mean!smoke who keeps your hands behind your back whenever he has you on all fours. claiming his decision to do that is because you always run whenever you two are in doggy style but really he just enjoyed seeing how helpless and overstimulated you got when you had no choice but to take his dick. he’d angle his hips so he could go deeper into your essence and so he could find that g-spot, and speed his pace up so his mushroom tip could kiss it over and over again.
“nah, you gone take this dick. all of it, ain’t no motherfucking running.”
mean!smoke who’s idea of punishing you when you’ve been bratty is tying you up to a chair and holding a vibrator up to your clit. letting you get so overstimulated and overwhelmed that you can’t even think or talk straight. he does all of this while making you apologize , and manipulating you into thinking if you apologize he’ll stop. instead he ups the setting with every apology you give him.
“tell daddy you sorry, an’ then i’ll take it off mama.”
mean!smoke who when he feels as though you’re bratting on purpose just so he can give you a “funishment” he’ll let you act up for a little, let you think you’re going to get what you want before quickly bending you over his knee, riding up your skit and using his hand to forcefully spank your ass. after a few minutes your ass starts to hurt, which causes you to try and block his hand from your butt. but he uses his free hand to move it and hold your hand down. forcing you to take it.
“you had so much shit to say earlier. you better take this shit.”
guess who’s back yall.. mee! finally, and i’m actually serious this time.i got fics lined up for yall.. some of which im dropping teasers for this week! it was just so hard balancing this + updating my books on wattpad. it was exhausting, so i just took time to focus on wattpad for a little. but now im back on here and i honestly and genuinely plan on staying <3. can’t wait to write on here again 🥹.
Warnings: 18+ | You are a brat | Smoke is a Dom | Smoke is kind of toxic | Modern AU | Overstimulation | Masterbation |Coochie drilled into oblivion | Creampie | Possession | Jealousy | Ownership | He’s horny | You are horny | 98% smut 2% plot | Let me enjoy my kink for mean men… I’ll go to therapy for it later.
“And when we get back to this house,” he shouted, voice sharp enough to cut through bone, “don’t ask me to do a damn thing.”
Your hand flew up in a sharp dismissive wave as you twisted away from him in the passenger seat, the car jerking slightly as Smoke’s grip tightened around the wheel. “That’s fine! I don’t need you for a fucking thing ANYWAYS!”
The words sliced through the thick tension that had been hanging over the two of you like a thundercloud for the past two damn days. A silent war with no winners and a whole lot of heat. It all started because the barista down at Morning Bloom Coffee smiled a little too long when handing you your oat milk vanilla latte. The barista gave you a simple smile trying to be polite. Maybe he did it a second too long. Maybe not. But either way, Smoke saw red like he always did when it came to you and anyone who wasn’t him.
Without hesitation, he’d socked the man in the mouth so damn fast your drink hit the floor before you could blink. And now two full days later you both were still in a petty, fiery, jealous bender.
Day one of your argument you stayed strong and moved through the house like a queen in a castle that had been overrun by a jealous beast.
Your skincare routine? Luxurious.
Your work calls? On point.
Your outfit? A soft two-piece lounge set that hugged every curve like it missed you.
When dinner came, you threw yourself into it like you were being judged on Top Chef. You marinated lamb chops for hours. Cooked up homemade honey butter biscuits with a dash of cayenne in the butter… just the way… he… liked it. But you made it very clear: that plate was yours and yours alone.
As you cooked, Smoke lingered around the kitchen and his massive frame leaned against the fridge while watching you plate your meal like a hawk. His nostrils flared as his eyes burned holes into your skin. He couldn’t believe his woman wasn’t offering him a plate of food, but he also wasn’t a man who would beg.
While completely ignoring his existence, you sat at the dining table with your legs crossed, lips glistening with lamb jus and smirking between each bite like you were daring him to say something. He didn’t. But oh, the look he gave you… Girl run
When Saturday rolled in the silence started to feel dangerous. This was the one day out of the week when Smoke would usually hit the gym with Stack, run errands he couldn’t get to during the week and any other ‘man shit’ that you didn’t care to know about. But not today. Today, that man made it a point to stay his ass at home. All. Damn. Day. And worse? He did it wearing only grey sweatpants and no shirt.
Every inch of Smoke was carved out of marble by God. Smooth brown skin stretched over thick muscle and broad shoulders. His gold chains swung low, catching the light every time he reached for something. And those damn sweatpants? They hung low. Way too damn low while leaving nothing to the imagination.
You were sitting on the couch, pretending to scroll through your phone, but your eyes kept sliding up catching every stretch, every shift, and every flex Smoke would make.
When he purposefully reached his arm up to stretch, that’s when he caught you. “Fuck you staring at?” His voice was deep and sharp. His lips curled into a smirk even as his eyes narrowed, knowing exactly what you were doing.
Your mouth went dry but you sucked your teeth and rolled your eyes before firing back just as sharp. “Ain’t nobody looking at you, nigga.” You turned your head fast, placed a nearby throw blanket onto your lap, and squeezed your thighs shut like you weren’t damn near vibrating with need.
Smoke let out a scoff and dropped onto the armchair across from you, legs spread wide, one hand rubbing the scruff along his jaw, the other dragging down his thigh like he didn’t know what that did to you. But he knew. Of course he knew. Because he’s a SLUT. Smoke was a man born with sin in his bloodstream and you were his favorite outlet.
“You real bold when your pussy hungry,” he goaded without looking at you, just low enough to make your stomach flip. “Real fuckin’ bold.”
You didn’t respond. Your throat tightened and your fingers curled into the blanket as heat spread between your thighs like wildfire. You hated how your body betrayed you. How your nipples perked beneath your tank top just from hearing his voice like that. How your lower belly tightened at the memory of his mouth, his hands, his— Stop. You weren’t going to fold. Not this time. No. This time you had a point to prove… So you stayed quiet.
Smoke leaned forward then, his forearms braced on his knees, honey brown eyes finally locking with yours. He was so beautiful it made your chest hurt. That hard jaw. That slow burn in his stare. The way his gold tooth caught the light when he smirked.
“You gon’ act like you don’t hear me? I said…” he repeated, his voice dropping lower, rougher, “… you real bold when your pussy hungry.”
You tossed the blanket off your lap like a challenge and stood up, storming past him toward the kitchen. But before you could make it, his hand snatched your wrist. “Don’t touch me,” you snapped.
“I ain’t touchin’ you,” he said coolly, pulling you gently, slow and patient, until you were standing right between his legs. “I’m remindin’ you. That mouth? That attitude? That little fake-ass silent treatment you think you givin’? That shit don’t work on me, pretty girl.”
He looked up at you like you were the last good thing in a ruined world. And then his eyes dropped trailing slowly down your body, soaking in every soft curve, every part of you he knew like scripture. “Go on. Keep walkin’ away,” he muttered, voice like hardened steel. “But I know damn well you miss how it feel when I grab the back of that neck and tell you to hush while I—”
“Don’t.” You said it too fast. Too breathless.
He grinned. That arrogant grin that made your knees weak and your pride falter. “You really mad?” he asked quietly, now wrapping a hand around your thigh and easing you a fraction closer. “Or you just don’t wanna admit that I had a reason to knock that pretty boy barista out his damn shoes?”
You sarcastically laughed at Smoke’s audacity. “That man smiled. That’s it. You almost went to jail over a smile.”
“Don’t care.” He leaned forward, nose brushing against your lower belly, breath warm through the cotton of your tank. “Anyone smile at you like that again, I’ll put him in the dirt.”
You stared down at him, your fingers twitching by your sides. “You’re a damn lunatic.”
“Yup.” His eyes lifted, black and unrepentant. “Your lunatic.”
You wanted to slap him. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to scream and bite and ride and cry and maybe all at once. But instead, you turned your head, stared at the wall, and whispered, “Don’t talk to me.”
Smoke scoffed and his grip tightened before he kissed the inside of your thigh, right on that special spot that always makes you forget how to think straight. The kiss was gentle… dangerous… knowing “Aight, baby,” his voice muffled against your skin. “I won’t say a word.” But the fire in those orbs told a different story.
When you finally pulled away, storming back into the kitchen to cool down, you could feel his stare trailing behind you like a shadow with claws. You stood next to the kitchen island hoping for a moment of peace but instead your heart rattled like a stray bullet in your chest. The room felt too hot, too still… way too still, like the moment right before a thunderstorm when all the air gets sucked out of the sky and the ground doesn’t know whether to shake or stay still.
You ran your hands through your hair and let out a frustrated sigh. After 24 hours of being strong, you couldn’t let yourself fold from a little thigh kiss. You weren’t even hungry, but your hands moved on autopilot, opening the fridge, grabbing things, pretending like your body wasn’t still humming from the feel of his mouth on your thigh.
Smoke wasn’t slick and you weren’t safe. Not from him and not from the heat building up under your skin like it was trying to boil you alive. Behind you, the sound of the armchair creaking and his footsteps thumping across the hardwood made you hold your breath. You didn’t bother turning, you already knew the look on his face was smug and cocky like he was just biding time until your pride finally tapped out.
“You heavy-footed on purpose?” you muttered without looking at him. “Or you tryna make sure I know you comin’ so I don’t swing a skillet at your head?”
Smoke didn’t say a word but you heard the slow grind of his teeth and a slight click when his tongue hit the back of them. Then, the fridge door beside you opened. His arm brushed yours with intent and his skin was as hot as a stovetop. He reached in and grabbed a bottle of water, twisted the cap off, and took a long, long drink like he had been parched since war-time.
You still didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking at him. Instead you stopped fiddling with the random assortment of ingredients and crossed your arms under your chest so tightly your hands started going numb. But none of that mattered. Smoke was standing so close now with his presence wrapping around you like a weighted blanket made of lustful desire, silently daring you to keep dismissing him.
“You really don’t want me talkin’ to you?” he asked finally with his tone full of challenge. “Even though your thighs damn near gave up and invited me in just now?”
You turned your head and squinted your eyes at him. “You punched an innocent man for smiling at me!”
“And I said a barista don’t need to be starin’ at what’s mine like he got a fuckin’ chance!”
“You don’t own me, Elijah,” you mumbled.
That was the first time you’d said his real name in days. And you had the nerve to use it while telling him that he doesn’t own you.
Smoke’s jaw ticked. His nostrils flared. And then he laughed like he couldn’t believe he was having this conversation with you right now. “I don’t own you?” he repeated, stepping in now, cornering you against the counter. “You right… You right, you grown, huh? Real grown. Is that why you been sittin’ in this house clenching your lil thighs every time I so much as stretch?”
“Back up,” you whispered. It didn’t sound as strong as you wanted it to. Not when your back hit the cold of the cabinet and your front was all warm-blooded temptation and hard muscle.
Smoke leaned in like a snake slithering across grass before striking its prey. His lips brushed your ear, and his voice dropped to a place that made your belly twist. “Tell me to back up one more time, baby,” he taunted, “and mean it.”
You swallowed thickly, chest rising fast beneath your thin top.
His hand settled on the counter beside your hip, the other drifting ever so gently down the side of your arm, brushing like a warning. “Say it,” he taunted again. “Or let me remind you why you don’t ever sleep right unless I’m wrapped around you.”
Now it was your turn to clench your jaw but your breath betrayed you. Your thighs pressed together again, heat rushing back like a tidal wave. “Why you always gotta be like this?” you breathed, voice barely holding on.
He chuckled darkly. “Because I know what’s mine.” His hand slid beneath your shirt, fingers brushing the dip of your waist. “And I know when she lyin’… putting on a front.” He kissed your neck just once to test the waters. It was soft but full of possession.
And when you didn’t stop him, when you didn’t shove him away, he nipped your collarbone and muttered, “You gon’ keep fightin’ me or you gon’ let Daddy fix this?”
“I’m still mad at you,” you said, even as your fingers gripped his sweatpants.
“Stay mad then,” he growled, lifting you up onto the counter like you weighed nothing. “But don’t pretend you don’t need me.”
It took all your might to not whimper when his hand slid between your thighs, the heat of his palm making your eyes roll back. “I told… you not… to talk to me,” you gasped.
Smoke smirked against your throat. “Then put that pretty lil pussy in my face and shut me up.”
Your eyes squinted into a glare and heat rushed up your neck as your lips parted in disbelief. Your body wanted him. Badly. But your mind… that damn stubborn, bratty, prideful-ass mind was not about to let him win this round so easily.
And so… you did what any unhinged woman dating Elijah Moore would do and shoved a hand into his perfect face… and mushed him. What color roses do you want at your funeral? You pushed his cocky expression away like you were slapping a mosquito. The suddenness made him take a step back, just long enough for you to hop down from the counter in one quick motion and scurry away like a rabbit setting itself free from a snare.
“I said don’t talk to me, nigga!” you yelled, snatching your composure back like a silk robe off the floor.
You stormed out the kitchen, and tossed a middle finger over your shoulder. “And put some damn clothes on! Walkin’ ‘round this house like I could buy you for the night with two dollars and a half-stick of gum!”
Smoke stood still like a statue and for a second he didn't know if he was dreaming or if his woman was truly out of her damn mind. Then that low, dangerous laugh rolled from his chest like thunder over wet concrete. It was a sound that did nothing but pour gasoline on the flames already licking between your thighs. He loved when you got like this, wild-eyed, stubborn-lipped, and sass pouring from your throat like it was made of honey and broken glass.
He knew you’d fold. And when you did… he’d be the one to catch you.
The rest of the day you avoided Smoke like the floor was lava and he was the devil waiting at the bottom. You locked yourself in your shared bedroom and buried yourself in the sheets like they could protect you from the walking sin on the other side of the door. You distracted yourself for hours. Scrolled through your phone. Scrolled again. Played lo-fi beats. Switched to gospel. Thought about cooking. Decided not to because that would involve you leaving your sanctuary. Thought about apologizing. Decided not to because it would be a cold day in hell before you apologize to him. Thought about touching yourself… Absolutely did not… yet.
Eventually, your body gave in to exhaustion. The softness of the pillows, the hum of the AC in the background and the scent of Smoke lingering on the sheets rocked you into a tense, twitchy sleep. And then your mind betrayed you.
Of course your unconscious mind decided to betray you as you went off into dreamland. Dream-Smoke had his mouth everywhere on your body. On your neck. Down your chest. Between your thighs. This version of Smoke was utterly ruthless. He said your name like it was a threat and a prayer. His hands gripped your legs like he was holding onto the only thing that made sense in this godforsaken world.
“Open up, baby. Yeah, just like that…”
Your body arched in your sleep, your mouth parted, a soft moan fluttering against the dark. And right when you were about to reach that shimmering edge, Dream-Smoke pulled back and taunted in your ear, “Shouldn’t’ve told me not to talk, huh?”
You gasped yourself awake and the bedroom was cloaked in darkness, only a soft sliver of moonlight slipped between the curtains. Your chest heaved and your pajama shorts were damn near soaked through. The cotton stuck to your core like it had a vendetta. A frown pulled at your lips and a tear slid down your cheek before you could stop it.
You turned your head to look at the blinking alarm clock through wet eyes and frowned again. It was currently 2:03 AM and you couldn’t believe you somehow slept the entire the day away.
Peaking over your shoulder you let out a disgruntled sigh. Smoke was laid out like he didn’t have a care in the world. One arm slung behind his head, chest rising and falling with calm, heavy breaths. That same damn pair of grey sweatpants still clung to his hips. He looked peaceful. Angelic even. You wanted to punch him and make him suffer for what Dream-Smoke started but didn’t finish. But since you already got away with mushing him in the face you didn’t want to test your luck and simply whined.
A shaky, bratty, needy whimper left your throat as you wiped your still falling tears and leaned over, gently nudging Smoke's shoulder. He grunted and cracked one eye open. “What, baby?” His voice was sleep-worn and you tried not to focus on what hearing it was doing to your already wounded up body.
You pouted in the dark, nose wrinkled, lips trembling. “This is ALL your fault.”
Raising your voice early in the morning got Smoke’s full attention and he blinked slowly, as the remnants of sleep cleared from his face like a curtain lifting. His eyes found you in the moonlit darkness. You looked so adorable to him, pouty-lipped, flushed cheeks, and thighs pressed tightly together under the covers.
“The fuck you yellin’ at me for and cryin’ this early in the morning?” he asked, now fully awake, his tone clipped with concern and confusion.
You sniffled. “I… I need… I want… I want… to touch myself,” you admitted, lip quivering dramatically. “And since I’m still mad at you… I need you to leave the bed.”
Smoke blinked once at you and then again into the darkness like he was on an episode of The Office. He didn’t expect to be so entertained by your antics today and he started to chuckle to himself. This wasn’t a typical ‘I love how bratty my girl is acting’ type of laugh. No, this was a dark, ‘this girl done lost her fuckin’ mind’ laugh.
“You woke me up,” he said slowly, to make sure he got all the details correct, “to tell me that you’re horny… and I need to leave our bed… so you can touch what belongs to me?”
Your throat tightened. When Smoke repeated everything out loud it did sound kind of insane but that was besides the point. “You heard me,” you said, lifting your chin and pointing it to the door. “Now go.”
Smoke let out a final chuckle and didn’t move. He leaned back on one elbow, eyes gleaming in the dark like he could see the mess you’d become under those covers. “You really out here throwin’ tantrums at two in the morning ‘cause you can’t handle how badly you want me to fuck that attitude out of you?” he teased.
“I am handling it,” you bit back. “I’m asking you to leave. Like a grown woman.”
His tongue slid along the inside of his cheek. Then he reached down, adjusted himself in those sweats just slightly, and let out a hum that made your thighs twitch. “You sure?” he asked gently, like he was talking to a skittish wild animal about to bolt. “You sure you want me to leave, baby?”
“Yes,” you whispered, even as your legs squirmed beneath the blanket. “I don’t need you. I can do it myself.”
“Mhm… is that right...”
Smoke sat up slowly before swinging his legs off the side of the bed. He stood to his full height and then without saying another word he discarded his sweatpants, letting the moonlight shine on his intimidating half-hard manhood. You sat in complete shock, unsure what to say or what to do. Your mouth stayed agape and you could’ve sworn you didn’t breathe for 2 minutes, Your whole body burned with need and you hated this feeling.
And he spoke again in a cruel velvet-slick tone, “Go on then.” He climbed back in bed and laid on his back with his hands behind his head like he didn’t just take his pants off. “Show me how you don’t need me.”
The silence that followed was so thick it felt like smoke itself. It crackled with the weight of what you wanted to do and what your pride wouldn’t allow. Your fingers trembled under the blanket. You hated him, yet you wanted him. And you hated how badly you wanted him. All of this only made the leaking faucet between your thighs turn into a full blown fire hose.
He bit his bottom lip before antagonizing you. “Might help if you stop cryin’, baby. You can’t see your lil fingers down there with all them tears foggin’ up your eyesight.”
Your fists balled with annoyance but your thighs began to slightly part. Smoke didn’t move or touch you. He didn’t even acknowledge the way he could smell your sweet aroma in the room. He just gave you a look that said, ‘You can play this game all night, pretty girl… I’ll be here when you break.’
