But I did know that the way he looked right now? The way his eyes had become focused on me, he knew he had me.
“Okay,” I said quietly. “But that’s all we’re doing, Kyrie. I’m not trying to overstimulate you.”
“Shawty, overstimulate me?” He laughed. “That shit ain’t gon’ happen. Now, come on, Big Daddy is waiting.”
I shook my head, but my hands were already moving. I climbed out the bed, and I could feel his eyes tracking every movement. The way I hooked my thumbs into my pants, the way I slid them down my hips, and the way I stepped out of them and my underwear.
When I looked back at him, his jaw was tight, and his good hand was gripping the sheets.
“Come here,” he said, not asking.
And I did. I climbed back into the bed, my heart pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. He shifted, adjusting himself so his head was flat against the pillow, and then he looked up at me.
“Come on, ma,” he said. “Don’t make me wait.”
I moved slowly, positioning myself over him, and the whole time, his eyes never left mine.
I lowered myself, and the second I felt his breath against me, warm, close. My whole body tensed.
“Relax,” he said, and his good hand came up to grip my thigh. Firm and grounding. “I got you.”
And then his tongue touched me. The wetness, the heat, and the way he moved slowly at first, as if savoring it, made my breath hitch. My hands flew out, gripping the headboard, and I felt my whole body shiver.
“Kyrie….” His name came out broken.
He didn’t respond. Just gripped my thigh tighter and pulled me down closer. His tongue flattened against my clit, and I gasped. My hips jerked, but he held me in place.
“Stay still, ma,” he murmured against me, and the vibration of his voice made my legs tremble.
But I couldn’t. Not when he was doing that. Not when his tongue was circling, teasing, and applying just enough pressure to make my vision blur.
“Oh, my gosh—” I breathed out, and my head dropped forward.
He groaned, low and deep. And I felt it everywhere. His tongue moved faster and more deliberately. He knew exactly what he was doing. Knew exactly how to make my thighs shake, and he knew exactly when to pull back just enough to make me chase it.
“Kyrie, wait—” I gasped, but he didn’t wait.
He sucked my clit into his mouth, and my whole body went rigid. My grip on the headboard tightened. And my breath came out in short, desperate bursts.
“Fuck—” I whimpered, and I felt him smirk against me.
He was completely in control. Even though he was laid up with a fucked-up arm, he was running this. And he knew it.
His tongue dipped lower, tasting me, and then dragged back up slowly. Like he wanted to draw this out and make me feel every second of it.
My hips started moving on their own. Grinding down against his mouth. Chasing the feeling building low in my stomach.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice muffled but clear enough. “Ride my face, ma. Take what you need.”
And God help me, I did. I moved faster, my breathing ragged, my whole body trembling. His hand slid from my thigh to my ass, gripping me, guiding me, holding me exactly where he wanted me.
His tongue was relentless. Circling. Flicking, sucking. Every time I thought I couldn’t take any more, he’d switch it up, then slow down just enough to make me whimper, then speed up just enough to make me cry out.
“Kyrie… I can’t!” I gasped, my thighs shaking so hard I didn’t know how I was still holding myself up.
“Yes, you can,” he said against me, his voice rough and commanding. “Give it to me.”
And when his tongue pressed flat against my clit and stayed there, firm, unmoving, just letting me grind against it, I broke.
