Changing Stiles Page 12

  Already, I know what he’s saying is true. I've never felt this way about anyone before. I had lost my virginity at fourteen, and trust me, there had been nothing special about thinking, "What the fuck am I doing?" running through your mind when your hymen is being pierced by some inexperienced minute-boy.

  Carter doesn’t speak when he links his fingers through mine but stands up and begins walking towards the stairs with me in tow. There are no words coming from my mouth now, only the heavy breathing escaping my lungs as I follow him up the stairs. They seem endless as we make the climb, my nerves rattling with each step.

  It never makes a difference how many times I enter his room; the sight of the massive sleigh bed still astonishes me. He told me that his mattress had to be specially made. There's enough room for about four people to sleep in it comfortably and they would never even touch. The rest of the room boasts the same “bigness”. From the entertainment system to the television to the black art pictures that decorate his walls. When I first saw it, I linked it to his ego, which is just as big as mine.

  "You still think you ready for me?" he inquires with a sleek grin.

  I lick my lips as my hands reach the hem of his shirt. "You think you ready for me?" I return, inching his shirt up toward his stomach.

  “It’s been months, Alieas," he complains after I get the shirt off.

  In my mind, it has been forever. I suck my teeth. "You're the one who suggested we wait, remember?"

  “Well, the waiting ends here.”

  Blood spikes through my veins. I've anticipated this moment since the night he suggested that friends don't fuck. The friendship is over then because I'm making this man my property. Excitement tingles up my spine because I'm ready for him to knock the bottom out. Carter has been celibate longer than I have. Yet he still actin' like the wait doesn't matter. It is taking him an eternity to get my shirt off. I shouldn't get so wrapped up in the expectancy of the act but rather be content with the beauty of this momentous occasion. I'm trying to savor the moment, but the realization that in a few minutes, this perfect man is going to be inside me is body shattering.

  “I want you,” I declare, touching my lips to his. "I need you." That comes out a little breathlessly as my fingers go to work on his belt and jeans. Carter put his hands over mine to still them. Then he backs away. He goes over to the black leather chaise and takes a seat. He licks his lips and smiles at me before he begins to unlace his Timbs.

  Carter kicks the boots off but stays where he is. "Come ’ere," he orders lightly. I slink over sexily to stand in front of him. He grasps me from the waist, those magnificent working man's hands possessively digging into my flesh. Breathless, I stand as he pulls me closer. He lets his head rest on my stomach and then starts to kiss a short trail from one end to the other and flicks his tongue in my navel. My fingers roam aimlessly over his head before I tilt his head back to stare at him.

  Now that he's looking up at me, I'm fixated. No, enraptured would be a better word to describe the desired effect his baby browns have on me. Carter’s gaze is so penetrating that I feel exposed to him in a way I've never be with any other man. The look we share is so intimate and for one second, I think he is going to tell me he loves me. I don't know why he hasn't said it yet, but he needs to get with it.

  I'm in love, so his ass better be in love.

  Carter breaks our connection and reaches around my back until his fingers are able to complete their magic on my bra snaps. I close my eyes as he stands and gently pushes the straps off my shoulders. When my arms are free, Carter bends his head to the hollow of my neck, where he kisses me and slowly descends to my erect chocolate nipple. I want to let my head roll back when his calloused fingertips caress the other breast instead. I dig my fingers into his wild mass of hair to hold him still as if he were my child. His other hand holds my back as he feasts to both of our delights.

  Minutes pass before he pulls me down beside him. He kisses me until my back becomes trapped between him and the arm of the chaise. Carter takes his time kissing a straight line from my swollen lips to the top button of my jeans. He unfastens them, and unhook the latch on my chain belt, which falls to the floor with a clinking thud. Carter covers my wanting body with his as I opened my legs to willingly accept him.

  His kisses grow hungrier and more forceful now, devouring me like his favorite meal, and I arch up to meet him. My hands caress his strong shoulders and the taut muscles of his back where they traveled into his jeans and find his boxers to grab those ass cheeks that are like stone. I move my hips against him in invitation. In a minute, he's going to have me begging. He already knows how badly I want him.