And you were so, so close to shattering. You stared at him like he’d summoned a demon into the room and dared you to dance with it.
Smoke stretched his long body across the bed like he was on display. Like he wasn’t a man who just dropped his pants in the middle of a silent standoff and dared you to stay proud. With his arms folded beneath his head, the swell of his chest rose and fell as if he weren’t aware of the war going on inside your body. The tension. The hunger. The absolute need that clawed at your insides like a caged animal. His dick sat heavy between his thighs, thick and idle, like it had time to wait. Like it knew it would be fed eventually.
“You got five seconds before I close my eyes and go back to sleep,” he grumbled without looking at you. “So go ahead. Get to rubbin’. Let me hear how good you make yourself feel without my help.”
Your lip trembled. You weren’t crying anymore, not from frustration anyway. But your thighs were sticky, your panties were soaked through, and every nerve ending in your body was throbbing like you’d been edgewalking through purgatory. Still… you weren’t gonna give him the satisfaction of begging. So you huffed in a loud and obnoxious manner before wiping your cheeks like a toddler who just got scolded. You then yanked the covers off your body and laid flat on your back beside him, arms stiff at your sides.
Smoke turned his head slightly, one brow arched. “Thought you said you didn’t need me,” he said, tone sharp and mocking.
“I don’t,” you snapped. “I just need space.”
He smirked. “You sound stupid.”
You glared at the ceiling. “You look stupid.”
Another beat of silence. Then your hand slowly dragged beneath the waistband of your pajama shorts, and your breath hitched. You weren’t even doing anything yet, and your whole body tensed like you were about to commit a crime.
Smoke didn’t move but he watched from the corner of his eye. You could feel his eyes burning into the side of your face, heavy and loaded. Like if he blinked, he might miss the exact moment you broke. Your fingers brushed against your panties and found them soaked, the cotton clinging to your folds like it was trying to apologize for being in the way. You let out a shaky breath and your fingers twitched as you slid them beneath the fabric and gently grazed your clit.
The behemoth of a man next to you exhaled through his nose but he didn’t say a word as he continued to observe. You rubbed slow circles, small and hesitant, still stubborn as hell and still trying to prove a point you were seconds from losing as a soft and breathy moan slipped out.
Smoke turned his head toward you fully now, his gaze dark and unreadable. “You always make yourself sound so pretty,” he said, voice lower now, rough and molten. “But it don’t hit the same, do it?”
You didn’t answer him but your hips rolled in response to his question. Your hand moved faster. Your breath stuttered. Your back arched. Still—not a word. You didn’t plead or cry for help. To prove your point you used your own hand and held back the silent scream in your throat. Then you finally felt it… that build. It climbed your spine and tingled through your limbs, coiling low and tight in your belly like lightning trapped behind your navel. But just as your toes curled and your moans grew louder… Smoke’s hand slammed down on your wrist and you yelped.
He was above you now, face inches from yours, his chest heaving, lips parted. “That’s enough,” he growled. “This little show? Over.”
“Wha—? I didn’t even—” you started, but he cut you.
“You really gon’ make yourself cum when I’m layin’ right here?” he snapped, pressing your wrist into the mattress with one hand while the other dragged your shorts down in one brutal yank. “Tryna act like you in control of somethin’ when this pussy don’t even belong to you no more?”
You whimpered as his mouth crashed into yours, all heat and dominance, devouring your lips like he was punishing you for breathing without permission. His tongue pushed into your mouth while his hips settled between your thighs, and you could feel all of him, heavy and hot, grinding against your bare heat.
“You should’ve just asked,” he murmured against your mouth, voice trembling with restraint.
You blinked up at him, dazed and breathless. “Asked… what?”
“If I was done bein’ mad,” he answered, dragging his tip along your soaked entrance, teasing but never pushing in. “Cause I wasn’t. Not yet.” And with that he slid in excruciatingly slow. So slow you nearly blacked out.
“Now,” he growled, gripping your throat just enough to make your heart flutter, “you don’t talk to me.”
Your breath caught in your throat as he filled you inch by inch, until all nine inches of his rock hard flesh stretched you out causing your back arch off the bed. Once he was completely sheathed inside of your warm gummy walls Smoke didn’t move. Not yet. He held himself still with his hand still resting on your throat—not choking, just a firm reminder of who was in control. Of whose name was stitched into the folds of your body like ownership. Like scripture.
Your lashes fluttered as a soft, broken whimper escaped your lips.
“Yeah,” he hummed, watching your face intently. “That’s what I thought.”
The weight of him, the heat, the way his body caged yours like a storm rolling over weak land, every bit of it made your spine tremble. He didn’t have to say it, didn’t need to ask… he already knew. This wasn’t about sex anymore. This was about submission. About surrender. About you thinking you could ignore him, silence him, deny him, and still sleep soundly next to him every night.
His hips rolled meticulously and grinded so deep you swore you saw stars behind your eyes. His pace was punishing in its patience. Purposeful and steady. Like he wanted you to feel the agony he felt every second you ignored him. Every breath you wasted pretending you didn’t need him.
“You really thought you was gon’ touch yourself in this bed?” he grunted, lips ghosting over your jaw as he rocked into you again. “While I laid next to you? Like I ain’t the one that got this pussy cryin’ in the first place?”
You couldn’t even respond. Your mouth opened but no sound came out, just a sharp inhale, a choked moan, and the clenching of your legs around his hips.
He groaned low like he felt your apology in the way your walls pulled him in tighter.
“This one… if for every time you rolled your eyes at me,” THRUST.
“This one… is for every time you walked away from me,” THRUST.
“Fuck… and THIS one is for every time you told me not to talk to you,” SLAM.
You whimpered beneath him, nails digging into his arms as your pride cracked wide open and your body begged to be ruined. You couldn’t handle this torturous unhurried fuck session. You needed your walls plowed to smithereens and you needed it to happen right now. “I hate you,” you gasped.
“Shut up. You love me,” he corrected with a smirk, snapping his hips against yours harder now. “You love me when I got you stuffed full and dumb off my name.”
Your moans turned shameless… so soft, high, and desperate. Each slow thrust had you melting further, your bratty resolve unraveling like a ribbon. And Smoke? He watched the transformation like it was art. “There she go…” he whispered. “There’s my girl. Ain’t no talkin’ now, huh? Just that lil mouth open like you got somethin’ to say… but still don’t know how to say sorry.”
You finally met his gaze, eyes wide and glassy with need. “I’m—” you tried.
He pressed his fingers against your lips. “Nope.” Another thrust. Brutal. Deep. You cried out. “Don’t say shit else to me... Just take it.”
He dipped his head, kissed the corner of your mouth with an intimacy that contrasted the way he was owning you from the inside out. You wrapped your legs tighter around him, hips rising to meet him while chasing the edge of pleasure like you’d die if you didn’t reach it soon.
“I got you,” he whispered, his breath warm and ragged against your ear. “Go on, baby. Let go. Let me take it.”
Your orgasm crept up your spine like a threat, your whole body tightening under him. “Smoke—” you breathed, one hand tangling in the bedsheets beneath you, the other clutching his shoulder like a lifeline.
“I know, I know. Shhh, baby,” he cooed. “Come on. I got you.” And when you finally shattered—mouth open, legs shaking, eyes rolling—he never let up. He kept fucking you through it, hips grinding, mouth pressing kisses to your throat and chest, whispering your name like prayer and punishment all at once.
You went limp beneath him and he pulled back just enough to look you in the face, brushing a lone tear from your cheek. “You still mad?”
You blinked up at him, dazed and ruined. He smirked again. That same crooked, devilish thing that started it all. “Yeah… you look like you still got a fuckin’ attitude.”
Your chest rose and fell in shallow waves with your skin covered in sweat as you lay there boneless and ruined beneath him.
Smoke hovered above you like a storm cloud that refused to pass. His body didn’t press down; he just hovered, solid and still, like a hunter watching his prey breathe after the first strike. His arms caged you on either side, head tilted slightly as his gold chain swung gently from his neck and tapped your collarbone. Your legs still trembled from the aftershock and your thighs involuntarily locked around his waist, trying to pull him closer.
But Smoke didn’t move, he was so deep inside of you that you could barely think. And instead of chasing his own pleasure like any other man might, he just stared and studied you like you were the most precious thing he’s ever laid eyes on. You felt the subtle twitch of him inside you, ready, but not rushing. Not desperate. Because Smoke wasn’t a man ruled by impulse. He was ruled by control. And he wielded it like a blade.
“You done squeezing my dick?” he asked quietly, voice low and relaxed, like he had nowhere else to be but right here. “Or you need a minute to remember where you at?”
You blinked slowly, lips still tingling from where he kissed you, still too blissed out to string a proper sentence together. But he waited—patient, immovable—as your brows knit together, that ache you just got rid of was already building again and you finally realized… he wasn’t finished. He still hadn’t moved. And now, you were too aware of it. Too aware of the way he filled you like he’d been carved just for you. Too aware of the steady rise and fall of his chest. Of how warm and thick and ready he still felt inside you.
“Smoke,” you whined, voice hoarse and fragile.
He cocked a brow, his gold tooth glinting in the dark. “Yeah, baby?”
Your thighs flexed around him again, a needy little roll of your hips that made you whimper even as you tried to hold your pride in place. His hand slid slowly up the side of your throat, fingers curling around the hinge of your jaw to tilt your face up toward his.
“You feel that?” he murmured.
You nodded weakly, lips parting.
“I been sittin’ still. Holdin’ back,” he whispered, each word slipping into your mouth like honey and heat. “You been cryin’, whinin’, beggin’ me to leave. But I ain’t goin’ nowhere, baby.”
He leaned down, forehead nearly touching yours. “I stay when you bratty. Stay when you act like you don’t want me. Stay when you try to punish me with silence.”
A soft, broken sound spilled from your lips.
“I stay… ‘cause you mine.” Then finally… he moved again. Just a slow roll of his hips. Barely there. Just enough to make you feel the stretch again. Just enough to remind your body that your first orgasm was nothing but the beginning. Your nails found his back again, dragging lightly over the skin of his shoulders as your breath caught.
“You thought I was gon’ break first,” he said, dragging himself out slowly before sinking back into you. “Didn’t you?”
You moaned, head tipping back, throat arching beneath his palm.
“You thought that lil attitude was enough to make me lose my cool.” Another thrust. Deep and slow. The kind that made your vision blur.
“But you forgot who you dealin’ with,” he grunted as his lips brushed your ear. “I can fuck this perfect pussy slow like this for hours and still not cum.”
You whimpered again, your hips twitching, your body betraying you as your heat reignited. He kissed the curve of your cheek, your jaw, your ear.
“You don’t get quick fucks when you act like you don’t need me.” His hand slid between your bodies, fingers slipping down until they found that tender, swollen bundle of nerves. “You get discipline.”And as his fingers began to move in calculated devastating circles, his hips continued their cruel rhythm and your body began to shake again.
You could barely breathe. Every inch of your body was coated in sweat, your skin fever-hot, while your senses flooded with overstimulation. Smoke hadn’t let up and he hadn’t sped up either. That was the worst part… or maybe the best. He moved with purpose and mastery. Every grind of his hips was deep, as he poured himself into you like he was trying to combine your souls into one. And his fingers… God. The pads of them circled your clit with such devastating precision, you swore you were unraveling on a molecular level. Like you were coming apart from the inside out.
You gripped at his shoulders, his back, his biceps, wherever you could reach… but you couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t change the pace. Couldn’t make him move faster no matter how much your legs shook or your voice cracked. “P-please,” you breathed, not even sure what you were asking for. Release? Mercy? More?
Smoke leaned down, brushing his lips against your cheek with a smug grin carved into his face. “Oh… You beggin’ now?” he asked. “Wasn’t too long ago you was flippin’ me off and actin’ like I was walkin’ around here like a cheap thrill.”
His voice vibrated against your neck, dragging goosebumps down your spine. “You wanna cum again, pretty girl?” he murmured, fingers pressing down just slightly harder, swirling against your clit like he was drawing a map to your breakdown. “Is that what all them little tears are for?”
You whined, nodding frantically, your thighs beginning to quake again. Smoke didn’t speed up. He didn’t need to. Your body was desperate for him and would greedily take whatever was given. He knew you so well he could fuck you out of a meltdown without ever changing rhythm.
“You don’t deserve to cum yet,” he said lowly, pulling his mouth back to hover just above yours. “But I’m gon’ let you anyway. Just so you remember who got you moaning so loud our neighbors might file a noise complaint tomorrow.”
He moved in again with one solid and controlled stroke that made your eyes roll and your nails dig so deep into his back you swore you could feel muscle give. Your body started to quiver. “No—no, wait—” you whimpered, because you felt it building too fast, the peak rising like a wave with nowhere to go.
“Shhh,” he whispered, voice laced with hunger now, though his pace never changed. “That’s it. Go on. Cum on my dick.”
He kissed you and swallowed your cries as your walls constricted around him and you came again, harder than before. Your body jerked beneath him as your second orgasm crashed through you like a tidal wave smashing through a dam. You sobbed into his mouth, a mix of bliss and frustration and pure, helpless surrender. Your thighs shook uncontrollably and your nails dug into his flesh like he was the only thing keeping you from drifting away.
Smoke pulled back just enough to look at your face that was flushed and tear-streaked, while your mouth hung open in silent shock as you rode the aftershocks. “I don’t think that attitude is gone yet” he rasped, still deep inside you, still hard as stone. “You need another reminder. Don’t you, baby?”
You nodded weakly unable to form words.
Smoke slid his hand up your ribcage, slow and reverent, until he cupped the side of your face. His thumb brushed your bottom lip, tugging it gently. “I ain’t even started your real punishment yet.”
Your heart stuttered.
“Two days you gave me attitude,” he murmured, kissing your chin. “Two days you walked around this house actin’ like you forgot what my name felt like between your thighs… I'm nowhere near done with you yet.”
You gasped, your fingers twitched around his arms, already worn down and so full of him. You didn’t know if it was seconds or minutes or lifetimes that passed with him moving inside you like that—slow, deliberate, dominant. Your body felt swollen with sensation, soaked in the aftermath of two back-to-back orgasms that had left your breath scattered like glass shards across the mattress.
Your skin was hot to the touch, your muscles limp, your mind foggy with a heady mix of defiance and surrender. And through it all, Smoke hadn’t broken his rhythm. His stamina was inhuman, like he fed off control, fed off the way your body twitched and sobbed under his. The way you needed more and hated that it had to come from him.
But then… Something shifted. His eyes… those dark, obsidian things dragged across your face. He licked his lips, slow and thoughtful. Then he pulled back again. All the way out. You cried at the loss of fullness and rose your hips involuntarily trying to chase him. Smoke grinned but it wasn’t a playful or kind grin. Without a word, he grabbed your hips, flipped you over onto your stomach, and yanked your ass up until you were on your knees, chest pressed to the mattress. He spread your legs with his own and ran a hand down your back.
“You said I looked like I could be bought for two dollars and some gum,” he growled, dragging himself against your folds, wet and swollen and already twitching from anticipation.
You swallowed, face buried in the sheets. You remembered and silently cursed to yourself.
He leaned down, mouth grazing your ear as he lined himself up behind you. “Good thing for you, I don’t charge. But I do collect.”
And then he slammed into you. No warning. No patience. The thrust knocked the wind out of your lungs. “E-ELIJAHHHH! F-FUCKKK!” you cried, hands gripping the sheets like a lifeline.
Smoke’s pace was nothing like before. All that held-back heat, all that restraint? Gone. His hips snapped against you with vicious precision, his grip digging into your hips as your ass slapped against him, over and over, filling the room with the sound of skin meeting skin and your broken cries.
“This what you wanted?” he grunted, every word punched out between thrusts. “All that mouth, all that attitude… This what you needed to calm down?”
You couldn’t even answer. Couldn’t form a thought. Your voice was raw with whimpers and your tears stained the pillow as you arched back into him on instinct, chasing every brutal, perfect stroke.
He reached around and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back just enough to whisper against your jaw. “You talk big,” he hissed, thrusting deep, “but this pussy always tell the truth.”
You sobbed out a yes. Or maybe his name. Or maybe just a noise—because that’s all you were now. A body molded to his pace. A vessel of heat and ache and want. And then… He slowed again. But this time, his strokes were hard and measured. That had your eyes rolling and your teeth sinking into the pillow to stop yourself from screaming his name like a confession.
“You feel how deep I am?” he groaned, voice thick and low behind you. “You gon’ run your mouth next time a man so much as smiles at you?”
You shook your head quickly, biting down on your bottom lip as you wavered between reality and subspace.
“Use your words,” he demanded before landing hard smacks on your ass that turned your ebony skin bright red.
“No—no, Smo- Daddy! I won’t, I swear—” you gasped, voice choked and high.
“Damn right you won’t.”
He dragged you up by your waist, pulling your back against his chest, one arm wrapping across your ribs, the other snaking down to rub your clit in slow, punishing circles again.
“Let another nigga smile at you again in public and I’ma bend you over right then and there,” he whispered, biting your shoulder. “Make sure everybody knows who you belong to.”
You cried out again, the pleasure building faster than your body could handle. It was too much but you loved every second of it. And Smoke? He was relentless. Focused. Determined to etch his name into your skin, your bones, your fucking soul.
“You gon’ cum one more time for me,” he ordered, fingers working faster now. “And then I’ll think about lettin’ myself nut.”
You couldn’t even reply because your body was already shaking. Your walls were already spasming around his brutal rod. You felt your mind spiral into that place that only he could take you. The place where pride didn’t exist and control was something you gave him freely.
“Go on, baby,” he ordered. “Make my dick shiny. Cum for me.”
And you did. Harder than you’ve ever climaxed before. This orgasm felt spiritual like your soul kissed the feet of God before asking for forgiveness and traveling back into your human vessel. You screamed his name into the pillow like a secret finally confessed, your body convulsed, your legs collapsed beneath you as he held you upright, grunting through clenched teeth.
Smoke held you there, both of you trembling in the twinkling moonlight shining through the bedroom. Your back was slick against his chest, your breath short and stuttering. His arm was still banded tight across your stomach, the other gripping your thigh with bruising intensity, like he didn’t trust his body not to break you if he let it go free. You felt every inch of him—still deep, still pulsing, still holding on with that impossible restraint that made you ache in places words couldn’t touch.
“Fuck… Fuck… Don’t move,” he moaned, his voice cracking down the middle—low, rasped, and dangerous. “Don’t.”
You didn’t dare disobey your man. You were already trembling too hard, barely tethered to your body. Your face was damp with tears, your thighs quaking, your walls still fluttering in waves around him.
“Shit, baby…” he growled, his voice buried somewhere between awe and agony. “You tryin’ to milk me dry, huh?”
You whimpered. Not out of pain. But because you felt it—felt that slow-building quake start to rattle through him. The way his grip tightened. The way his hips stilled just for a beat too long. You felt the flex in his abdomen, the tension coiling at the base of his spine like a spring being wound to the brink of snapping.
Your last orgasm clenched down onto his dick perfectly and now he was close trying to fight against it. You turned your face slightly from the pillow, voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. “Why’re you holdin’ it in?”
