Her hands pushed at me weakly after a minute, too sensitive now, and that’s when I finally eased back.
I sat up slowly, dragging my hand across my mouth, looking down at her lying out on the couch, chest rising and falling, legs still open, completely spent.
That’s what I wanted. I leaned back, my eyes dragging over her, taking it all in. My sweats were tight as hell, but I ain’t even touch myself.
This wasn’t about me.
“Still think you ain’t mine?” I asked, my voice rough.
She ain’t answer right away. Just lay there, trying to breathe, her hand coming up over her face.
I smirked, then reached out, sliding my hand slowly up her leg.
“Yeah… you needed that shit.”
Her hand dropped, and she looked at me, something different in her eyes now. That attitude, that little game she’d been playing?
That shit was fading.
“You didn’t have to…” she began.
“Yeah,” I cut her off. “I did.”
My hand stilled on her leg, my eyes locked on hers.
“So, you understand.”
She hesitated for a second, then, “…Okay.”
My head tilted. “Okay, what?”
She swallowed, voice lower now.
“Okay, I’m yours.”
I nodded slowly, satisfaction settling deep in my chest. “That's what I thought.”
She sat up slowly, wincing a little, and reached for her shorts. I watched her pull them back on and watched her hands shake just slightly.
Yeah. She wasn't gonna play hard to get anymore.
And I was just getting started.
I stayed on the couch,staring at Kyrie like I didn’t recognize him for a second. Whatever the hell just happened between us, yeah, I wasn’t expecting that. My heart was still beating fast, my chest rising and falling like I had run laps, and I hated that my body hadn’t caught up yet. Like it was still stuck on him.
I swallowed, shifting slightly, my thighs pressing together without me even thinking about it. And I wasn’t about to sit here and lie like I didn’t like it. That wasn’t the issue. The problem was how easy it was for him. How my body responded to him. That didn’t sit right with me.
I glanced over at him again, my brows pulling together as I tried to read him. He was sitting there calm as hell, like ain’t nothing just happened.
“You’re always doing the most,” I said, my voice low.
But it didn’t turn out the way I wanted. It was sharp, but it wasn’t annoyed. If anything, it sounded a little off.
He let out a small chuckle, turning his head slightly toward me. “How am I always doing the most?”
“Because you ain’t have to do all that,” I replied, folding my arms like that was supposed to help me stand on it.
He leaned back with a smirk playing on his mouth. “But you needed it,” he said. “And you said it was mine, right?”