  Shit, “I need you, Carter. Oh, God,” I plead as I hook one of my legs around his hips.

  He chuckles then looks me directly in my eyes. “You love me?”

  Whatever happened to just saying how you felt? I wasn't going to answer him, but then he kissed the breath out of me. “Yes,” I huff. “You?" I tease with a roll of my hips.

  "Oh, yeah," he finally admits. His body moves away from me but his hands never leave my body. They travel down my legs as he starts to peel my jeans from my body. To assist him, I lift my hips and raise my knees to help him get them off. “Say it then,” I demand when the jeans are thrown on the floor.

  I want the damn words. I want to hear him tell me he loves me and know without a shadow of a doubt that what he says is real. I want my heart to skip a beat as it trips over his words. I want his love and I want him to give it to me.

  "In a minute," he responds, spreading my now closed thighs. "You got something that belongs to me," he purrs seductively, dropping light kisses on the inside of one thigh. I move my hips involuntarily. My pussy knows what that means, and she is so ready for it that she's sending out an open invitation. Carter positions himself so that he can remove my panties and just fall face-first all up in it.

  My eyes begin to roll in the back of my head when the calloused pad of his finger touches my wet clit. I just know that I'm going to die. A man hasn't had his face down there since the night I let Justin taste my goods.

  No thinking about other men.

  I push at the unwelcome thoughts of sharing myself with other men while I giving myself to Carter. I haven't busted a nut since that night. I promised myself that I wouldn’t come again until I had his dick in me. I haven't even given in and masturbated. All I want is him.

  "You taste good," he mumbles as he ran his tongue up and down my slit, tonguing my silken folds. I attempt to close my legs, but he holds them firmly apart with both hands. My juices are flowing like ocean currents. The suckling noise is erotic music to my ears. I want to beg him to never stop as he spanks my clit with his thick ass tongue.

  "Ahh, Awww. Yes… yeeeeesssss," I moan, unable to say much more after his whole mouth begins to manipulate my temple. I start clenching my fingers into a fist for lack of anything else to do with them. If I put them in his hair I'm going ride his face like a mechanical bull. And if I do that, I know I’m going to come too quickly.

  This is the first time I've had someone eat me so thoroughly. I want to savor this feeling of complete relaxation forever. But the latest swirl of the tongue has my back tensing, so I put my fingers in his hair and begin to gyrate my hips.

  “Caarteeer,” I moan helplessly when he places my left leg over his shoulder and exerts pressure on the right one to keep me within his control. I'm almost at the point where I'm about to go buck wild. My orgasm is brewing and from the mounting buildup, it's going to be one hell of an ecstasy storm. It is over when he lightly bites down on my clit. I think I break into a thousand quivering pieces as I hold his mouth to me. The sensations have me ready to break down in tears.

  I can't even speak. Fuck, I can barely breathe. My man has a serious tongue game. Whew, goddamn, I'm still shaking.

  Carter lays his head on my belly as my body began to calm. I remove my hands from his hair and flex them so they release the death grip I’d been holding. I lie
here for minutes, just melting into the leather of the chaise and rubbing his head.

  I lick my lips as I relish in the most explosive orgasm I've had in my entire damn life. Carter inches his way up my body and kisses me with those same lips that just devoured my pussy.

  He presses his forehead to mine and quietly utters "I love you" for the first time. Gently, he smoothes away the stray hair tendrils that lay across my face from thrashing my head around.

  I capture his face in my hands,"I love you." And I mean it. Not in some young girl insecure type of way. Saying it lightens the pressure I've been carrying around since I realized it. Hearing him say it overjoys me. I laugh as he kisses me.

  "I love you so much," I repeat, hugging him to me.

  "I told you that you was gon' be my woman," he laughs arrogantly.

  "You ain't finish the job yet," I tease. The orgasm being as unraveling as it was still can't make me forget my original objective.

  "Oh, I'm ‘bout to," he comments with a nod. Carter makes a motion to get up and pulled me along with him. Naked, I follow him to the bed, where he pulls back the black down comforter and sheets.