Smoke gritted his teeth tightly. “‘Cause once I let go…” he hissed, “you ain’t gon’ be able to walk, let alone keep talkin’ shit like you ain’t mine.”
You shivered under him. “But I am yours,” you whispered, the confession slipping out with a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.
That broke him. Smoke let out a low, raw groan as his grip shifted. He grabbed your hips with both hands, holding you still as his restraint finally began to splinter.
“Say it again.”
“Smoke—”
“Say. It. Again.”
Your voice caught in your throat, but you gave it to him, every word thick with truth and heat. “I’m yours,” you breathed. “I’ve always been yours.”
He let out something between a moan and a curse as he started to move again. Each thrust was rough with purpose, his rhythm tight and controlled even as his body fought against itself for release. “I should’ve made you say that two days ago,” he murmured into your neck. “Could’ve saved us both a whole lot of trouble.”
You could feel him on edge now. His hands were shaking. His thighs flexed with every grind forward. His jaw locked. “Fuck, baby… you feel too good,” he rasped. “Too fucking good.”
You whimpered, barely holding yourself up as he rutted into you like it was the last thing he’d ever do.
“Where you want it?” he choked out, voice frayed and thick with hunger. His hand fisted the meat of your ass, keeping your hips tilted perfectly, helplessly open for him.
“Tell me. Right here?” he ground into you deeper—deeper—and your whole body jolted like he’d struck a nerve that reached your soul.
“Want me to fill this pretty pussy up?” he growled, hips snapping forward again, rough, rhythmic, merciless. “You want me to cum so deep you leak for days, huh? So every time you open your legs, you remember who the fuck owns it?”
You tried to answer, but your voice cracked around the sound of your own moan.
Your body was done. Shaking, oversensitive, strung out from back-to-back orgasms—but still hungry for him. Still desperate to take all of him, to feel the final blow. The one he’d been holding back since the minute he put his hands on you.
Smoke’s thrusts became heavier and it became obvious he was losing the reins. His grip on your hips turned bruising, and a deep, guttural snarl ripped out of him like it came from the base of his spine. “Answer me, baby! Where. You. Want. It?”
“Inside,” you cried, head buried in the sheets, hips bucking against him. “Please, Smoke, fill me up.”
Smoke roared before grabbing you by the back of your neck and forcing your chest flush to the mattress. His other hand yanked your ass back into him, hard enough to make your eyes roll. His body collapsed over yours, hot and massive and trembling as he began to pound into you like a man possessed. No more teasing. No more patience. Just raw, primal need.
“You fuckin’ take it,” he growled in your ear. “You take every drop. That’s mine. You hear me? Mine. This pussy… this whole fuckin’ body… you think I’m lettin’ it walk around untouched, unclaimed? Nah. Nah, baby. I’m leavin’ my fuckin’ mark.”
His thrusts were devastating now. Every stroke came with the full weight of his body. His hips snapped forward like punishment, his chest slick against your back, his voice a broken, dirty prayer in your ear.
“I can’t—” you gasped, sobbing against the sheets.
“Yes, you… can,” he growled, his voice deep and guttural, hips pounding harder now. “You will. You gon’ take every drop I give you… then lay here… and thank me for it like a good girl. Understand?”
You felt the tremor roll through his body as his thighs tensed, his back flexed, and the ragged stutter of his breath grew as he chased his own breaking point. He was close. So close. “Say it,” he demanded, his voice sharp as a razor. “Say you’re mine while I paint these walls. Say it with my dick buried in this pussy.”
You cried out, clawing at the sheets, tears streaking your face. “I’m yours, Smoke! I’m yours, please—cum inside me!”
With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself so deep you screamed, and then he moaned your name like it was the last word he’d ever say.
You were on the verge of slipping into unconsciousness when you felt Smoke’s hot and heavy load spilling into you in thick waves as his body seized behind you, every muscle locked in place. His nails dug into your hips as he held you there, stuffed full, claimed and ruined. His head dropped into your neck, his moan drawn-out, ragged, the sound of a man breaking as he finally gave in.
He stayed like that. Still pulsing inside you and panting. His lips grazed your skin, open-mouthed, breath hot. Then, after a long, heavy silence—he exhaled and murmured low, almost reverent: “Mine.”
And this time, you didn’t argue. Because your body? It agreed.
.
.
.
.
.
Authors Note: This was just a one shot to get all the horn horn energy out before I finish my series🥴🙂↕️ I understand mean Smoke isn’t for everyone but… HE IS VERY GORGEOUS TO MEEEE!!!
Summary: You meet Smoke while working as a paralegal on him and his brother’s case—just another client, another file. He’s older, unreadable, and far too composed for someone who makes you this nervous. Whatever’s between you shouldn’t exist, but the longer it lingers, the harder it is to ignore.
Most days your life is pretty simple, mundane and routine— go to class, go to work, and come home. Most people would look at your life and weep for more, but it’s perfect for you. You desire a simple life with peace— no partying, toxic relationships, or unnecessary drama.
This year you have branched out a bit in your classes and made a few friends, but nothing more than that.
The wind in New York has picked up with the temperature steadily dropping, definitely not the kind of weather that’s fit for office skirts and heels.
You dropped your cello off at your apartment and you wait outside to catch a cab. The streets are busy with people today, normally at this time they’re not as busy.
The scent of hot chocolate fills the air as people set up their stands outside for the upcoming holidays.
A cab pulls up to the sidewalk, waiting for you to get in.
You get in the car, adjusting in your seat.
“Where to?” The man asks while looking at you in the rear view mirror.
“Giordano law firm on fifth avenue.”
“Heard.” The man replies back with a nod.
You look out the window, staring at all of the Christmas decor that’s out. A certain part of it truly feels magical still as an adult.
Your cab ride takes about 40 minutes.
The security guards at the front door of the building greet you with a smile, one of them opening the doors for you.
The sound of your heels clicking echoes throughout the lobby.
You make your way to the elevator and press the button, just waiting for your stop— dreading the paperwork you’ll have to do today.
The bell dings and the doors open at the fifteenth floor, the receptionist waving at you as you walk into the office.
“Good afternoon!” You smile, waving as you walk past.
You walk into your office space, the door gently shutting behind you as you set your bags down and turn on your lamp.
The smell from your cinnamon candle that you lit days prior is still lingering.
Just as your computer starts to load up, your boss opens your door— peaking his head in.
“I sent over some files for you to look over, it’s for a new client I just accepted last minute.”
You turn towards him, your brows slightly furrowed.
He hangs his head in defeat. “I know, I know. Don’t kill me over it.”
“I’ll start looking it over, but I probably won’t be truly focused on it until tomorrow.”
He looks at his watch and bites his lip in fear.
“What?” You ask with your head tilted out of confusion.
“Actually, he’ll be here in an hour to discuss it with you..”
Your mouth drops in shock, “Tony..”
“I know, but he’s paying top dollar for us to represent him. You’ll get a raise for this too, I’ve already added it to your payroll.”
You turn back around, facing your computer and opening up your email.
“I’ll get to work on that.”
“Thank you so much! I knew I could depend on you.” He rants before shutting the door.
You scan through the email he sent—opening up all the documents and giving a quick glimpse through all of the information.
You pull out some of your sticky notes and jot down a few pivotal notes about what you noticed in the documents.
Time slips your mind as you're going over the information and printing out the paperwork.
Your office phone rings, it’s the receptionist letting you know that the client is here and waiting in conference room three.
“Shit.” You mumble.
You grab all of the paperwork and your sticky notes before leaving your office and heading to the conference room.
You walk into the room, still face deep into the paperwork and not looking up.
You sit down at the table, before glancing up.
You see two very handsome, identical men staring back at you.
You’d be lying if you said that it doesn’t catch you off guard, you stare blankly for a few seconds.
“Twins?” You ask, flipping through the papers.
“Nah, we cousins.” One of them jokes with a grin.
You let out a slight chuckle, you can appreciate the response.
“Which one of you is Elias Moore?”
The man sitting in front of you on the left nods his head.
You slide over a piece of paper and pen to him.
“That is the client contract that we have here. It just states that we expect total compliance and honesty from you as a client, if you cannot comply then we cannot adequately represent you— which gives us the legal right to drop you as a client.”
“It also tells you the retainer fee and how much he costs per hour..”
He signs the dotted line and passes the paper back to you.
You move it to the side and glance up at the other man beside him.
“What’s your name?”
He stares at you, his eyes slowly scanning every inch of your face.
“I’m Elijah, his brother and business partner.”
You nod, pulling off the cap of your pen to fill out a few of the pages.
“Are you part of the lawsuit?”
He shakes his head no.
“We also like to be called Stack and Smoke. I’m Stack and he’s Smoke” Stack chimes in.
You nod, but it’s definitely unlike anything you’ve heard of before.
“The paperwork says that you’re being sued for two million dollars, is that correct?”
He sighs, but nods his head.
“It says that you’re being sued for repudiation, in other words— you indicated that you’d abandon the project.”
Stack shrugs. “I mean, hell the motherfucker—“
Smoke nudges him, cutting him a look.
“My apologies for my language. He already told me that things were going wrong with the project, more money than usual needing to be dumped into it. So, yeah— I told him that we were pulling out.”
You write down his statements on the forms in front of you.
“Would you say that he didn’t hold up his end of the contract?”
“Yeah.” Smoke replies.
“How long was this project initially supposed to take?” You ask, looking up at both of them.
“Six months.” Stack replies.
“How long has it been as of today?”
“Twenty months.” Smoke hesitantly informs you.
You stop writing and stare at them— looking over your glasses as they sit on the bridge of your nose.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes ma’am.” Stack nods.
All you can do is shake your head as you write the information down.
“How long have you known the complainant?”
Stack takes the toothpick out of his mouth, “fifteen years.”
“Wow.. uh, that’s unfortunate that you ended up in this position.”
You finish jotting down a few more notes while the room is silent.
You glance at your watch on the table and start organizing your papers.
“Well gentlemen, I think that’ll be all I need from both of you today.”
They both stand up, adjusting their seats.
You grab all the papers, standing up and walking towards the door.
Stack takes a phone call as he holds the door open for both of you.
“Nice meeting both of you. I’ll be in touch, if we need anything.” You mention.
Smoke holds his hand out to shake yours.
You grab his hand giving it a firm shake, your eyes meeting his. He stares into your eyes, almost like time around you is stopping.
You’re barely able to notice him saying thank you with the way you’re enamored by him. His very presence, his voice, and his overall demeanor.
You let go of his hand, an intense feeling of embarrassment festering inside you.
The rest of your shift at the office has gone by smoothly and quicker than you expected.
You sit at the desk finishing up the emails you needed to send out and slowly but surely gathering your things.
The last email is sent, you power off your computer, turn off the lamp and grab your stuff to head out the door. Just as you walk to the door, your office phone rings and you debate not picking it up— but you do anyway.
“Hello, the office is currently closed right now—“
“It’s me, Elijah. I was calling to see if Stack could get your number in case he needs to get in contact with you for anything regarding the case.”
You hold the phone to your ear, barely processing what was said.
“Um, anything he’d need he could just call the office phone.”
“Well, what if it’s after hours or on a day y’all are closed?”
Your mind races trying to think on what would be the correct course of action, but you also think about how furious your boss would be if you said no.
You take a deep breath and slowly recite the number to your cell.
“Thank you, I’ll make sure to get it to him.”
“No problem, is that all you needed from me?” You ask.
“Yes.”
“Okay, we’ll be in touch if we need anything else.”
The line disconnects.
The next morning you get up and start your day early— you feed your cat Binx before you leave for class, barely leaving out in time.
You and your friend Lane are the first two people in the auditorium, killing time before class starts.
“You know, our firm just took on this pretty big case.” You mention.
Lane’s brow raises, “really? Is it a high profile one?”
You shrug your shoulders, unsure how to answer.
“I can’t really say, because I don’t know. I mean, it’s a lawsuit for two million dollars against these twins.”
“Twins? Men or women?”
You let out a laugh, nudging her. “Girl, you know I’m talking about men.”
She throws her hands up in defeat.
“Shit, I didn’t know.”
You both laugh, neither one of you taking anything serious. Y’all’s laughter echoes throughout the auditorium.
“Are they at least cute?”
You glance at her with a smirk.
Despite the fact that you don’t want to admit how fine they are, they are fine. The kind of fine that you see on tv, the kind that sounds made up.
“So, how’s it been at the firm? Is it stressful?” She questions.
You shake your head, shifting your weight and leaning against the wall.
“It’s been good. This firm does take a lot of high rollers, so there can be stress regarding that— but you get used to it. The cases themselves aren’t hard at all.”
She sips on her coffee, swirling it around. “I wish it was like that at the one I’m at, that firm is a hell hole.”
Your brow raises, “really?”
She nods. “Shitty boss, huge workload, underpaid, and doing a ton of work off the clock.”
“That’s a shame, truly. I was hoping that you’d like this one.”
She scoffs, “me too.”
You start to set up your cello as more people start coming in for class.
Today, you’re performing in front of the class for your final project. At the start of the semester, the professor assigns each student a different song to work on individually, and you perform it for him at the end for a grade.
Your palms start to sweat, just at the thought of messing this up.
One thing you don’t play about is school in general and your skill with playing the cello. You’re very proud of how good you are at playing and how your practice shows up when you perform—but now doubts are seeping into your head about how good you’ve practiced.
You take a deep breath, walking over towards Lane after you finish setting up.
She stares at you and the anxiety written all over your face.
“Are you nervous?”
You wipe your hands off on your pants, giving her a slight nod.
“I just.. I just hope that I practiced enough.”
Lane wraps her arms around you, bringing you closer.
“Don’t even sweat it, girl! You did more than enough and I’m sure you’re going to ace this.”
You hug her back, grateful for a friend like her.
The doors to the auditorium, everyone’s eyes meeting the noise.
Your professor Mr. Chang walks in with his clipboard, heading to the stage.
“Sorry, everyone for being late. I got caught up in a meeting.”
You adjust your shirt, leaning up against Lane.
Mr. Chang makes his way to the front of the auditorium, stopping at the steps right before you go on stage.
“I want to say that I’m very certain all of you have prepared greatly for this assignment. I know that all of you are nervous, some are even already asking about possible re-takes and we haven’t even started—“
“Just pretend that you’re alone and that this is your time to shine.”
He gestures for you to come over to him.
You share one last look with Lane before walking away.
He writes a few things on his clipboard before looking up at you.
“Are you ready?”
You take a deep breath, “it’s now or never.”
The lights in the auditorium dim as you walk onto the stage, the whispers and conversations between your peers coming to a halt.
Your heart races in your chest, your nervousness at an all time high.
You take your seat, waiting for further instruction.
There’s a brief pause before Mr.Chang looks up and gives you the go ahead.
You close your eyes like he suggested and begin to play as if you’re alone and in your own world. You imagine playing at a sold out opera house, people coming from near and far to see you.
All of your worries and fears vanish as you play.
Your bow feels weightless in your hand as it glides against the strings, gliding in a precise movement like it has a mind of its own.
Mr. Chang and the rest of the class watch you in awe.
You end the song on a note that makes everyone stand up to applaud you.
Your best friend Lane, smiling ear to ear.
You stand up from your seat, trying not to smile too hard.
Mr. Chang finishes his notes as he walks up the stairs beside you and onto the stage.
“Wow, um—“
“Your performance was one of the best that I’ve seen in a long time. You hit every note so effortlessly and with such intricacy. Well done.”
Your eyes get glassy from his words and the overall compliment of your performance.
“It should go without saying that you’ve received a hundred on your assignment. I’m blown away, truly and I think the rest of the class has pretty big shoes to follow after your performance.”
Your friend hugs you with a big grin as the class starts clapping again.
A few minutes later Mr. Chang dismisses class and you grab your stuff to leave.
Before you walk out the door, Mr. Chang runs up beside you and taps you on the shoulder.
“Can I speak to you for a minute?”
“Uh, sure.” You reply with a little confusion.
“You are by far one of my best students and I know how much you practice and study. I wanted to ask, are you interested in the tutoring program offered for my class?”
You stand there for a second and take in the question before coming up with a suitable answer.
“I had thought about it, but I’m just too busy for it. I never have enough time.”
He nods, fiddling with the clipboard.
“I just ask that you take time to consider it again, I think it could be very beneficial to you and your classmates.”
He walks away, leaving you with your thoughts and still reeling from the high of nailing your performance.
It paid off. All of the late nights practicing and studying was worth it.
You get outside, adjusting your jacket to the cold wind while you stand there waiting for a taxi.
The man pulls the cab in front of you, a bit away from the curb.
You get in, shaking from the coldness outside.
“Shit! It’s so cold outside.”
The man laughs, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Where to?”
“Park Avenue.”
Your taxi ride is quiet, just the low hums of the car and whatever radio station he has on. He drops you off where you asked and you walk into your apartment building.
Once you get inside and take your jacket and shoes off, you’re greeted by your cat Binx. She’s meowing at a very high pitch and walking in between your legs.
“I know, I know. I’m going to feed you in a second, I promise.”
Binx always acts like she’s starving if you don’t feed her at her exact time, even a minute later and she’s meowing like you’ve abandoned her.
You pull out her food that you had prepped before you left and scrape it into her bowl. You’re barely able to finish putting it in there before she’s diving in and eating it like you’re gonna take it away from her.
Once you’re finished with that, you sit down on the couch with a glass of wine and open your laptop to start working. Normally, you’d use this time to kick your feet up and catch up on tv— but this case is taking any free time you have left.
Reading all of the documents that you have available makes this case look anything other than winnable. You’re taking notes on it and sending out dozens of emails, but even then it still feels like he will end up paying out. Maybe with some luck, he won’t have to— but it’s up in the air.
You sip your wine as you type up an email to your boss, attach the files you’ve gathered, and let him know what you have so far and what you still need.
You also note that these documents might need extra verification before they can be submitted into the system.
You set your glass in the sink and toss the empty wine bottle, stepping away from your computer while you wait for a response.
Sitting at the computer and working while watching the sun set around you is blissful, something you enjoy more now than ever.
You sit back down on the couch and your computer dings, your boss responds.
He informs you that Elias is coming to the office tomorrow to talk about his assets. You reply back acknowledging the email, closing out all of your tabs, and turning off your laptop.
Now that your work is done, you spend the rest of your afternoon and night— catching up on Real Housewives of Atlanta and eating the Chinese takeout you ordered.
Your day doesn’t have to start early as it normally does, because you don’t have any classes today. You just have to report straight to the firm.
By 10:30 am you’re walking through the firm doors and heading to your office.
You put your lunch away in your mini fridge, adjust your blinds to the window, and light a candle before getting started.
The first four hours at work are filled with calls from people needing consultations, but the firm’s schedule is booked from open to close everyday. After the last consultation call, your boss comes into your office and tells you to close off the schedule for the remainder of the year. He says that it wouldn’t be feasible to continue taking on clients with his already huge caseload.
You update the company website to reflect that you’re no longer taking on new clients and you update the phone call system to update people there as well.
Your day has already been so busy non- stop and you can feel a headache coming on. You grab your lunch and eat some of the food you packed in hopes that it would make you feel better.
