Page 8 of Know Your Place

“I ain’t want her ass,” Beretta said before he leaned down and pecked my lips.

I tried to pull away, but he simply moved his mouth to my neck. “Sure, you did. You’re good for a fuck, and she was definitely goin’.”

Even though they were my words, they made me sick to my stomach. The thought of his irritating ass fucking anyone but me had me on the verge of crashing out.

“I ain’t fuckin’ nobody but you, and you know that.” He sucked on my neck while his hand pinched my nipple.

“So you say,” I muttered as I let my head fall back. He always felt so damn good.

“Aye, man, so now I’m a liar?” he asked as he lifted his head to look at me.

My brow arched, but I didn’t have a slick comeback. He’d told me repeatedly that he wasn’t fucking anyone else, and it wasn’t really so hard to believe, because I wasn’t either. Beretta had me hooked, and no other man would do.

“Why are you here?” I asked instead.

“You know why, Juicy,” he murmured as his large hand cupped my ass before it slid under my thigh. My leg automatically wrapped around his waist, and his dick pressed into my wet center.

“I hate you,” I mumbled as he slipped into me.

“But you love this dick. Say it. Tell me you love daddy’s dick,” he encouraged.

I bit down on my lip hard to refrain from saying anything, but he stroked me to the left a little, just the way I liked, and I cursed. I’d allowed him to get too close. He knew me too well, and it was beyond just sex. In six months, he’d learned my orders at all my favorite restaurants, how I liked my coffee, how to cheer me up when I was cramping and PMSing. He knew how to cuddle me so I didn’t get too hot, and when we weren’t arguing, we really had the best time together. It was too bad neither of us were built for relationships.

“I love this dick,” I finally said after a few seconds of him stroking me just right.

“Nah, that ain’t what I said say. Tell me you love daddy’s dick,” he demanded.

“I love daddy’s dick. Shit, I love daddy’s dick so much.” What could I say? When he was inside of me, I would say whatever the fuck he wanted, and he knew it.

“Good fuckin’ girl.”

I almost melted right down the drain with the warm water cascading over us. My braids were done for, but that was okay. I was due to get them re-done in a few days anyway.

I reached up and grabbed his neck, squeezing slightly and peering into his eyes. “Look at me while you’re in this pussy, Beretta. You know better.”

He chuckled, the vibrations shooting through my hand and straight down to my pussy. “This my pussy?”

“Nope,” I chirped with a grin. His next stroke wiped the grin off my face as my mouth dropped open in an O.

“Then I ain’t lookin’ at you.” He moved my hand out of the way like I had zero strength and kept stroking me. I bit down on my lip so I didn’t beg this nigga to look at me. There was something about seeing his face as he fucked me that turned me on in the worst way. He grinned down at me as if he knew this fun fact. “All you gotta do is say this pussy mine, Juicy.”

His fingers found my right nipple, and he pinched it. My back arched, and he pressed me up against the shower wall. When his fingers found my clit, I lost it. “Shit, Beretta. This your pussy, baby. It’s yours.”

“Yeah? This pretty mothafucka mine, Juicy? All mine?”

“Yes.” I whimpered.

“Look down at my pussy, Juicy. Look at how pretty she is as I move in and out of you. You see that shit?”

Tears accumulated in my eyes because he felt so damn good as I nodded my head. “I see it, daddy.”

“Why you so damn pretty? Huh?”

“I-I don’t know . . . Fuck.” I felt an orgasm stirring in my core.

Beretta grinned. “You ready to cum on daddy’s dick?”

“Is it mine?” I asked, ignoring his question.