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“Looocccckkkk…” I screamed, grabbed his arms and dug my nails into his skin as my orgasm hit me like one of those high-speed trains.
“Fuck, Kitten, that was so fucking hot… shit…”
He started to move faster, the rhythm of his hips erratic which told me he was about to come too.
“Please, Lock, I can’t… I can’t,” I begged, but for what, I wasn’t sure. I just knew I couldn’t take this anymore. Whatever spot he was hitting inside of me was too much.Hewas too much.
Finally, he came, releasing what felt like his whole soul into me. He collapsed on top of me for a few seconds before he slowly pulled out and laid next to me, out of breath, eyes closed and a smile on his face.
“Baby…” he whispered but didn’t say more.
I knew what he wanted. I turned to my side, snuggled up against him, resting my head on his shoulder, my leg against his. He kissed my forehead, his lips lingering for a few moments before he shifted back.
I smiled as I caressed his cheek, loving the post cuddling after sex with him. The next time I woke, Lock was dressed and ready for work. He kissed me gently on the forehead—a girl could get used to this—and told me he’d call me later. I mumbled something like okay or have a nice day or whatever. I fell back to sleep after that, not emerging until well past one.
Showered and starving, I came downstairs to find Homer sitting at the dining room table eating a sandwich. He looked up at me as I descended down the steps, nodded his head, and pointed to the kitchen. The nonverbal communication told me I had a sandwich waiting for me in the kitchen as well. I ate, did some laundry, cleaned and hung out with Homer watchingTheFirst 48. I swear watching this show with cops was very entertaining, especially when they explained how they would have done things ten times better and faster.
I told myself not to get suckered into playing cards with this card shark, but it didn’t work. We ended up playingPoker,UNO,Five Hundredagain, andI Declare War.
The night finally winded down after I spanked him twice inI Declare War. I was in the kitchen boiling rice for my stir fry and making a lovely and strong alcoholic drink for both Homer and I when I heard a loud thud. I froze, listened for Homer to cuss or complain that he dropped something, but all I heard was silence.
“Homie?” I called out, using the nickname I gave him, expecting a response, but I got nothing.
I could feel my heart rate picking up its pace. I didn’t want to panic, but the eerie silence in this house was causing my nerves to dial straight to one hundred.
I called Homer again, nothing. Finding the nerve, I stepped out of the kitchen and came face to face with a man wearing a ski mask.
Holy fuck…
He didn’t say anything to me. I looked around the room hoping that Homer would step out of nowhere, but he didn’t.Where is he?
I had left him in the living room. If he had heard something or any time he went to check on a noise or the windows and doors, he’d tell me. This time he didn’t. Shit, I hoped he was okay.
I couldn’t think about that now. I needed to survive.
The man started walking toward me. I started backing up. He started moving faster. There was no place for me to go, but I wasn’t thinking about that. I just wanted to get away from him. I started moving into the kitchen and the man reached out and grabbed me by my wrist. I snatched away and took more steps inside the kitchen.
“Get over here,puta,” growled a heavily accented voice.
It threw me for a loop. When I first saw him, I naturally thought of Byron. I thought this was him, but I should have known it wasn’t. I didn’t get the dreadful feeling in the pits of my stomach like I always did when he was around. No, this was something else. Miguel?
I didn’t have time to contemplate any further. My mind shifted to survival mode, just like Ayana said it would.
The stranger grabbed me again and started to pull me to him. I tried to resist looking behind me to grab something, and the only thing I saw was the pan of boiling water. I quickly grabbed it and flung the contents at the masked man. He tried to duck, but he didn’t get completely clear. The boiling water didn’t hit his face, but I got him on his back.
He roared. I attacked.
I kicked him in his knee, then balls. He bent over, and I grabbed his head and brought my knee to meet his face. I moved as fast as I could to keep him off guard, to prevent him from getting his bearings and reacting. I pushed him hard in his chest, he went down. I started kicking him everywhere I could, but mainly his groin was my area of choice. That and his face. I heard someone screaming and at first, I thought it was the heap of asshole at my feet. But I learned the voice sounded a lot like mine.
Tired of kicking him, I went to grab the dining room chair when someone grabbed me from behind.
“Get off me! Get off me!” I screamed, reared my head back, aiming for a shot to the nose.
Whomever grabbed me wasn’t a friendly. His touch made my skin crawl, gave me the Heebie Jeebies. He lifted me in the air, and I kicked back, trying for the shins. I was suddenly slammed to the ground my head hitting the floor. I was dazed; the room started spinning, my hip hurt like a son of a gun. I’ve been slammed to the ground before, compliments of Ayana, but there was always a mat underneath me. Not this time.
Ouch…
“Come here you bitch!” roared the man as he grabbed my hair, pulling me to my feet.