You eat what you can and put the rest away before you grab your paperwork and make your way to the conference room to wait on Elias.
You sit down at the table, checking your watch and making sure that you’re still on time.
A few minutes later both of them walk in the room to your surprise.
“Hello, Good afternoon.” You smile, shuffling through the papers.
They take a seat across the table.
“Afternoon.” Smoke nods.
You pull out a pen, glancing at the paper.
“So, you’re here today for us to discuss your assets—“
“Discussing your assets is a pivotal part of working a case, we need to make sure all bases are covered and to go over what would happen if you’d lose the case.” You mention.
Stack’s fingers tap the table, a sigh escaping his lips.
“We ain’t gotta worry about us losing, that shouldn’t be happening.”
You let out a laugh, not that he’s funny— but he’s too cocky for his own good.
“There’s always a possibility, unless you have stone cold proof of something that would invalidate the complainants claim.”
He sucks his teeth and Smoke cuts him a look.
“I’m going to go down this list of properties that you have listed, you let me know which you’d be willing to lose if you end up owing the two million.”
“The Colorado ranch?”
“No.”
“This isn’t a property, but you have a yacht listed.”
“No.”
“The penthouse near Times Square?”
“Hell nah.” He chuckles.
“The penthouse in Miami?”
“No.”
“The multi use building in Chicago?”
“Nope.”
You glance up with your brow raised and a slight smirk.
“If you’re not willing to give any of your properties up, then how will you pay? They will seize them if you’re uncooperative.”
“Cash.” Smoke chimes in.
You set the pen down on the table, leaning back in your chair with your fingers intertwined in your lap.
“Cash? You’re going to pay the two million dollars with cash?”
“Yes ma’am.” Stack replies.
You sit up in the chair and pick up the pen, jotting down the info.
You pass Stack a piece of paper and a pen.
“Write down the routing and accounting number to whichever account you’ll use.”
Smoke pulls out a cigarette, “can I smoke in here?”
“No, you may not.” You reply curtly.
He licks his lips, almost as if a grin is tugging at his lips.
Stack slides the pen and piece of paper back to you.
“Is it clean?” You ask.
“As a whistle.” Smoke replies.
“Alright then, I’ll get this to Tony and he’ll verify the funds. I will be back in contact, if we need anything else.” You inform them.
You stand up, adjusting your skirt and grabbing the papers off of the table.
“Gentlemen.” You nod.
They stand up, pushing their chairs back up to the table and watching you walk out of the room.
“My, my, my.” Smoke mumbles under his breath.
From the very first glance Smoke knew that he wanted you. The way you carry yourself, the way you speak, the way that you’ve been handling the case— every detail about you has caught his eye. Especially today, seeing you in the red blouse and the short black skirt. It did something to him.
He can no longer deny what he thinks of you, despite trying his hardest to.
When you talk, he listens and nothing else catches his attention. When you grin, a heat fills his chest. It’s like you’re in control of him.
It’s been a long time since he’s looked at anyone the way he’s looking at you.
He wants to get to know you, he has to for his own sanity.
Once you get back to your office, you have to sit down and take a deep breath. Despite so little interaction with Smoke, he lives in your mind.
You finish up filling out a few things and you’re about to wrap your day up. You’ve been so busy that hours have slipped past you while you’ve been working.
As you’re about to turn your computer off, you get a text.
“Can you meet me at a restaurant in Manhattan to discuss more details about the case? -E”
You have to read it a few times out of confusion, because there’s no reason that you’d have much to discuss. You’ve already gotten most of the documents needed, you discussed their assets, and you’ve gone over all pivotal information with Elias. You text him back, “Sure thing! Just text me the address.”
You were looking forward to going home and now you’re about to go to a restaurant and discuss more work related things.
Your phone dings with the information about the restaurant and what time you need to be there. You realize you still have time before needing to head there, so you decide to head home and feed your cat. The sun will be setting soon and she probably won't get her food on time once you go to the restaurant.
You take a thirty minute cab ride home to feed Binx really quickly, drop your stuff off, and then you’re back in another cab on your way to Manhattan.
Once the cab arrives at the restaurant, you’re ready for this to be over and hoping that he doesn’t have much to talk about.
The restaurant is fancy, it’s dimly lit and requires reservations.
You step inside by passing the line out of the door and walking to the staff at the counter. You let them know that you’re supposed to be meeting someone here. You’re not even able to finish your sentence before they’re telling you to follow them— they already know who you are and who you’re looking for.
They walk you back to a table in the back, against the window with a great view.
You’re greeted by Smoke at the table instead of Stack and the confusion is written all over your face.
“Hello.”
You sit at the table, taking your coat off and putting it behind the chair.
“Hi..”
“I thought Elias needed me here for paperwork?” You question.
“You are here for paperwork, but it’s me handling this instead of Stack.”
He hands you a manila envelope, “Get this to Tony. It’s for his eyes and his only.”
You nod and put the envelope in your purse.
He calls over the waiter and has them bring over a bottle of wine.
“Do you drink?”
You shrug, “occasionally.”
The waiter pours a red wine into your glass, asking Smoke if there is anything else he’d need.
“I’d also like an old fashioned.” He mentions.
The waiter smiles, “I’ll be right back with that.”
The soft jazz music plays in the restaurant from an actual live band in the corner performing it. This is the kind of restaurant you’d bring your lover or mistress, not a place for a business interaction.
“What’s the meaning of this?” You ask while taking a sip of wine from your glass.
“I want to get to know the person handling this case. I know Tony, but I don’t know you.”
You let out a scoff that’s just short of a laugh.
“There’s not much to know, I’m just the paralegal assigned to your case and nothing more.”
The waiter brings his drink to the table and two menus, before leaving the table promptly.
“That’s a corporate response if I’ve ever heard one.”
You open your menu, browsing through it and avoiding eye contact.
“Who are you really?” He pries.
You don’t respond leaving his question hanging in the air.
“Do you bring all the Paralegals that you meet out for dinner?”
He chuckles, rubbing his finger around the brim of the glass.
“Are you assuming that we’re always in legal trouble and in need of a paralegal?”
You look up from your menu, a smirk on your face.
“Hm.”
“You gonna answer my question?” He asks, his brow raised.
You push some of your hair out of your face and sit back in your chair, staring at him.
“I’m a paralegal that works for Tony Giordano and that also attends Julliard.”
“Interesting ..” he mumbles under his breath.
“Is there anything else that you want to know?” You ask with a hint of sarcasm.
He picks up his menu, reading through it and his eyes are still somehow lingering on you.
“What instrument do you play?”
“I play the cello. Also not everyone that attends Julliard is playing an instrument.”
“Good instrument.” He comments.
The waiter comes back to the table and takes both of your orders. You order the steak salad and he orders the grilled salmon and asparagus.
A silence lingers between the two of you, both of you unsure who should take the lead in the conversation.
“How do you know Tony?”
“I only know him, because I work for him. He posted an ad for the job, I applied and I was selected—“
“How do you know him?”
He finishes his drink, almost like he’s buying time with his answer.
“Business.”
“Hmm. What do you and your brother do?”
“We own a few nightclubs and a few businesses.”
You finish the wine in your glass.
“So, what did the two of you actually do in order to get sued for two million?”
He gives you a breathy laugh, shocked by your straightforwardness.
“You’d make a fantastic lawyer, straight to the heavy hitting questions.”
The waiter comes back bringing another old fashioned and filling your glass with wine again.
“It’s not a heavy hitting question. Most people aren’t sued too quickly for breach of contract, not in this manner. The complainant doesn’t even want to settle, he wants a trial. You guys seriously pissed him off.”
He shrugs his shoulders, “we handled the situation way better than most would have.”
The waiter brings your food out and it looks absolutely delicious, Smoke digs in and so do you.
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
You glance up in shock. You finish chewing your salad, taking your time with answering.
“Do I have a what?”
“You heard me.”
You squirm in your seat a little, your heart beating faster.
“I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m not sure what that has to do with me being the paralegal working on your case though.”
“I just didn’t want to step on any toes with this dinner.” He points out.
You swirl your wine around in the glass before taking another sip. This dinner wasn’t what you were expecting and that’s okay, but this man has you feeling things that you shouldn’t be feeling for a client..
The wine is making your body feel warm and tingly, the sensation carrying its way through your body.
Your eyes follow his every movement, including the way his tongue drags across his bottom lip after he takes a bite of his food.
“What are the chances that we walk away clean?”
You wipe your mouth with a napkin, trying to figure out a way to give him a genuine answer.
“Hm—“
“If you gave any solid evidence in that folder then you’ll have a chance, if not then you’ll probably end up losing.”
You finish the wine in your glass— feeling full and like your stomach could burst.
You catch a glimpse at your watch. “Shit, it’s getting late and I have to get home.”
You pull out your wallet and he puts his hand out, stopping you.
“Nah, you’ll never have to worry about a tab with me.”
He puts three hundreds on the table and stands up— putting his coat on and walking over to help you put yours on.
“Thank you for dinner, it was lovely and it was nice getting to speak to you.”
You turn to walk away and he grabs your hand catching you off guard.
“I can give you a ride, I’ll have my driver drop you off.”
He guides you through the restaurant, holding your hand.
You both get outside, standing side by side and no longer holding hands.
A blacked out Escalade pulls up and a driver gets out of the car, coming to the passenger side and opening the door for you.
“Ms.” The driver smiles.
You get in and Smoke gets in on the other side.
Once the driver is in, you tell him your address. You sit back, enjoying the warm and comfortable ride to your apartment.
There isn’t any talking going on between you two during the ride, Smoke is taking a few calls and you’re just trying to relax.
After what feels like a while in the car, the driver pulls in front of your apartment building and he comes to open the door for you. As you get out, you adjust your skirt and turn to thank Smoke for the dinner.
He gives a nod and waves at you, still on the phone.
The driver shuts the door and you walk into the building.
When you get inside your apartment, you kick your heels off and collapse onto your couch. Your day has been busy and non-stop, normally you’d be exhausted and ready for bed— but after that dinner he’s all you're thinking about.
Not that you’d ever end up with him, but he was interested in you and in what you do. It’s never happened before, it feels like the stuff you see in movies.
Maybe, you’re reading too much into it and it was just simply a professional dinner— but there’s nothing professional about the way he makes you feel.
After a long and hot shower, you get into bed and try getting some rest.
When you wake up the next morning, you complete your usual routine— but this time instead of getting ready for work or class, you’re going to a Pilates class. You don’t attend as much as you used to, but when you need something to clear your mind— you immediately book a class.
The class is an hour and thirty minutes long, which is exactly what you need. More time focusing on yourself and your body instead of him.
On your way home, you get a call from your boss and he asks you to come in.
You rush home, shower, and change into your work attire. Barely enough time to do all of that, before you’re in a taxi and on your way to work.
Once you get into your office— you sit down and sign into your computer to get started on your work.
There’s a knock at your door. You turn in your seat to see a delivery man standing there holding flowers.
“I was told these are for you.”
You accept them and sit them down on your desk.
“These are beautiful, who sent them?” You mumble to yourself.
You read the card.
“Thank you for joining me for dinner last night. I had a wonderful time.”
You’re grinning ear to ear, unable to hide it.
You really felt that maybe you were reading into things too much or that you were being delusional, but maybe he does share the same attraction that you do. Why else would he have twenty four roses delivered to your office?
You get back to focusing on work and you send a few emails out, but that’s interrupted when your boss calls you to his office. At first you’re worried that he somehow found out about the dinner, but instead it was him thanking you. He thanked you for being so patient and understanding with the case load you’ve had lately. He also informs you that you’ll be getting a Christmas bonus, which makes you really happy to hear. You could use it for so many things and you’ve earned it with all of the late nights within the last few months.
You get back to your office and you’re almost jumping for joy at his praise for you and your work.
You take a quick break, searching a few things on your computer and you send an update email to Stack— letting him know that he has a court date for the case coming up in two weeks.
Lunchtime is approaching, so you grab your bag and head down the street to a local Mexican restaurant.
You wait for Lane to arrive.
She meets you at the restaurant a few minutes later.
“Hey!”
“Hey, girl!” You laugh, giving her a quick hug as she sits down.
“How have you been?”
You sit back down in your seat, scooting closer to the table.
“I’ve been good, just busy working and practicing as usual. How are you?”
She laughs, pushing her hair behind her ear.
“Shit, stressed. I’m not ready for my performance, at least I don’t feel ready. I don’t think I’ve practiced enough.”
You scoff, waving her off. “You damn near practice just as much as I do, you’re more than ready.”
“What if I mess up?”
“Then you take a deep breath and continue through your performance, you got this and you know you do.”
The waiter comes to your table and takes y’alls orders, both of you already knowing what you want. You both order taco salads and a margarita.
“So, how’s the case doing?” She asks, eyes focused on you and your body language.
“It’s going about how you’d expect it to, very up in the air.”
The waiter brings the margaritas to the table and a few napkins.
You sip on yours, looking around the room.
“What about the client?” She pries.
You try to keep from smirking and you continue to look around the room.
“What about him?”
“Girl, don’t be coy with me. You already know what I’m talking about.”
You both laugh.
“I mean they’re both fine, but the oldest twin was the one that caught my attention.”
She sips on her margarita, a smile on her face.
“Okay, I see you.”
You shake your head, still downplaying your attraction to him.
“He’s technically a client and I’d never cross that line.”
The waiter brings out your food and both of you waste no time before saying a quick prayer and digging in.
“Do you think you’d ever consider it, if he was interested?” She questions, taking another bite of her food.
“Um, still no. He’s very handsome, but I’d like to maintain that level of professionalism between us. He’s also way older than me and I just don’t have time for that.”
Lane eyes you and just nods her head to your answer. She knows you like the back of her hand and it’s very clear that she doesn’t buy it.
Part of what you said is true, you don’t have time for that. You’re not interested in any type of fling between a man, you have school and work to worry about.
Does he interest you? Yes, but blurring that line between client and anything else is always a terrible idea.
“Well, if you’re genuinely not interested in him— send him my way. I need an older man in my life.” She giggles.
You fake a smile, but you know damn well that you want him all for yourself.
Lunch wraps up about twenty minutes later as both of you have to get back to work. You cover both tabs, give her a hug and start your walk back to the office. On your way to the office, your boss calls you and tells you that he closed early. He has a family emergency and told you that you’re off for the rest of the day with pay.
You get a cab back home, excited to have a free afternoon.
Once you’re home you immediately kick your shoes off and get ready to start practicing with your cello. Lately, work has had most of your time and you haven’t spent nearly enough time practicing.
Playing your cello gives you a sense of comfort and peace, it’s the one thing you’re truly dedicated to. You were taught how to play at a young age and you’ve held that close to you ever since.
You look over your notes from class and the music sheets that Mr.Chang gave everyone. Now that the class concert is a week away— you need to be practicing even more and harder than you did before.
You sit in your chair near the window, in complete silence and you begin playing.
The sound flowing through your apartment is like something magical.
You’re in your own world when you play—free from all thoughts, worries, and fears.
Hours pass by while you’re playing, before you finally decide to be done for the afternoon and take a break.
You put your cello away, feed Binx, and sit down on the couch— opening your laptop to check your emails.
The sunset glow from outside shines through the window, casting your shadow on the wall.
You finish a few correspondence emails, hoping for fast responses— but you’re not holding your breath. You come across an email from the complainant's attorney. You open the file in the email only to realize that it’s a clear as day recording of Stack threatening the complainant.
Your skin is hot and mouth agape. This is bad, really bad.
You immediately pick up the phone and dial Tony— after a few rings he picks up.
“Everything okay?” He asks.
You sigh, pacing around your apartment.
“We have a problem, a big one.”
You can hear multiple voices in the background, sounding like he’s out to eat.
“Spill it.”
“I.. I just got an email with a clear recording of Stack threatening the complainant.”
It’s completely silent on the other end.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He replies, his voice raised.
“Unfortunately, I’m not. I’m not sure what to do.”
You can hear the anger slipping through his words.
“Get that motherfucker on the phone, we need to talk!”
You anxiously bite your lip,”I will and I’ll let you know what he says.”
The line disconnects after this.
You feel like burying your head in sand, this couldn’t possibly get any worse. It makes you look bad, like you haven’t been doing your job.
After some hesitation and even more pacing around your apartment, you pick your phone up and text Smoke.
“What’s your address?”
You feel like you could throw up once you see that the text was sent.
He responds back immediately with no questions and just sends his address.
Twenty minutes later, you put your heels on, grab your jacket, and rush downstairs. You get outside to catch a taxi, but you’re met with two blacked out Escalades parked on the sidewalk.
A man approaches you, the driver of one of the vehicles.
“Hi, ma’am. My name’s Jabari and I was sent to pick you bring you to Mr. Moore.”
You’re too stunned to speak, you just follow Jabari to the car and get in the backseat.
The drive is quiet outside of the subtle radio station that was playing. After a little bit, the cars pull up the curb of this fancy building.
Jabari helps you out of the car and you hesitantly walk through the front doors of the building, greeted by the security at the desk.
“The elevator will take you straight to floor twenty where he’s at.” The older gentleman grins.
You’re in awe at the building. It’s beautiful and very detailed. You could only ever dream of owning a penthouse in this building, maybe if you won the lottery.
The elevator dings and the doors open up to you being inside his house.
He’s standing in the kitchen when you walk in, leaning against the counter in a white tank and grey sweatpants.
“Glad you made it.”
You walk towards the kitchen— your eyes scanning the space and view from the ceiling to floor windows.
“What did I tell you two in the very beginning?” You scold him.
He grabs two bottles of water from the fridge, sliding one across the counter to you.
“Tell us about what?” He replies.
“Complete compliance and total fucking honesty.” You remind him, anger fueling your voice.
You push play on the recording that you saved to your recording device.
He listens and doesn’t have much of a reaction, almost like he knew about this the entire time.
“Why wasn’t I told about this?”
“I didn’t think that this would come into play, but if Tony goes through that file I gave you— that won’t matter.”
“Tony is just the figurehead for your case. I do all of the work! Me and only me. The information that I get is vetted and then it goes to him. If you can’t be honest with me and give the information to me, then I can’t properly do my fucking job. If I can’t do my job, then I get in trouble.” You yell.
He walks around the counter, standing closer to you— leaning against it and keeping his focus on your face.
“You won’t get fired or anything like that.”
“How do you know that? Huh?”
“Cause If he fires you, then he’d lose us as clients and we’d follow you wherever you went.”
You lose your train of thought when he says that, all the anger and annoyances leaves your body in an instance.
“I just need to know if there’s anything else, or I’ll recommend that Tony drop your case.”
You turn away to start walking back towards the elevator.
“Have a goodnight Mr. Moore.”
You’re barely able to finish your sentence, before he’s grabbed you and pulled you into him.
He kisses you— deep, slow, and tender. He takes his time.
His thumb brushes your cheek and you melt into him.
You pull away, ending the kiss and it’s the last thing you want to do.
“We.. shouldn’t.” You mumble.
His thumb is still caressing your cheek and his eyes staring into yours.
“Why not?”
Even with a million reasons why, you struggle to say any.
