t even have time to respond before he grabbed a condom off the nightstand, then flipped me over like a ribeye on the grill and slid in from behind.
“Goddd—”
“Nah, mama. Call me Elias,” he commanded, grip tight on my hips.
He was deep. Real deep. He was rearranging grief and regret with every thrust.
“You ever feel this safe before?” he asked, pounding like the rent was due, and I was the deposit.
“N-no.”
“You ever had somebody fuck the fear outta you before?”