  While he takes his time stepping out his jeans, I get comfortable on the huge bed. I try to avoid staring at his dick as it is being revealed to me but I couldn't. My eyes are glued to the magic stick I’ve dreamed about for the last four months. When the boxers finally slip down his legs, I see my prize. I have to close my eyes quick before I gape with my mouth wide open. The dick is beautiful. I knew my baby was carrying that work, but it’s nice to have direct confirmation.

  Smiling, I hum in appreciation and trace my lips with the tip of my tongue. I think he is standing there just so I can gawk at him. His ass knows that he's fine as hell and that his equipment is about to fix my problem. I crook my finger and motion for him to come to me. And he wastes no time bringing me what I decide to claim as mine.

  Just when he is beside the bed, he opens the drawer. I watch him grab a handful of condoms, dropping all except one beside the lamp. I suddenly realize that protection has been the last thing on my mind. As a secondary thought, I wonder just who in the hell is going to use more than five condoms in one session? While my mind wonders, Carter sheaths himself in a condom and climbs on top of the bed with me.

  On top of me.

  Doing my part, I spread my thighs to accept him comfortably. At first, he just rubs the head of his dick on my pussy, teasing me until I whimper in protest. Then he kisses me into silence as his hands slip under my butt to bring me closer for swift penetration. Arching my back, I cry out as we make initial contact.

  "Shh, you gon' wake Mira up," he whispers, gathering me up and holding me tighter. I didn't realize that I was that loud. I don't realize any activity going on around me. Only inside me.

  "Come on, open up, baby," he coaxes quietly, lifting my hips higher so he can dig deeper. "Let me in." The seductive tone of his voice drugs me into submission. I'm high, getting addicted with each slow, practiced stroke and hushed comment.

  Carter lets both of his hands roam along my thighs as he pushes my knees back. In so deep, I draw short breaths as he pulls out, almost to the tip and slams back in. The repeat motions have me reaching for things that aren't there. Closing my eyes and biting down on my bottom lip, I wrap my legs around his waist and cross them at the ankles. My body moves rhythmically with his as he dances inside me. I arch my hips, moving them in circles, trying, yearning, reaching for a deeper sense of intimacy when he provides me with one.

  He searches for my hands and takes them in his, intertwining our fingers. Those amber eyes are staring into me as if he can see clear through me. "I love looking into your eyes," he admits pumping furiously into me.

  "I love having you inside me," I moan. "Deeeeeper, Carter. I want you deeper," I beg.

  That is all the confirmation Carter needs to start fuckin' my ass rough like a porn star. I mean, he really started putting in work. Deeper? Did I say deeper? I want to take my words back when I feel his dick all up in my stomach like it was going to come out through my mouth on the next stroke.

  One of his hands holds my ankle while the other holds my shoulder; this is to secure me because he realizes that I can't handle this shit. My moans turn into screams of pleasure. He quickly covers my mouth with his to smother my screams that would surely awaken Amira. How am I supposed to remember there is a child in the house while he's fuckin' me like he's been in jail for the past twenty years?

  Just as I think I am going to die, the hand that’s held my ankle finds its way between our bodies and begins to massage my clit.

  The dick is steadily slamming in and out of me. His skilled fingers are going round and round, manipulating my shit. I am starting to go buck on his ass. I want him to go deeper, and I strain upward towards his hand. I take hold of his head and hold it tightly to my body as I fight to cum. I ride that wave for a minute.

  "Damn, baby," he breathes, slowing his pace but increasing the pressure of the hand rubbing my clit.

  "Make me cum!" I plead. "Carter, baby, please make me cuuuum," I beg, on the verge of unleashing another powerful orgasm. My eyes shut on their own accord while I bite down on my bottom lip to keep from screaming.

  "This my pussy?" he demands.

  Yes, it is his. Any man who can take ownership of it like this definitely has exclusive rights to the pussy. Now that I think about it, I'm kind of surprised he asks me he never seemed to be the type of man who needs macho affirmations in the bedroom. He’s always been respectful about intimacy, never demanding to know whose pussy he’s in. But then again, up until tonight, I had never made love to him before.