“Use your words.” He coaches.
You feel your heart skip a beat.
“We should keep things professional.”
He pushes you back against the counter, his hands wandering your body. You feel his hand caressing your upper thigh and making it’s way lower and lower.
The heat in your stomach is rising and the wetness is pooling between your legs.
His hand brushes up against your panties and you feel weak.
The way he’s rubbing your thighs and in between your legs, it’s very clear that he’s methodical with how he likes to tease. He wants to drive you crazy before he’s even done much.
He kisses the side of your cheek, sprinkling kisses down your face and onto your neck.
“Tell me to stop, especially if you want this to stay professional.”
You should want this to stay professional, he’s a client for crying out loud. This kind of behavior could cause you to lose your job, but even with that in mind you can’t fix your lips to tell him to stop.
He tears your panty hose, like it’s something he’s done plenty of times before.
His fingers slowly rubbing you through your panties before he pushes them to the side.
He starts kissing you again, his tongue gliding against yours and making your mouth its home.
He slides his fingers in between your folds, not too fast and not too slow— but just right.
Your hand grips the counter and your eyes roll back into your head.
Something so wrong shouldn’t feel so right.
Your chest rising and falling fast, moans spilling out of your mouth and into his as you suck his tongue.
A grunt leaves his mouth.
Your slick coats his fingers as he rubs your clit.
“Fuck.”
His finger slides down from your clit and he slowly presses it inside of you.
You gasp, “Smoke.”
“Mhmm..”
He pumps his finger in and out of you, the knot in your stomach building.
“You’re so needy.” He groans.
Your grip on the counter tightens.
He pulls his finger out, catching you off guard.
It’s glistening in the light, before he sucks it clean.
He brings his fingers close to your mouth, “spit.”
You spit on his fingers, your eyes tracking his every move.
He rubs your clit and then slowly pushes two fingers in.
“Oh, my.. fuck.” You moan.
He pumps his fingers in and out of your pussy, making sure that you’ll never forget him or this.
It feels better than you could’ve ever expected.
You’re barely able to hold on, your toes curling in your heels.
You kiss him on his neck, almost making him lose focus.
A few seconds later, you cum hard— harder than you ever have.
He gives you a quick kiss, pulling his fingers out and directing you to his bathroom.
You stand there in the mirror in disbelief, wondering if you’re dreaming— because there’s no way that just happened.
You pull your ripped panty hose off and toss them in the trash.
When you come out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he’s drinking some water.
“I’m going to go. I’ll make sure to talk to Tony and see if he looked over the stuff in the envelope.”
He tilts his head, “you good?”
You nod and press the button waiting on the elevator.
His drivers drive you home and the entire ride all you can think about is how you’re an idiot. Messing around with a client is wrong and beyond a bad look, you know better— and you shouldn’t have let it happen regardless of how you feel.
It’s been a few days since the interaction between you and Smoke, you haven’t heard from him and at first it bothered you— but now you’ve written him off.
It is what is and you have more important things to worry about anyway.
It’s almost time for your class performance— the concert hall is packed with faculty, family, and friends.
Mr. Chang stands on the stage, facing all of you.
“You guys have come so far and you’ve worked very hard to get to this point. I can’t wait for everyone to see how much time and effort you’ve put into this.”
He gives a thumbs up and the curtains behind him rise.
You take a deep breath, trying not to let the number of people sitting in the building make you nervous.
Two minutes later you guys begin and continue playing for the next hour and fifteen minutes. Everything goes great— there were no mistakes or off key notes. It went just as you’d hoped and it went by so quickly that you couldn’t even tell that you had just performed for an hour.
The crowd gives a standing ovation lasting for ten minutes— a crowd of two hundred people that are blown away and proud of every single one of you.
Once the clapping is done, while you’re still sitting in your seats— a photographer comes on stage and takes a few pictures of you guys. Right after that you’re able to pack your instrument and go into the crowd to meet the people you invited.
You pack your cello, taking it to the back and wiping off your sweaty hands.
The concert hall hums with laughter and voices overlapping.
You walk down towards the seats and meet your friend Lane who runs up and gives you a hug, slightly lifting you off the ground.
“I’m so fucking proud of you, you did fantastic.” She laughs.
You have a smile on your face that no one can take away.
“I was so nervous, I’ve been nervous about this concert since I was picked for it.”
She grabs your hand. “You just saw and experienced why you had no reason to be nervous.”
You guys walk around— mingling with other friends and posing for pictures.
“Are you ready to go?” She subtly whispers in your ear as you smile and wrap up a conversation.
You nod.
You and her walk to the door, laughing and talking about nothing.
Just as you’re about to walk out the door, Smoke walks up to holding a bouquet of pink roses.
“You did good, real good.”
Lane eyes you, “is this him? My god.”
He hands you the roses, “can I talk to you for a minute?”
You hold the roses and roll your eyes, “no.”
Lane nudges you.
“Well, girl— I’m about to go home. I’ll call you later, love ya!”
“Love you too!”
You move around him, continuing to walk towards the exit.
He nudges you, guiding you into the hallway on the side that’s away from the doors.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going home, Smoke—“
“I haven’t heard from you at all since I last seen you and you have the nerve to show up to a concert that I didn’t tell you about or invite you to?”
“I wanted to see you play.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to maintain your composure.
“What do you want from me? You got what you wanted, is that not enough?”
He frowns, his shoulders pulled back.
“What I wanted?”
“You couldn’t even begin to handle what I want.” He scoffs.
“Try me.” You reply.
He grabs your hand and leads you outside to his cars, you climb in and so does he. The driver takes you to his building, opening the door for you.
Smoke grabs your hand and leads you into the building.
“What up, Gerard?”
The security guard smiles, giving him a nod of approval.
As you get in the elevator waiting for his floor, he grabs your roses.
“Take your shoes off by the door and hang your coat on the rack.”
The elevator dings and he walks ahead of you, he sets the flowers on the counter and disappears down the hallway.
You take your shoes and coat off— wandering the kitchen and into the living room.
The view of the city below from his windows is breathtaking. You stare down below at the busy city streets and the people walking.
Smoke calls your name from a room down his hallway.
You walk down the hall— taking your time and admiring the paintings.
You approach the room and the door is cracked. The room is mostly black with hints of red and dimly lit.
He stands in the middle of the room on a red mat, his white shirt slightly unbuttoned and showing off his chest.
“Come here.”
You walk over, eyes scanning the room— but you’re unable to tell what’s what.
“Smoke, what’s the—“
He grabs your chin and presses a quick kiss to your lips.
“Sit on your knees.”
Instead of asking more questions, you do it. Almost like it came naturally.
He walks around you and places a blindfold over your eyes.
All you can hear are his feet shuffling against the floor.
“I’m not your ordinary man.”
You feel a light and ticklish sensation on your arms and neck that makes you squirm, unable to pinpoint what it is or what he’s doing.
“I require submission, full submission when it comes to sex.”
Your breath hitches in your chest. This is far what you were expecting from him.
You feel a cold metal sensation against your right arm.
“I am what’s considered a sadist.”
Your eyes widen under the mask, but before you can say anything he continues to talk.
“Don’t worry, it’s only for pain in a sexual regard. Never anything outside of that and never anything that isn’t agreed upon beforehand.”
You can hear his feet circling around you on the mat and what you presume to be leather tassels moving along your body.
“Stand up.”
You stand up without even thinking twice.
“Take one step forward.”
You take one step.
Giving someone else this kind of control in the bedroom should scare you, but instead you’re interested— turned on even.
His lips brush against yours, his breath warming your cheek.
“If you want anything with me, you have to submit to me.”
“Are you gonna submit to me?—“
You nod, lips slightly parted and heart rate picking up.
He brushes your face with his hand.
“Good.”
He pulls the mask off of your face, scanning your face for any unsavory reaction. You stare back at him with admiration and want.
He grabs your hand and leads you back into the living room, shutting the door behind him.
You walk into the kitchen and see two women in uniform standing there.
“This is Marcielle and Dana, they’re my help around here. They’re like family to me, you never treat them any differently. They speak Spanish and English. They’re here if you need anything when I’m not around.”
He starts adjusting his shirt, buttoning it up.
“I’m about to go to handle some business, I can drop you off or you can stay and make yourself at home.”
You’re still trying to wrap your head around everything that he just did, but you tell him to drop you off.
In the car you’re sitting closer to him this time, trying to figure out where you go from here.
“So, does this make you my man? Or what?” You ask, breaking the silence.
His driver Jabari glances at you in the mirror and raises up the tinted glass window in between the front and back.
“Do you want to be my woman?”
You lick your lips, trying to hide your expression and you let the question linger without a response. This definitely would be a unique start to a relationship.
Jabari pulls up at your apartment, getting out and coming to open your door.
Before you get out of the car, smoke grabs your hand. You look back at him and he pulls you into a kiss, a kiss where he’s letting you know that you’re his.
“I’ll see you later, baby.”
You get out of the car and your stomach is in knots from excitement and disbelief of everything that’s happened. Being with him was just a fantasy, something that in your mind was unattainable.
You walk into your apartment— picking up Binx, who was waiting patiently for you at the door and for you to give her some attention. When you bent down to pick her up, a card fell out of your coat pocket.
A black Amex with a sticky note on it.
“For you.”
You pick up your phone, texting him and figuring that it must be a mistake.
“Did you mean to put a card in my pocket?”
He texts you back immediately.
“Yes. Your own personal card, it has no limit. Get anything you need.”
“Also, buy something nice for dinner tonight.”
You shriek, dancing around your living room while you hold Binx..
This feels like a dream.
You change into another dress in the private dressing room, while Lane stands there admiring herself in the mirror.
“Wait, so let me get this straight— all of this stemmed from the dinner you had with him?”
You adjust the dress, trying to figure out if it’s even worthy of bringing out to show her.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
You zip up your dress and pull the curtain, walking out to show Lane.
“That’s cute on you. It shows off your curves without being too revealing and it’s the perfect length.”
You stare in the mirror, adjusting the dress. “I thought so too.”
“Did you fuck him?” She asks, downing the rest of her champagne.
“Girl, what? Hell no!”
“He only fingered me.” You giggle.
“Oh, my bad! You only let him play with your cat. I’ll try to be more correct next time.” She mocks.
“Thank you, boo.” You reply back with the same level of sarcasm.
“Do you want some more champagne?” She asks, holding the bottle.
You shake your head no and walk back into the dressing room, pulling the curtain behind you.
“I wouldn’t have believed you if I hadn’t seen him for myself. A mysterious rich man, who randomly wants you like this and gives you a card with no limit— sounds made the hell up.” She laughs.
You pull the curtain back, coming out in only your bra and panties.
“Can you hand me that shirt and skirt?”
She walks over grabbing it and handing it to you.
“Damn, did you buy that set for him?”
You pull your shoulders back, a laugh escaping your throat.
“No. I bought this awhile back, I thought it was cute.”
“He will too.” She smirks, doing a humping motion.
You put on the blouse, shaking your head.
“You’re a mess.”
She looks through the dresses and skirts that you have picked out.
“What are you going to do when it’s time to put out?”
You peek your head out from behind the curtain.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, let’s see— checks notes, oh that thing about you being a virgin.”
You shrug, stepping back behind the curtain and putting the skirt on.
“I don’t like this.” You mumble, looking at yourself in the mirror.
Lane did have a good point, what are you going to do when he wants to have sex? You haven’t quite thought it all the way through and you aren’t too sure that you’d even want him to be your first.
You put your clothes back on, hanging up the pieces that you didn’t want in the dressing room.
You pull the curtain back, walking over to grab the clothes that you have set aside.
“Are you taking this thing between you and him serious?”
“As serious as he’s taking it. This is probably something to kill time for him.”
She nods, “you might be right.”
You get to the counter and the woman rings up your items.
“Your total is $4,567.21”
You almost feel as if you’re sweating bullets when you swipe the card, waiting to see if the purchase is approved or declined.
The transaction goes through, lifting an invisible weight off of your chest.
“Alright, here you go. Your receipt is in the bag.” The woman smiles.
You take the bag and start to walk away, “thank you!”
You both walk into the parking lot, gossiping about some stuff that happened on campus. You hug each other and go your separate ways.
“Let me know how tonight goes.”
“I will!” You shout.
You make one last stop before going home, you get your nails and toes done.
When you finally walk through your apartment door you have a sigh of relief. Putting the bags down and sitting down on your couch..
Your phone dings, a text from Smoke.
“A car will be outside waiting to pick you up in two hours. See you soon.”
You feel tingly inside reading his text, getting excited.
You feed Binx first, then you move on to taking a quick shower, picking out an outfit, putting on a small amount of makeup, and adding a few loose curls to your hair before pinning it up.
By the time you finish up, you’re damn near running late.
You put some more water in Binx’s water fountain and blow the candle in the kitchen out, before walking out the door.
You get downstairs and get in the Escalade that’s waiting for you.
The car smells just like a black ice air freshener.
You send a quick text to Lane, “heading there now. Wish me luck!”
The car ride is about thirty minutes or so.
You arrive there, heading in and seeing that the restaurant is completely empty.
He’s waiting for you at a table in the back.
He stands up, helping you get your coat off and giving you a kiss.
“You smell good and you look good.” He mentions.
“Thank you.”
He already has a bottle of wine at the table waiting for you.
“Where is everyone?” You ask him— looking around for anyone that’s not staff.
He pours wine into your glass, "I rented this out for us. I wanted to spend some time out with you, without the worry of other people.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.”
You take a sip of your wine, your eyes widening. “This is really delicious.”
“I see that you spent almost forty six hundred dollars today.”
You shift in your seat— “I’m sorry, was that too much?”
He laughs. “ Don’t apologize, I told you that you could get whatever you wanted.”
The waiter brings two menus and places them on the table.
“Tell me more about yourself.”
You glance up, holding your menu. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
You laugh, tilting your head and simultaneously looking at the menu.
“Hmm—“
“I’m a middle child and I have three sisters. I graduated high school at the top of my class and I will finish college at the top of my class. I have a black cat named Binx. I’ve been playing the cello since I was a child and I want to travel the world one day.”
He nods, “okay.”
“Pretty straight forward.” He mutters.
You put down your menu after figuring out what you want.
“It’s your turn, tell me about you.”
You follow up with a question before he can figure out where to start.
“Have you done this before?”
“This exact thing, like with you?”
You shake your head yes, sipping on more of your wine.
“No.”
“Are you married? Have you ever been married?”
“No and no.”
“Do you have any kids?”
“No.”
The waiter interrupts the conversation, coming to your order.
You order the stuffed shells and he orders the steak Alfredo.
He turns in his chair.
“There is something we have to go over.”
You raise your brow, putting down your glass.
“What’s that?”
“In order for this to continue, you have to sign an nda with my attorney. I will pay for you to get your own, so that they can be there to go over it with you. The nda is a non- negotiable, it’s something that has been carefully drafted.”
You nod your head, you don’t have much to say or ask about that.
“Are you on birth control?”
You finish your glass of wine and shake your head no.
“Well, that’s a non- negotiable as well. I don’t care what kind you’re on, you just have to be on some form in order for this to continue. If that’s not your cup of tea, that’s fine. I won’t force you, but this will stop right now. The last thing I need is you getting pregnant.”
“Okay.”
The rest of the dinner is kind of a blur, not because you don’t remember it— you were so focused on everything else that was mentioned prior. There’s nothing wrong with the nda, he’s making sure that he protects himself. Birth control and nda? Maybe this is something that’s just fun for him, maybe you did get the wrong impression.
When he drops you off, the car ride was silent. You were really withdrawn, not inherently upset— but you feel like an idiot for thinking it could be a real thing.
You got into your apartment— kicked your shoes off, took off your dress, and got into the bed.
This morning you slept in, you were exhausted from last night and could use the extra sleep. After making oatmeal and feeding Binx, you sit on the couch and catch up on some tv.
Your phone dings.
“You’ll be picked up at three to meet my attorney and your attorney will be waiting for you there. I won’t be there, but after that I’d like for you to come over. If you want.”
You read it and set your phone back down beside you, continuing to eat your oatmeal.
You spend the next few hours just laying there on the couch, watching tv as the hours go by.
At two, you get up to take a quick shower and to get ready. You almost feel like bailing on the meeting altogether, but you don’t.
Once you’re dropped off at the building, you go inside to the third floor where you’re greeted by your attorney— Mrs. Mathers.
She shakes your hand.
“Nice to meet you. I’m here to represent you and your interests, although this nda is a non- negotiable I’m here to make sure that it’s reasonable and that you’re not forced to sign.”
“Thank you, I wasn’t sure how this would work.” You point out.
“If you do not agree to the terms today, then it’s up to you and Mr. Moore to figure out the best course of action and where to go from here.”
Both of you walk into the room and sit at the table with his attorney, Mr. Dempsey.
“I’m here today to go over the non disclosure agreement that Mr. Elijah Moore is presenting you with.”
You fidget with your rings, your nervousness getting the best of you.
“Part of this agreement is acknowledging the kind of private information that you wouldn’t be allowed to share.”
He passes you the papers for you to look at and read as he goes down the list.
He sits up in his seat, coughing to clear his throat before speaking.
“With this agreement— you will not be allowed to disclose the following things to other parties without his approval and if you don’t get his approval, then you cannot share this information.”
You nod as your attorney takes the papers, flipping through them.
“You cannot disclose how much Mr. Moore makes, how much money you receive from him, or when you receive it from him. You also cannot disclose his address or any addresses of any properties he owns.”
He flips the page.
“You may not disclose anything related to his sexual behaviors, desires, or traits. You may not disclose any disparaging remarks about him on the internet and in general, if you two were to ever break up.”
“You also cannot disclose any information about the company that he keeps or his personal family business.”
Mr. Dempsey passes you a pen.
You turn to your attorney, waiting to hear anything she has to say.
“In my opinion I’d say that this is a pretty standard agreement, I figured it would be worse. Do you have any questions about it?”
You tug at the sleeves of your shirt, “no. I’m willing to sign it.”
Mr. Dempsey puts another contract on the table.
“This is the second part of the contract that is not a non disclosure agreement, this is just a simple contract agreement over the rules of this relationship.”
He slides a copy to you and Ms. Mathers.
“In this agreement, you acknowledge that you will get on birth control within thirty days of signing this. You also acknowledge that Mr. Moore has talked to you about this matter before coming here.”
“That’s interesting.” Your attorney mumbles to herself.
“If you sign this agreement and do not get on birth control within the allotted time and you were fall pregnant— you acknowledge that Mr. Moore would terminate the relationship with you and that he would terminate his parental rights.”
“Wow, what a man.” Ms. Mather mutters.
“By signing this contract you acknowledge and agree that if Mr. Moore was to buy you a property, vehicle, or company in the duration of this relationship — that those assets would be returned to him if the relationship is terminated.”
“You also acknowledge and agree that you are not entitled to any of Mr. Moore's assets should this relationship be terminated. You would leave with what you came with.”
“This last part is that by signing this contract that you acknowledge and agree, that your financial obligations are merely your own. If Mr. Moore decides to give you any money towards them, then that is a gift and nothing more. You acknowledge that if the relationship were terminated, then it is on you to maintain those obligations.”
Your jaw tenses as Mr. Dempsey finishes reading.
You get a few minutes to deliberate with your attorney, discussing the details and you ultimately agree to sign the nda and the contract.
Once the meeting is finished, you head outside and get into the car— riding to Smoke’s place.
Once you get to his building and get inside, you find him staring out the window— finishing up a phone call.
He wraps it up pretty quickly and approaches you, going in for a hug— but you move.
He frowns, “what’s wrong?”
“I went to the meeting with your attorney, that’s what’s wrong.”
“You’re a fucking liar! There’s no way in hell that you haven’t done this before, based off of the contracts and the wording of them in general. All of this is one big fucking exchange for you.”
His eyes widen, he stands there with his hands in his pockets.
“Pregnancy clauses and bullshit, none of this is about finding a potential solid relationship. It’s an arrangement and I was too stupid to see it.” You yell.
His brow raises, “you done?”
Your chest rises and falls fast, studying his reaction— but he doesn’t have much of one.
He walks behind you and helps you take your coat off, placing it on the hook by the elevator.
“Take your shoes off.” He demands.
You step out of them, no longer angry— but now anxious based on his reaction.
He walks to the coffee table, grabbing the remote that adjusts the blinds. The blinds start coming down, making it dark in the room.
“Smoke, I..”
He comes behind you and places a blindfold on your eyes.
“Bend over, hands spread out on the counter. Keep your legs apart.”
“Elijah?”
He walks past you.
“I won’t tell you again.”
You feel a knot in your stomach, based on his tone and how he didn’t take what you said to him lightly.
You can only hear his movement and have no idea what he’s doing.
He comes back behind you, making you jump.
He pulls your skirt down, exposing your brown lace panties.
You shift while standing there, still keeping your palms on the counter and feet spread apart.
He pulls your panties down, slowly and precisely.
You can feel a warm liquid running down your pussy and his finger gently rubbing it in.
You feel something like metal and cold pressed against your clit, he slowly pulls your panties back up— trapping it there.
It starts to vibrate, your mouth falls open from the surprise of it and you want to move your feet so badly.
“Shit.” You moan.
With a quickness you feel a radiating pain of something slapping your ass.
“Don’t you move them feet or hands.”
Between the pain and pleasure, you want to scream— but not in a bad way.
“What was it you were saying? Huh?—“
“I’m a fucking liar?”
You hear the crack of whatever it is, hitting your ass again.
The vibration against your clit makes your legs tremble too on top of everything else.
He bends down kissing your cheek, “I never lied to you, baby.”
Your ass bounces from him hitting again.
You grit your teeth through the pain and pleasure.
“Fuck.” You moan.
“Both contracts are put in place for my security. Not because I’ve had relationships like this one before. You’d be surprised at the lengths that people would go to in order to have what they think you might have.”
The knot in your stomach building and tears of overstimulation painting your cheeks.
He leans down looking at you, the tears running down your cheek.
“Are you crying?”
You nod your head, moans still falling from your mouth.
“Good.”
Another smack on your ass.
“I don’t like being accused of something that I was honest about from the beginning. You could’ve handled it so much better.”
The vibration turns up, higher than it was.
Despite it feeling good, you’re really starting to regret having opened your mouth.
“This feels so good.” You mumble.
“I’m going to—“
He pulls your panties down and takes the vibrator, sliding your panties back up.
You try looking around in confusion, you were so close.
“Stand up.”
You stand up slowly.
“Turn around towards my voice.”
He walks up kissing you passionately, his hand gripping your ass.
“You don’t get rewarded for being wrong.”
He pulls your blindfold off and heads into the other room.
You stand there an overstimulated mess— your cheeks wet from crying and your legs still shaking.
You grab your skirt while he’s in the other room and put it back on.
He comes back a few minutes later, you standing by the window and drinking some water.
“Do you want to stay the night?” He asks.
You nod your head yes.
He wraps his arms around you, placing a kiss on your forehead.
You walk over to the couch, sitting down and placing your glass on the coffee table.
“What made you want this with me?” You ask, cutting straight to the chase.
He walks to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water.
“You interested me, from the very beginning. I was attracted to you in general, but the dinner solidified my attraction and interest.”
He walks back over, sitting on the couch with you.
“Is this too much for you?” He questions.
You stare at the wall, looking at the paintings.
“It’s not too much, it’s just different. Maybe, because it feels like more of an arrangement than anything.”
“How so?” He asks, his interest piqued.
“I mean, you stopped talking to me after you fingered me— because I couldn’t handle you, in your own words. It wasn’t because you wanted to slow things down or because of the age gap, it was because of your sexual desires.”
He sips some of his water, placing the glass on the table.
“It wasn’t inherently sexual. What I showed you was part of me, one of the biggest parts— the part that can matter the most and everything else comes after that.”
“What I want in the bedroom can only be fulfilled by certain individuals and I’d never want to jump into anything without mentioning it.”
You nod, adjusting on the couch so that you’re facing him.
“I understand that and that’s not a part that scares me away or has questions. It was the contracts and that level of control that it seems you have outside of the bedroom. It’s just different.”
He scoots over on the couch, closer to you.
He grabs your hands.
“Hey, when I say that this isn’t an arrangement— I mean that. It’s different for me too and there isn’t any shame in saying that. The sexual attraction is through the roof, but I want you to see other parts of me as well.”
You guys lay on the couch together for a while, just cuddling and talking about nothing. A different kind of vulnerability for both of you, a much needed change in pace.
“Do you want to order pizza?”
Your fingers trace his chest, “that sounds good— but only if it’s from Marciano’s on park avenue.”
He laughs, his hand rubbing your arm.
“Great minds think alike.”
He gets off the couch, going to grab his phone to order pizza and you turn on the tv to kill time.
He comes back a few minutes later, rubbing his hands together.
“I got the food ordered, it should be here in a bit. What are we watching, baby?”
“The family that preys. I’ve never seen it and it comes on in a few minutes.”
He sits down beside you, “I’ve never seen it either.”
The pizza arrives about forty minutes later and gives you two a much needed break from the emotional rollercoaster of a movie.
You both sit on the stools at the counter, eating your pizza.
“Do you travel a lot?” You ask.
He wipes the corner of his mouth, nodding.
“Do I?” He laughs.
“Do you?”
“No, not really. School takes priority and I also don’t like the idea of traveling alone.”
“Well, If you did ever travel anywhere— where’s the first place you’d want to go?”
You finish chewing on your slice of pizza and you sit there thinking.
“I’d like to go skiing in Colorado. I’ve been before but that was years ago.”
“Skiing, hmm. I see you have more skills that I’m hearing about—“
“What else do you do?”
You grab another napkin, wiping your hands.
“I’m really good at soccer and archery. I was on both teams in high school.”
He turns in his seat, looking at you with shock.
“Archery and soccer? I’m gonna need you to show me that.” He jokes.
“What are your long-term goals?” You pry.
“Big ones or small ones?”
You shrug, “both.”
He taps his fingers on the counter.
“My biggest goal overall is that I want to focus more on myself. I’ve always been business oriented and focused since I was young, something my mother instilled in me. I’m older now and I want more out of life than worrying about work or making money.”
You walk over the sink, rinsing your plate off and washing your hands.
“Do you think that wanting more out of life is in connection with wanting to settle down or just having more time to yourself without thinking of work?”
You turn facing him, leaning up against the counter.
“Settling down, a wife and children wasn’t exactly what I was ever looking for. For the longest, I struggled with making romantic connections outside of what fulfilled my desires. I’ve just within the last two years gotten over that and want something more than sex.”
You listen to what he’s saying and give him your undivided attention— but you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t have questions.
For a few hours after that, y’all continue watching movies before he eventually invites you into his bedroom to go to sleep.
His bedroom is huge— almost bigger than your damn apartment. The room is clean, so clean that you could probably eat off the floor.
Dim, ambient lighting.
Black, silk sheets on his bed.
Everything is organized to an extraordinary degree.
“Babe, I don’t have anything to sleep in.”
He scratches his brow, “I forgot about that.”
He walks into his closet and comes back out, handing you a Bone Thugs- N- Harmony shirt.
“You can sleep in this.”
You pull your blouse off— folding it and placing it in his chair along with your skirt.
He sits on the edge of the bed, biting his lip and admiring you.
“Come here, baby.”
You walk over to him, standing in front of him and slowly straddling his lap.
His hands rubbing your thighs and ass.
“You look so good in this set.”
He kisses your neck and sprinkles them down your chest.
You can feel the bulge in his sweatpants growing.
You slide off his lap and onto your knees.
“Baby?”
“Shh. Let me be in control of this.” You put your hand to his lips and slowly push him back.
Your heart is racing as you pull his sweatpants down. Your hand rubbing over his dick in his boxers, teasing him.
You slowly pull his boxers down, his dick springing free.
You sit there in awe, it's way bigger than you expected and way bigger than you’d want to take for your first time.
His tip glistens with precum coating it.
You wrap your hand around it, barely able to with how thick it is.
Your tongue swipes his slit, licking up the precum and you see his legs twitch.
You pump his dick a few times, a heat filling your stomach from how much this turns you on.
A few groans leave his mouth as you slowly stroke him.
Spit fills your mouth from the excitement of sucking his dick.
You push the tip into your mouth, spit dripping down his as you try pushing every inch down your throat.
You remember the trick Lane told you about, so you breathe through your nose to keep from gagging.
“Shit.” Smoke grunts.
You bring your head back up, rubbing the spit around.
You start sucking his dick, your head slowly bobbing up and down.
Smoke makes you stop, sitting up.
“Damn, you’re making a mess baby.”
You keep sucking, your tongue trailing the veins.
“Fuck.” He grunts.
“Baby, is it okay if I try something different?”
You nod.
He places his hands on both sides of your head, thrusting his dick into the back of your throat.
He throat fucks you, his moans filling the air.
Spit drips down your chin and onto your chest.
You gag a few times, but you’re surprisingly good at keeping it under wraps.
“You look so fucking good, your mouth full of my dick.”
Hearing him grunt, moan, and groan from the pleasure of fucking your mouth has you soaked.
He pulls out abruptly, stroking his spit covered dick.
“Open for me.”
You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out.
“Mhmm.”
He lays the tip on your tongue, eyes rolling back as he paints it white.
You keep eye contact with him, closing your mouth and swallowing.
He walks away, grabbing a towel and bringing it over to you.
You wipe your mouth and chest.
“I’m going to go take a shower. Do you want to join me?”
He winks, pulling his boxers up.
“Of course.”
He grabs your hand, walking you into his bathroom.
The bathroom isn’t far from the size of the bedroom, a dream bathroom for you.
The floors are heated, there’s a bathtub and a huge walk-in shower with two heads.
The windows are tinted with an amazing view of the city and people below.
He turns the shower on, letting it heat up.
“Are the floors too warm for you? I can adjust the temperature.”
You laugh, “that’s something I never thought I’d hear.”
He walks over to you, wrapping his arms around you as you stare out the window.
“This is a view that I could get used to.”
You both get into the shower both using the separate heads. At first you're nervous about him seeing you naked, but the way he gets hard all over again— you realize that you were nervous for nothing.
You lather your body in soap, humming a song that you heard earlier on the radio.
The water runs over your body, the soap washing down the drain.
You turn to see Smoke watching you and admiring you from his side.
“You got me feeling a way that I haven’t felt before.” He admits.
You start to smirk, “that’s just the sexual aspect.”
He walks over to you, placing his hands on your waist.
“I mean it, though. You’re different.”
“Am I?”
He nods.
You pull him close, your lips crashing into his.
You pull away before getting too carried away, “let’s finish showering. We need to get in the bed.”
Y’all finish up the shower— you put on the shirt he gave you and make your way back into the bedroom, Smoke following right behind you.
Y’all cuddle in the bed and exchange a few words, but it doesn’t take long before you’re asleep with your head on his chest and lightly snoring.
﹙ drabble, 18+, possessive, dirty talk, mean!smoke, sexual themes ﹚
his arms locking up under yours, dragging you off the edge of the bed like you weighed nothing. his chest pressed to your back, his forearms hooking up under your thighs while his hands clasped behind your neck in a full nelson position.
he had you folded up, legs spread wide, pussy completely exposed, back bent deep while he stood over you and drove into you like he ain’t have an ounce of respect for you.
“look at you,” he grumbled. “dumb lil girl can’t even take dick unless i put her in a fuckin’ chokehold.”
his grip didn’t budge. every thrust knocked the wind out of you. you moans turned into broken cries, but that only made him laugh.
“aw, now you wanna cry?” he mocked, hips smacking against you loud and wet. “didn’t cry when you was runnin’ your mouth earlier. but now you screamin’? yeah, that’s what i thought.”
you couldn’t even move—nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. every stroke had you seeing stars, jaw slack, drool spilling from the corner of your lips.
“what you good for besides takin’ dick?” he hissed against your ear, voice sharp without edge. “this all you know how to do—open your legs and beg for me to fuck you.”
your toes curled, body shaking like you were about to fall apart. his thrusts got meaner, harder, like he wanted to fuck the shame into you—make you feel it. and soon when he noticed you getting close. “don’t you dare cum yet,” he growled, thrusting in deeper. “you cum when i say. youn’ own shit round here—not even that pretty pussy.”
A/N — well this all i got! i wanna get more detailed with my writing so please give me tips😔. if i didn’t describe the position right IGNORE OR YOU ANTIBLACK.
summary: you live for pleasure; smoke lives for discipline. the total opposite, you both argue endlessly, though the pull between the two of you were undeniable. smoke believes that his feelings for you was a burden he wouldn't allow - that was until one night you pushed him too far. decided to confront you, his carefully built restraint comes crumbling down, and your blunt honesty forces him to confess what he could no longer deny: he needed you, completely...
word count: 9k
warnings: smut, oral sex (m! and f!receving), unprotected sex, slight!dom!reader, slight!sub!smoke, switch!smoke, enemies to lovers, pet names, praise kink, porn with minimal plot, language
author's note: i deadass went into a flow state writing this even tho it took weeks lmaoo, it's been too long since i posted a proper fic and shockingly i never wrote for smoke (if you read that other smoke fic no you didn't) but yay! it's finally done, as a stack girl i lowkey kinda love writing for smoke now, so like...expect more smoke fics! anyway thank ya'll so much for the support <3
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Everyone had their secrets, the kind of secrets that would never see the light of day, taking them to the grave. Some inconsequential, most embarrassing, while the majority were downright depraved – seeped in pure desire and lust that even just thinking about them would cause anyone to atone. You, on the other hand, lived life with no hesitation; you were an open book and lived without shame, without secrets. A paragon of pleasure you had vowed to yourself to always satisfy your deepest fantasies and desires; it didn’t matter how big or small your wants were you were always determined to fulfill them.
Others envied your outlook on life while others admired it, but alas you didn’t care. Smoke on the other hand couldn’t stand you the first time you crossed paths. A man who took pride in being disciplined and stoic, often sacrificing his own desires for the ‘greater good’. You scoffed at this each and every time he would tell you this, his words heavy and filled in judgment.
He truly couldn’t comprehend your outlook on life.
He viewed you as nothing more but a person who was enslaved by their own flesh while you viewed him as prude who thought too highly of himself. Yet when you both argued with each other, you could see a spark behind his deep brown eyes, the same spark you have when seeing something you liked. There was no denying that Smoke was fine as hell, a wall of well-trained yet soft muscles; his powerful arms with thick biceps always caught your attention especially when he would subconsciously flex his arms when moving about. Not to mention you adored his dimples, he rarely smiled but when he spoke certain words or gave you sideways glares, they’ll bloom on his beautiful face. You wanted to press your lips against them, kissing lower until you reached his jaw, broad shoulders, and stopping at his adam’s apple that would stiffen with each word he spoke.
And that damn voice...
So deep and powerful; you were a sucker for southern accents, and he had a thick one. It was smooth like molasses, sweet on your ears like honey, and made your entire body sizzle like standing in the summer sun. Sure, the words shared between you weren’t as friendly, but you could honestly hear this man talk for hours if he’d let you. Sometimes you would piss him off just a bit to hear him giving you a stern chewing out – you always had to clench your thighs together and pretend not to be so damn turned on by his chastising. The attraction was mutual, but Smoke wouldn’t confess this to anyone, not even himself at one point. You were beautiful – no, gorgeous. The kind of beauty men would go to war for, you were temptation in the flesh, and Smoke knew if he would even entertain the thought of messing around with you he’d lose all of his convictions he worked so hard for.
And yet half of him loved the idea of you ruining him completely, to strip him down to nothing but a man desperate for your embrace, he wanted you to touch him in a way that’ll have him scrambling to find himself again. Each time he would think about caving into his desires for you, he quickly reminds himself that you’ll break him too much. Smoke was the kind of lover that grew easily attached and even though he was a twin he always hated sharing, so the thought of you using him and discarding him for some other nigga made his head spin with envy. You were too much trouble than it's worth, so he kept his distance in hopes you’d grow out of this self-serving phase in your life, that maybe you decide to settle down and choose one lover. And when you do decide to go that route – he'll be here waiting. Until then, the two of you would argue until both of you were blue in the face and sexually frustrated.
That was the idea, of course.
So why was he here standing in front of you completely desperate for you?
The light within your room illuminated a soft golden hue, creating the already intimate space more intense. His eyes flicked towards your window watching the raindrops crawl over the foggy glass as the scent of incense and sweet candles filled his lungs. He came here after he heard your failed attempt to take down his little cousin; you didn’t know that Sammie was already in a relationship. Yes, you were open about your sexual needs, but you weren’t with adultery. You had to have some standers. Yet Sammie told Smoke about what happened and the thought of you trying to sleep with his cousin made his entire being fill with rage. He came here to curse you clean out, yet all he could do was gaze at your half nude frame. You wore a satin robe that hung loosely on your body; the silk cheetah print robe made your brown skin look so damn kissable, and the way your fingers held onto the lit cigarette was deliberate as if displaying how unphased you were from Smoke’s presence.
Slowly you took a drag from the cigarette, the robe slipping open a bit to show the soft mound of your breast and the edge of your nipple slightly exposed for his eyes to see. You sat calmly on your vanity chair, legs open as you leaned back into the cushioned seat, Smoke had obviously interrupted you getting ready for a night out. Trying to compose himself the man that stood before you sucked his teeth, making a grin fall across your face at the noise. You were ready for another sexually charged argument, yet you hoped that he’d actually go through with his desire for you.
“You got alotta nerve, woman,” Smoke muttered out, the sound of his southern drawl already made your body shiver, goosebumps were forming on your thighs as he continues to speak. “Steppin’ to my lil’ cousin like that? He don’t need no influences like you around him.”
“Why not? You think he can’t handle me?” You asked flippantly, taking another drag from the cigarette, the small flame illuminating your delicate features within the dimly lit room. Your voice was filled with a jesting tone, you weren’t taking Smoke seriously, you knew he was upset about this whole situation for a different reason. “He said no, so why you care so much?” You finished as your free hand traced shapes against the arm rest of your seat.