  “Yessssssss, it’s yours."

  The tremors begin at the soles of my feet, rushing up through my thighs, which has him clenched tightly at the waist, into my stomach, down in my buttocks, and inside the walls of my pussy. This odd feeling of euphoria fills my chest as I struggled to breathe. I don’t care if I die from busting a nut this huge. Alieas Zonnai Stiles is going to die a happy ass camper then ‘cause my orgasm isn’t going to wait. My heart is pounding in my ears, begging for a moment of relaxation.

  He put it on me so good, I’m still chanting "It's yours" when I come. I shake like crazy but that doesn’t stop Carter from achieving his ultimate goal. His ass continues to work that huge dick in and out of me until he finally comes.

  Spent and out of breath, he lays his head on my chest and asserts, "Now, you're my queen."

  Thirteen

  October 2002

  Alieas

  I'm happy. I may just have all the things I’ve ever dreamed about. I don’t want to jinx it. So, I’m just going to enjoy. My mom is always throwing huge ass parties for some reason or another, I hope that I’m getting some cake out of this shindig. Aside from that, she is testing my limits, though. At first, she didn't approve of Carter, now she's supposedly giving me tips on how to keep him happy. She should be concerned with my happiness. And she should've been more selective with her guest list.

  My cousin Janelle is walking around with her nose in the air. I'm like, “Bitch, please sit your attention-seeking-ass down somewhere.” And they know that I can't stand her. Shit, hardly anybody can stand her. The only reason I'm going to ignore her is because it would upset dinner. That and my mom would have a heart attack.

  Janelle makes me sick. Flipping her long hair and smiling like she fuckin' sweet. She is a horrible person. Growing up, I was the biggest, weight-wise of all the grandchildren, and that bitch never let me forget it. Janelle always had jokes and little smart remarks about my being fat. I don't know how many fights we had over it. I beat her ass every time, though.

  As we got older, her bitter attitude towards me turned into envy. Knowing I'm the shit placed me on her can't touch list. Plus, I've always been everybody's favorite, and she can't stand it. We haven't spoken a nice word to one another since her boyfriend decided that he would have rather been my man instead of hers.

  I didn't want hi
m for the simple fact that she was my cousin. But of course, "Ms. Cutie" couldn't fathom the thought that he would want me over her in the first place. She had handled it with the grace and elegance of a fifteen-year-old and called me a fat bitch, a couple of ‘fat bitches’ over the years. I shrugged off the irritation. It’s cool. Not my fault her nigga loved fat bitches. Was begging to bury his face between the apex of these fat ass thighs.

  Janelle had to learn just like all of these other girls who think that they can punk and play me ‘cause I'm big. Fuck that big shit. It's not even an issue for me. I can get who I want when I want, and I dare any hoe to try and stop me. Ain't no sleepin' in this spot, so this hoe better step off.

  “You finally lost all that weight,” Janelle comments backhandedly. The nerve of this bitch, who looks as if she needs to do a couple of sit-ups herself. I want to wipe that self-serving smile clean off her ugly ass face, but I just smile. My parents would have a damn fit if I acted a fool.

  “And?” I retaliate. If this girl thinks she can back me into a corner, she's dead wrong. I'm a good two inches taller than her, so I stand up. Janelle looks me up and down and then smiles. “You look nice,” she compliments, surprising me into silence.

  “Thank you,” I sputter, shocked that she actually said something nice to me for a change.

  “Lions; Lions.” I smile at the little voice that's calling me. I think it's cute. I bend down to pick her up. Then she tells me, “Daddy told me to come find you.”

  “Well, you found me,” I reply, smiling at the chocolate drop in my arms.

  “Well, what's your name, pretty?” Janelle asks Amira.

  “Amira,” she answers.

  “That's a beautiful name, sweetie.”

  “Thank you.” Then she turns her head and looks at me with her big, bright eyes. “Lions, will you fix me a snack.”

  "You hungry?"

  She nods. "Excuse us, Janelle." Without another word, I walk away from my cousin with lil’ mama clinging to my neck.