“I care ‘cause that’s my family and I protect what’s mine.” Smoke replied sternly, his gaze set deeply in a glare that would make anyone shake in fear, but you’re not just anyone. A laugh then fell from your lips at his statement, blowing a grey heavy cloud of nicotine within the already hazy air within the room. He had some nerve to come barging into your own damn home barking threats at you, but you knew his words were thinly veiled displays of jealousy. Soaking up his words, you contemplated how to reply. You could threaten him back, laugh in his face, or do both. But you just settled on entertaining his fussing.
“You think I’m that terrible, that I gotta be put in my place to ‘protect your family’? Please, Smoke you and I both know the reason why you here,” you then pressed the finished cigarette into the glass ashtray, crushing the yellow filter between your fingers. “You wish that it was you that I wanted, huh? It’s hurtin’ you so damn bad I chose your lil’ cousin over you--”
“Watch your mouth.” Smoke cuts you off, yet you continued your harsh but accurate tirade.
“Don’t play dumb, you and I both hate that shit. I’ve seen the way you’ve been eye fuckin’ me every time we see each other,” you spoke plainly as if discussing the weather. Smoke’s stern face twisted in shock for a split second, yet he couldn’t find the words he wanted to say. It was as if they were trapped inside of his throat. You were telling the truth though, the hard and bitter truth that kept him bothered for months on end. He wanted to deny your factual statement, but he couldn’t. “It’s okay I love the way you look at me, makes me feel like I’m the shit honestly.”
“Why you doin’ all this?” Smoke breathed out as he flexed his hand, opening and closing his fists in an attempt to stop the tremor in his hands that grew with each second that passed. His nerves were shot from you; he should just turn around and leave you alone letting you win this argument, yet his feet stayed planted as he soaked up your silk frame. Your nimble fingers now played with the golden chain that rested over your collarbones. The dainty gold necklace held a small diamond that caught the flicker from the burning candles, and Smoke watched as your hand slightly tugged at the diamond.
“I’m doin’ all this because I know what you want,” you finally answered, letting go of the necklace as it dropped against your chest, resting just between your breasts. “You wanna fuck me – nah, that’s not it...You want me to fuck you.” Those raunchy words made Smoke clenched his jaw instinctually as his eyes closed. He tried his best not to show how rattled he was by you, but it seemed to only give away his underlaying want for you even more. He wasn’t use to not having control in this kind of setting, always being the dominate one in and out of the bedroom, it made him nervous how much he liked the feeling, how his heart raced at your stern commands. His own body had betrayed him, waving a white flag of defeat before you even touched him. With a ragged breath, he caught his own reflection behind you within the vanity mirror. He looked so damn spent, so wound up tight that he was sure he’d combust from just standing here.
It was embarrassing.
“Say it, Elijah. Finally admit to what’s been botherin’ you. Say you want me to fuck you...” Your voice was breathy, soft, yet full of power. The way you said his name, his actual name, fluttered within your feminine voice. It was as if you were tasting it with your tongue, testing the waters to see if Smoke would finally give in. You slowly crept your hands down your satin frame, tracing over the silk that shielded your chest while your legs slowly opened just enough for the rope from the robe to hide your already wet sex. Thoughts of how soft your body must feel, how skillful your hands were to bring him pleasure, and how sweet your cooze must’ve tasted made his mouth water. He needed you more than you needed him, and for the first time he was tired of denying it – tired of fighting it and waiting for the ‘right time’ to act on it.
This choice would probably haunt him; properly ruin him until he was chained to you like the rest of those poor fools who dared to entertain you.
“I...I want you to fuck me.” Was all Smoke said, a ghost of a tremble lingered within his drawl, yet you caught it. His shoulders were tense as your eyes raked over his broad frame. Slowly, you traced your upper lip with your tongue, savoring his truthful admission to you. It made your core flutter with excitement as a grin clung onto your face. Of course, Smoke was the kind of man that was tough in the streets but craved to be bossed around in the bedroom, to be told what to do and how to do it just right. He was a soldier after all, he was trained to take orders well and it was your duty to help him exercise this skill with you.
“Good job. You’re such a good soldier ain’t you?” That praise sounded so good coming from your lips, Smoke shuttered at the sound of it, so much so that his dick twitched with anticipation, blood rushing towards his tip as he practically strained against his pants. He wanted you to continue to praise him again, to tell him how good – no, how great he is following your orders.
He didn’t understand why he couldn’t move as his eyes watched you move. Your legs shined under the warm light. The scent of shea butter that clung onto your skin fluttered within the chilled air. Uncrossing your legs you pushed yourself from the chair, your hips swaying with each step you made towards the man, a soft yet commanding smile adorned your lips. Once you reach Smoke, breaking through his personal space, your hand rests on his chest. The feeling of his muscles through his clothes made you giggle abruptly and the sound of your laughter with the combination of you touching him made Smoke release a shaky breath that came deep from within; he didn’t even realize he was holding his breath in the first place.
You circled around him like a lioness playing with her food and the sensation of your hand gently tracing the dips and valleys of his muscles through his shirt exhilarated his senses, and it didn’t help that you pressed your soft body against his back, the feeling of your lips lingering over the shell of his ear made him shut his eyes. “Tell me just how terrible I am.” You whispered. Your voice soft as silk filled his mind as your tongue slowly traced his ear. This action alone earned you a groan of desperation from Smoke. Your hand crept down his toned torso, stopping over his heavy and harden dick that was confined in his pants. You palmed his cock, feeling just how big he truly was, he was definitely blessed down below. This is exactly why you adored country ass men. Big, strong, tender, and smooth without even trying – they were also always gifted with ‘rifles’ under their belts compared to other men.
And you couldn’t wait to play with it...
You gave his dick a squeeze, not too hard but just enough to let him know you’re about that, a deep and guttural moan escaped him as he bucked his hips into your hand. Sharp teeth nibbled at his ear lobe as you urged him to speak his mind about you; to confess his deepest thoughts about you. “You...You ain’t nothin’ but trouble,” Smoke muttered as his words folded in on themselves from the feeling of your skillful hands touching him, you pressed your breast firmly against his back as your nimble fingers now reached for the buckle of his belt, the sound of metal clicking echoed through your room loudly as if sealing the deal between the two of you. “A problem from the start. You think the world revolves around you and – fuck...” He moaned as your hand slipped past his unbuckled belt, snaking its way down his pants and boxers, you weren’t wasting any time. The feeling of his soft yet coily happy trail pressed against your palm as you began to stroke him, you could feel just how hard he is, how the veins that ribbed his dick twitched from your touch.
The tip of his cock wept with precum as you continued to stroke him, your lips tracing shapes against his earlobe as he leaned into your touch, your breast pressing firmly against his back, the feeling of his defined shoulder blades rubbing on your perky nipples made you moan into his ear, praises falling from your lips as your thumb and index finger rubbed at the base of his shaft, feeling each and every pulsating twitch his member made. Your mouth watered as you begged him to continue his tirade. Eating up each syllable he groaned out. “I can’t stand you.” Smoke moaned out through gritted teeth.
“I can’t stand you either.” You replied as your hand worked over his heavy cock, you stopped your purposeful strokes much to Smoke’s dismay, a pitiful groan slipped past his parted lips and slowly you spit on your hand. The saliva coats your palm and fingers as you pushed past his boxers again. This time your strokes were mean, jerking him off as if it was a punishment – yet Smoke lapped up your every touch with guttural moans. He pressed his cheek against your face, your teeth biting down hard on the shell of his ear, a hiss of pain was quickly replaced with a symphony of pleasurable moans. You licked over the subtle bite marks that were left behind, a wordless apology that Smoke gladly accepted.
“You hate me, huh?” You asked as Smoke shamelessly pulled his pants down lower, just past his hips, causing his dick to spring free as his girthy length bounced against his abdomen. You had more freedom to play with his member now, peeking over his shoulder as you watched the head of his cock disappear with each stroke your palm made, the raunchy wet sounds of you touching him made you squeeze your thighs together, you were gripping nothing but you knew it wouldn’t be long until you’re filled to the brim. A breathy sigh escaped you; you loved the way his dick felt in your hand. How the thick veins that adorned his manhood would pulse under your touch, you could touch him just like this and still be satisfied with your encounter with the man. But what you didn’t count on was how he stopped your movements, his large hand dwarfing yours as he held your palm in place, just as the base of his dick. The feeling of his calloused fingers pressed against yours made you grind yourself against him, your leg hooking over him, trapping him within your embrace.
“I don’t hate you...” He muttered, his voice an octave deeper than it usually is. Your eyes that were so focused on his body flicked between your palm that groped him and his intense gaze that lingered on you, his eyes were half-lidded while his lips, so kissable and plump parted. It looked as if he was tired or just woken up. He was gorgeous, the kind of home grown and southern allure men like him possessed and didn’t even know it; Smoke had no clue the affect he had on you. Just by him looking at you, for the first time you were getting second thoughts. Maybe this was nothing more but a hate fuck for him? That once he got you outta his system he’d really dog you out, or worse – ignore you as if you were nothin’ but a rock in his shoe. But his words were so tender that you believed him. ‘I don’t hate you’. That phrase alone made you feel reassured, that after this he’d still stick around; you desperately wanted to believe that.
So, you kissed him.
Afraid that your words might betray you and your pride. The kiss shared with Smoke was laced with raw emotions that lingered with each word spoken, each glance stolen, and every touch that was once so minuscule. Your teeth bumped into his with a soft click, yet you didn’t break the kiss, and neither did he. Smoke followed your lips like a man dying of thirst, swallowing your whimpers as if they were made from honey, the noises you made was so sweet on his ears. Like a melody from a ballad about love and yearning and Smoke yearned for you the moment you two crossed paths. The feelings he had were mutual, biting on his bottom lip you then licked into his mouth, casing his tongue as he cupped your face within his large hands. His skin was so warm against yours, like snuggling a heated blanket. It was comforting; it was safe. The weight of denying his attraction for you lifted from his shoulders with each kiss he gave you and your hands that once touched him so damn lustfully now roamed over his broad shoulders and strong chest.
Smoke had pulled you into his embrace; your satin covered breast pressed flush against his chest now. His hands that once held your face with reverence now rested at the base of your neck, giving it a reassuring squeeze, an action to show you that he cared about what you were about to give him. Then his calloused fingers traced down your arms, stopping at your sensitive nipples that harden from his tender caresses, and you cursed yourself out within your hazy mind. Never in your sex life had a man made your body so damn needy, you were practically trembling with excitement mixed with pure desperation to be bent over and fucked. You could feel your lacy panties soaked, the fabric rubbing against your aching clit, yet you knew patience was a virtue. Smoke’s thumbs rolled over your nipples, pressing against the sensitive buds through your robe. Lust-soaked sigh tumbled from your parted lips. The sound embarrassed you, causing you to pull your lips away from Smoke’s, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth to steady the moans that threaten to slip out from his touch.
Smoke then leaned down to kiss your chin, peppering soft yet sloppy kisses down your jawline and neck; you could feel him inhale you deeply. You cradled his head, your fingers stroking his hair lovely but careful enough not to mess up his waves. His lips then began to suck at that spot that always turned you into a mess, it was as if he knew this too despite this being the first time the two of you decided to fuck each other. You already knew that he had a few lovers under his belt, Smoke was a grown ass man of course, but it shocked you with how well he could read your body from just a few kisses and strokes. His thumbs rolling your nipples quickly turned into sharp yet quick pinches, causing you to let out a hiss, your hips bucking against nothing. He then pulled the thin fabric to the side, exposing your right nipple for him, and without missing a beat he pulled you up towards him as he leaned down a bit to meet your breast halfway.
His lips wrapped around the bud as he began to lick and suck at the sensitive button. You whipped your head back, pressing your body closer to him, ya’ll was so damn close to each other you were convinced that you could jump in his skin. But alas he kept you steady with his strong frame as you stood on your tiptoes, legs shaking as he continued to suckle on your nipple like it was a piece of candy. His other hand still rolled and pinched your left nipple; he was turning you into nothing but puddy in his hands. Half of you enjoyed it so damn much, yet the other part of you wanted him to be a moaning mess. A game now bloomed between the heated exchanges of moans.
Who’ll submit first?
Smoke bit onto your breast, pulling your sensitive bud between his teeth as the sight of his golden tooth glisten under the candlelight made you go limp in his arms, but quickly you gained your footing. Pulling his mouth away from your breast, red bruises and love bites were left behind on your chest, and you would wear them with pride after this. Cupping his face with your hands, the feeling of his mustache tickled your palms, and with one last tender kiss you slipped out of his grasp, much to his dismay. “I’d hate to make this easy for you, Elijah,” you whispered as you placed a quick peck on his swollen lips. He savored the quick kiss you gave him, licking his lips in an attempt to capture the sweet taste of your gloss covered lips. “You a soldier, baby. You gotta listen to me, okay...So, take this off. Slowly.” You signaled to your robe that hung loosely on your body, the fabric giving up shielding your intimate areas a long time ago.
Smoke didn’t waste any time following your request; his hands with a slight tremor tugged at the sash of your robe that hung limp around your plush hips, and as if on cue the thin cheetah printed fabric crumpled onto the ground. You stood in front of Smoke in just your panties, and he couldn’t help but to soak up your half nude body. His eyes raked over your thick thighs; they were soft yet strong as stretchmarks adorn your hips. Your body was homegrown and made in the image of Venus herself.
Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if you told him that you were a descendant of Aphrodite or even Cleopatra. He wanted to hold you within his arms again, to feel each and every curve on your body, to worship them sacredly. Even if it was just for one night. Smoke wanted to kneel at the alter that was your sex, to give you unyielding pleasure that no man had given you before, so that’s exactly what he did. You playfully shuffled away from Smoke until the back of your legs hit your bed, and slowly you sank onto the mattress.
The soft pillows and blankets offered some comfort for your body, the soft cotton caressing your skin grounded you as Smoke began to undress himself, leaning up on your forearms you watched him through thick lashes, biting your lip at the sight of his muscles flexing as he tossed his shirt off.
He was completely naked compared to you, and normally he would tell you to take those panties off, but for the first time within his sex life he slipped into the headspace of submissiveness, he was practically wearing this new title like a badge of honor. He wanted to please you however he can. Slowly he fell into your embrace, his strong body caging you in. The weight of him on top of you made you feel safe – protected. He placed soft kisses on the hickeys he left behind on your skin, sinking lower and lower. He left behind a trail of kisses on your body. Lips danced over your neck, your collar bone, down your breast only stopping a beat to kiss your nipples, down your sternum until they rested on your stomach, just above the waistband of your lacy underwear. The feeling of his nose brushing against your bellybutton made goosebumps dot over your skin; your hands soon cupped your breast, playing with your nipples as you watched Smoke tug at the lacy fabric between his teeth. You gasped at the sight, your mouth hung open slack as you raised your hips just enough for him to drag the panties down your legs with his teeth.
You moaned at the feeling of chilled air brushing against your wet and aching core, your fingers pressing down on your sensitive nipples as Smoke continued to undress you with his teeth; never breaking eye contact with you. His eyes, so deep with a chestnut hue, and underneath the flicker of candlelight you were sure you could’ve got lost in them. He was looking at you with unbridled lust that made you shiver with anticipation; you needed him badly. Once your panties were off, they were tossed across the bed just above your head.
“So fuckin' pretty, I’m ‘bouta eat good tonight.” Smoke whispered, biting his lip as he then dragged a thick finger over your already slick folds, pulling your wetness towards your twitching clit. You rocked your hips forward under his touch, meeting him halfway as he continued to rub your pussy gently. Your eyes peered down at Smoke as he began to rub tight and deliberate circles over your sensitive clit, a low moan of approval came from him at the raunchy wet sounds your pussy made, the sound alone made the once purposeful circles of his fingers on your pussy stuttered now he rubbed your pussy from side to side. Slowly his thick fingers traced down towards your slick core, not pushing all the way in just yet, but enough for you to feel him. Your face twisted with pleasure at the sensation of his fingers carefully fucking into you.
Smoke continued to play with your pussy, pulling his middle and ring finger out of you to give your clit much needed attention, you rolled your hips at his actions as whimper of praises fell from your parted mouth. You told him just how good he was making you feel with just his fingers alone, how he’s such a good solider to you. Your words fluttered within his mind; they felt good to hear and without missing a beat Smoke lowered his head, propping one of your legs over his shoulder. His tongue dragged against your slick folds, tasting you from your aching core and stopping with the tip of his tongue on your bundle of nerves, he made sure to trace circles over your clit with his tongue as if he was licking ice cream. You grinded yourself against his lips, the feeling of his facial hair tickling your thighs made a breathy laugh escape from you.
His strong hands rested on your plush hips, holding you down to make sure he could taste all of you. Smoke wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking it with fever as his fingers continued to fuck into you, pressing them all the way in and only stopping at his knuckles. Your hand held onto the back of his head, gently caressing him as you pressed his face deeper into your pussy making sure that you could feel every inch of his tongue. You looked down at Smoke as he gazed upon you as if you were a work of art, and you looked at him as if he was an angel here to absolve you of your sins – or better yet to corrupt. The back of his tongue was now flush against your thumping clit as a low moan came from him, it felt like your entire soul was lit on fire from his plump lips rubbing against your sensitive bud, he would switch between licking your clit and kissing the top of your pussy. You were teetering over the edge from the sensation; and it didn’t help that the wet sounds of your cunt fluttered through the air like a pornographic symphony.
It was all too much...
With shaky hands you reached for your nightstand, there within the rickety drawer was a box of your cigarettes and a lighter. The paper box crushed within your grasp as you tried to open it with trembling fingers; Smoke was determined to make you come on his tongue. Three flicks from your lighter were all it took; the tip of the thin cigarette burned brightly through the dimly lit room. Your lungs burned with the heavy smoke as the nicotine made your head fuzzy while Smoke’s tongue set your whole body on fire, the head rush of chasing your orgasm and puffing on the cigarette was enough to send your body over the edge. Your back arched against the bed as sweat clung onto your heavy chest, it felt like you’ve been running a damn marathon as your legs shook, yet Smoke continued to fuck his tongue into your clenching pussy. His strong and steady hands held your hips down, locking you in place as your thighs damn near crushed his head.
“Damn, baby. You eatin’ this pussy too damn good,” you moaned, a thick nicotine cloud plumed over your lips – the sensation burned your already swollen lips. “K-keep goin’, please don’t stop...” You finished, your once demanding persona slipping away between each lick Smoke gave your needy pussy, his fingers now giving her mean and tight strokes, but alas he still listens to your plea. And without fail your body began to shake underneath his touch; you shook like a damn leaf in the wind. Cries of his name fell from your lips like a prayer, you were convinced that he was starving for you the way he made sure to taste all of you as came hard against his mouth, Smoke’s heavy-lidded eyes gazed up at you as he watched your body contort above him. The sight of you reaching your climax made his already harden dick twitch with anticipation; he wanted to bend you over and fuck you through this mattress so damn bad.
But patience is a virtue.
Your teeth bit into the filter of the cigarette, trying your best to ground yourself back to earth, yet the sight of Smoke rising from between your legs made you almost choke. His thick lips and facial hair were slick with your pussy juices, his brown skin glistening under the candlelight, you leaned forward as your hands traced up his strong abdomen. You could feel his muscles twitch under the pads of your fingers and slowly you rested your hands on his broad shoulders. “You look beautiful, my strong soldier makin’ this pussy come like...That.” You whispered as Smoke plucked out the cigarette from your lips. Your tongue then licked across his parted lips, tasting just how sweet you truly were, Smoke’s own tongue licked against yours as if trying to steal the taste of your pussy for himself. You both weren’t quite kissing, just breathing into each other’s mouths as teeth clicked against each other's, your lips dragging against him as the feeling of his thick mustache tickled your nose.
Smoke was the one to break the barrier, his tongue lustfully slipping past your lips as he kissed you. The kiss was messy, desperate, and downright nasty. Your pussy fluttered that familiar feeling of desire, it felt like you were swimming against a vicious tide when kissing Smoke, yet you wanted more of it – more of him. You tried to pull away for some air, but he held onto your jaw with a gentle yet firm grip, causing your lips to pucker within the kiss. Your lungs burned with the need to breathe, yet kissing Smoke was worth the temporary light headedness. With one last kiss, Smoke pulled his lips away from yours, causing a whine to escape from you, leaning to meet his lips again. Smoke dodged your hungry kiss. Your lips pressed sloppily on the corner of his mouth, his calloused fingers still holding your jaw within his grasp.
With your mouth still pursed Smoke took a long drag from the cigarette he took from you, his eyes never breaking contact with yours as he puffed away, ya’ll were basically in a staring contest. Once satisfied with the long inhale, Smoke gently pressed his mouth against yours, filling your already burning lungs with thick cigarette fumes. A lazy smile tugged on your beautiful features as you licked your lips at the taste of him and the cigarette. “Lay down...” Smoke said as his eyes trailed up and down your naked body, his words caused a giggle to erupt from you.
“Oh, nah. Not you makin’ orders,” a sigh was followed by your jesting. Which cause Smoke to be taken aback a bit. Yes, he was down for you to be dominant. But he assumed that after making you come, he’d be the one to show you how to please him next – or better yet show you how to please yourself. But you weren’t going to wane, not just yet. You’re gonna make him work for that. “You my soldier, remember? So, you do what I say...You lay your ass down right where you made me come.”
“...And if I don’t?” Smoke asked, yet you could hear the slight undertones of humor within his question. You didn’t realize that the man could be funny, especially after snatching your soul out of your body with just his tongue and fingers alone. You leaned back, pulling your body heat away from him as the mischievous grin on your face made Smoke shiver with an expectant sigh, still smoking away on the cigarette as he watched you.
“Then you go home. I already got mine; it’s your choice if you get yours.” You shrugged as you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, your tone was singsong and utterly playful, the kind of tone that a person uses to tease someone. Smoke sucked his teeth own teeth at your words, the sight of his golden tooth catching the candlelight made your heart flutter, he took in your words, how cruel yet impish they were, he was right all along. You were trouble, plain and simple, yet he couldn’t help himself. If it were up to him, he’d would’ve been dived between your thighs a long time ago. But that damn ego and that damned mouth always was the bane of his fantasies about you. A beat of silence past and slowly he laid right in the spot you once were. A giddy laugh came from you, cutting through the tension like a knife as you then began to straddle him, your thick thighs caging him in, yet you both knew that he didn’t want to be freed.
“So disciplined, so good at followin’ orders. But not good enough, we’ll work on that later...” You muttered mostly to yourself, Smoke heard you praises, yet catching your last part of your sentence stung him though. Half of him wanted so badly to make you pleased – no, that's not the word. He wanted to make you proud of him; to show you just how much better he was compared to your other flings within the bedroom. Taking your words in account, Smoke laid straight on his back as your lips, still soaked with his spit and juices from your pussy pressed against the shell of his ear. That special spot that always turned him into puddy.
You sucked and bit onto his earlobe which earned a deep and guttural moan from him. Your lips dragging down lower towards his thumping pulse, leaving dark red hickeys behind that you knew would be hard to hide. Your lips then traced each and every muscle that adorned his well-trained body. Your kisses on his body were gentle compared to the ones you gave his neck, as if thanking his body for being so damn strong yet comforting.
Squeezing your thighs together to ease the ache of arousal between your legs, your hand wrapped around the base of his dick as your nimble fingers maneuvered up and down, Smoke was thick and girthy like a tree trunk and it didn’t help that his dick had a curve to it. You knew that it would hit your spot just right, turning you into a whimpering mess. But you wanted to desperately taste him first. Without hesitation you leaned down and placed a light kiss on the tip of his cock, your knees pressing into the mattress as you felt the warm precum pearl against your puckered lips, you continued to kiss his dick as if it was the most sacred thing on the planet.
Licking your top lip to taste him you then filled your open mouth with his heavy cock, you could barely fit him in your mouth, but you still tried. Your tongue traced the thick veins that adorned his thick member – the feeling of his dick twitching from how your tongue rolled over tip made your head spin. The taste of him sparked something deeply within you, something raw and full of nothing but desire. “Mhm, fuck. Your mouth makin’ me feel...” But Smoke didn’t finish as he took another drag from the cigarette as moans rumbled through his entire being, his calloused hand massaged your scalp. You could feel his fingers tremble slightly, yet you leaned into his touch, sinking your mouth deeper around him until a gag was felt. He was trying his best but to buck his hips forward, he wanted so badly to fuck your mouth, but he knew it’ll be too much.
Long lashes blinked up at him with each inch you took in your skillful mouth, gagging and moaning around him as you gave his dick mean sucks and licks. You were basically using him as if he was a lollipop, trying your best to taste all of him as precum danced within your mouth sweetly. He tasted delicious and it only urged you to sink your mouth deeper and deeper, pushing yourself past your limits you could feel the head of his dick hitting the back of your throat. The vibrations of your moans and gags cause Smoke to whimper, curling his toes as his hand gripped a fistful of your coils. The familiar feeling of your lungs burning for air made you pull your mouth away, catching your breath as a spit bubble bloomed from your open mouth, the bubble popping from the tip of his dick resting on your lips.
Dazed fits of giggles came from you as tears streamed down your face, your hand now pumping his member as the slick and raunchy sound working over his cock was heard. Smoke’s dick bobbed against your cheek and the corner of your mouth, your chin and face were messy with spit, lips slick wet as a wide and toothy smile adorned your face. Despite the fact that your face was cover with drool, Smoke couldn’t help to stare at you in awe. “You so pretty.” That was all he said, and he said it without even thinking, yet that short compliment made your heart flutter. You whispered out a: ‘I know’ before planting more sloppy kisses up his thick shaft. You then continued to give him head, switching between your warm mouth and the palm of your hand. Your voice was hoarse as you showered him in praise; telling him how big he was and how good he tasted on your tongue.
You could feel him being close, how his breathing became heavy, and the grip on your hair was starting to grow uncomfortable, but you continued. That was until he chanted your name like it was a war cry. Your names followed by ‘damns’, ‘pleases’, and ‘waits’ halted your movements. Pulling your mouth away from his dick with a wet pop you leaned back onto your knees, your eyes raking over his naked body. His brown skin was slicked with sweat; it reminded you of spilled water across a mahogany desk. You leaned down to lick the sweat that rested on his lower abdomen, just inches above his dick as the feeling of his pubic hair tickling your chin made you want to lick lower. But being the nice woman you were, you listen to his plea.
“What is it, baby? Talk to me.” You sighed as your nails gently scratched against his skin; your voice was soft and comforting, like a hug or a warm blanket. But Smoke couldn’t muster the words he wanted to say, so instead he crushed the finished cigarette into the ashtray, the filter crumpling within his hands as he then reached for you. Pulling you up towards him by your arms, he planted a sloppy kiss on your lips, tasting himself on your mouth as he deepened the kiss. He breathed into your mouth heavily, as if kissing you would help him catch his breath. Your arms wrapped around him as both of your bodies laid flush against each other naked. You could feel every dip and valley of his muscles while his hands stroked and caress every soft curve you had; your breast pressed firmly against his hard chest. “Talk to me.” You moaned in between kisses, the sound of your breathy voice made Smoke crack as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck.
“Fuck me...Please.” Smoke begged, his teeth biting at the golden chain that hung loosely around your neck. The look on his face made you breathless; you gazed into his dark brown irises as his thumbs lovingly wiped the tears away that stained your cheeks. You had men beg you for some pussy before, but the way Smoke begged made you feel like you were the only girl in the world. It was pretty the way he begged, and with a smile you planted a soft peck against his lips. Slowly you sat up, straddling him again as you used his chest for support. You then grabbed the base of his cock that was slick with your spit, lining him up with your needy entrance. With an obedient nod you sank down onto his thick shaft. You were so wet, so warm, so fucking soft. It felt like he stumbled into heaven as your pussy squeezed around him perfectly. The pleasure that Smoke felt was undeniable and with gritted teeth his hands held onto your hips, making you sit on his dick completely.
Your nails dug into his chest, scratching at his skin as the sting of pleasure and pain flooded your senses, Smoke was the biggest you’ve ever taken and you’re sure he knew this too. Smoke moaned out as you paused, adjusting yourself to his well-endowed size, his southern drawl growing sloppy as he told you how good you felt. You’re on top riding him, take each inch like a pro; you were fucking this man straight on his back. Each thrust of your hips sounded wet and sloppy, like jumping into puddles after a long day of rain. A creamy mess was quickly formed between both your sex, due to the friction and your natural wetness, Smoke loved how amazing you felt squeezing around him.
And then without even thinking you interlocked your fingers with Smoke’s. Holding his left hand as you continued to ground yourself down onto his thick shaft, the feeling of him making small yet passionate groans fall from your lips; his hand guided your hips – your eyes locked onto each other. His thumb gently caresses the back of your hand with each snap; the feeling of his cock nestled deeply within your soft walls made you almost see stars, he was fucking you just right hitting that special spot that always made your legs turn into jelly. You were positive you were going to walk with a limp the next day, yet you still met his hips halfway, fucking him back while using his chest as leverage. The feeling of you giving him pleasure like this flooded his sense. It was damn near transcendental how good you were making him feel and deep down he knew he couldn’t let you go after this; it was as if your pussy was made just for him or maybe he was made just for you.
“This my pussy now,” Smoke groaned going deeper as he paused his movements, the feeling of dick splitting you open almost made you come right then and there. You let out a high-pitched grunt at this, rolling your hips as your legs shook from the overbearing sensation, still you and Smoke held hands. “All mines.” He finished as his eyes gazed into your fluttering ones, all you could see within his heavy-lidded brown irises was utter devotion, the kind that’ll have a man stuck on you for years to come. All you could do in response was to lean down and kiss him again, moaning into his open mouth as he continued to fuck into you deeper, the noise of your pussy taking all of him was raunchy, yet it was music to your ears. You could happily have Smoke fuck you all day if you could and you knew he’d do it with no hesitation.
He bit onto your bottom lip; Smoke was fucking into you so damn deep you’re sure you could feel him just below your bellybutton. The familiar pressure building up within your core made you instinctually pull away from him. The pleasurable feeling was too much to bear, yet you still wanted more. Smoke didn’t let you peel him off, his strong arms holding you close to his chest. Both of your bodies were covered in sweat as the cool air only made him pull you closer even more, trapping your body heat within his. Smoke could feel how close you were as your moans became broken cries of pleasure, how your breathing became heavy, and how you moaned out his name – Elijah. Your cooze was gripping him so deliciously that the feeling only encourages his strokes to quicken, then he wrapped an arm around your waist holding you in place as his free hand grabbed a fistful of your hair. Smoke kissed you with hunger, and you desperately kissed him back, sucking on his tongue as he licked into your mouth.
Smoke’s hold onto your body fastened as the coil of lust that wound tightly within your core snapped as he thrusted into you with powerful strokes. Your orgasm ripped through your body like a tidal wave, your mouth trembling against his as tears that pricked at the corner of your eyes slipped down onto your cheeks, it felt as if reaching your peak crashed into him as his hips grew to lazy thrusting. The feeling of your creamy pussy coming so hard around his dick pushed him over the edge, snapping his head back your teeth bit into the soft skin of his neck, biting the hickey that was left behind earlier from you.
Smoke moaned out your name too – that was all he could say as his own orgasm racked through his entire being. He finished inside of you and the warm sensation of him filling you up to the brim made you shiver with pure ecstasy, the creamy mess the both of you made stuck between the two of you yet Smoke still held you within his arms as heavy breathing filled the chilled air. You nestled your face on his neck, and the feeling of his once face paced pulse slowed against your lips, grounding you as his fingers massaged circles on your sore scalp. His dick was still deep inside of you, but you wouldn’t dare for him to pull out, him being so close to you like this made you feel...Good.
Nobody ever made you feel like that before...
You reached for Smoke’s face, cradling his face as your thumb traced over his lips and mustache, and the feeling of his beard tickled the palm of your hand as he leaned into it. A deep sigh escaped from Smoke’s lungs, rolling his shoulders as his hands roamed the plushness of your thighs that locked him in place. Your eyes lingered on his profile, kissing the corner of his mouth, and your eyelashes fluttering with each peck you gave him. “I still can’t stand you,” a soft chuckle fell from your lips and you could’ve sworn you saw Smoke smile at your words. “But you can stay the night...I ain’t ready for you to leave yet.”
“Weren’t you headin’ out?” Smoke asked in a tired tone, turning to face you as both of your noses bumped into each other, yet he gave you a kiss that lingered onto your cheek. The feeling of that kiss was so damn tender and gentle that you almost melted within his hands. With a shrug of your shoulders, you told him you were, but it didn’t matter much now. You already had all the fun you needed with the man you truly wanted from the start; you reached over him towards your nightstand, fishing for another cigarette to share with Smoke who was too preoccupied with playing with your necklace with his thick fingers. “Too late for you to go out anyways.” He mumbled mostly to himself, but alas you still heard it. With a roll of your eyes, you finally pulled yourself from his lap. The feeling was so overbearing that a moan and a shiver involuntarily came from you, which earned a low yet quick chuckle from Smoke. The sound of it shocked you and with a huff you asked.
“You laughin’ at me?”
“Nah, just...Laughin’ at the situation.” He replied, you handed him the lit cigarette, yet all he did was lean over. Smoking the cigarette directly from your hand and the feeling of his plump lips pressed against your fingers made the butterflies within your stomach flutter with excitement. Leaning back, he blew the thick smoke out of his mouth. He was comfortable in your bed, that’s for sure. But as quickly as the playful atmosphere came, it went, and now both of you sat in silence as the cigarette smoke fluttered within the chilled air of your room. “I hope this ain’t the last time.” Smoke muttered which caused you to tuck your legs underneath yourself. There was no denying that you liked Smoke...A lot and it seemed that the feelings were mutual with how passionately you two were on each other moments ago.
You looked outside your window, the glass foggy and wet due to the rain, yet the moon loomed overhead so brightly you were sure it was watching both you and Smoke. “Why you actin’ like you don’t know,” you leaned forwards towards him, the thin cigarette hanging loosely between your lips. “If I can recall you the one who said this pussy was yours...You not claimin’ her no more?” A giggle was followed by your crass words which in turn made Smoke playfully suck his teeth.
“Yea, but you in the habit of actin’ funny.” Smoke said which made you gasp dramatically.
“When have I ever? Besides, I’d never hurt my brave soldier. Treatin’ me so good. Yea, you’re stuck with me,” You sighed, leaning down to catch his lips with yours. The kiss shared was different from the quick pecks or sloppy licks. It was as if both of you were sealing a deal with each other, a wordless promise shared within the soft kiss. Pulling away from Smoke, you then whispered against his lips. “You still need proper trainin’ though, can’t have my soldier thinkin’ he don’t gotta follow my orders.”
Needless to say, Smoke was excited to see just how thorough your ‘training’ with him would go...
Summary: If your family found out about you and Smoke’s horizontal tango, you’d never hear the end of it!
Pairing: Elijah “Smoke” Moore x Black!Fem Reader
Warnings: smutty smut, explicit language, use of n-word, unprotected sex, creampie, teasing
Word count: 1.4k
Kinktober 2025 Masterlist
The night had a weight to it, the sort that made the air feel like magnolias and rain. The old ceiling fan ticked away, slowly, above the parlor, and chatter from the juke joint two streets over reached your ears through the window.
You were supposed to be relaxing, lost in the stillness of the night before your family returned home from the revival. You didn’t want to hear all that hootin’ and hollerin’ tonight. But then the back door creaked, soft and deliberate, and you knew that sound. Smoke never used the front like a normal man. Then again, Elijah Moore was nowhere near your average man.
“You got to be one crazy-ass nigga,” you whisper-shouted, stepping out of your bedroom.
“You say that shit every time,” he said, his voice low as a hum.
“That’s cause it’s true.”
He grinned in the dark. The light from the streetlamp caught the gold in his watch and the leftover cigarette ash on his thumb.
“You gon’ keep whisperin’ like that, or you gon’ say a nigga’s name for real?”
“Man, ‘gon on…” you mumbled as you rolled your eyes and folded your arms across your chest, but your heart was already beating too fast. “You forget people besides me sleep in this house, Smoke. You tryna get my ass in deep shit.”
“Ain’t tryin’ to get you in trouble, baby. Just tryin’ to see if you can stay quiet like you did last time.”
Your face warmed as the memory flashed through you; he saw it, the way your breath hitched and thighs clenched, and chuckled under his breath.
“Knew you’d remember,” he said softly. “Shit, even if you didn’t, I’m here to remind yo ass.”
You tried to hold on to your composure, but he stepped closer, the scent of tobacco and river water clinging to him.
His voice slid right against your ear, velvety smooth. “You ain’t always gotta be quiet,” he whispered. “I like hearin’ what I do to you.”
“I can’t risk it,” you said, too quick, too shaky.
“We’ll see.”
The wooden floor creaked as he moved comfortably, leading you back into your bedroom and shutting the door with a kick; outside, a whip-poor-will bleated out once, then twice. Everything else was quiet, except for the sound of your unsteady breathing. The anticipation was killing you because you suspected he was going to fuck you so hard you couldn't keep quiet.
“We ain’t got time for dick suckin’ and cooze eatin’,” you sassed as you spread over the bed, head settling comfortably against the pillows. “Get to strokin’, nigga.”
He chuckled deeply while following you on the bed. With a skilled quickness he unzipped his britches and pulled himself free, knees sinking into the mattress while he peered down at you, dress hiked up to your waist, no panties. “Oh, you bold tonight. It’s only been what—a week since I last fucked you. You missed it, huh?”
He lined himself up against your entrance, dragging his tip up and down your wet slit, only stopping to smack the swollen head against your sensitive clit, making you gasp and jerk beneath him in anticipation.
He slowly pushed inside, and your mouth fell open, but you quickly closed it, fighting back the scream that was about to escape.
“Goddamn,” he groaned deeply, pulling out a little once he was halfway in and sinking back in, watching your pussy stretch around him. “You done closed up on me after a week?”
“Maybe if you fucked me more than once a week, I wouldn’t be so damn tight.”
He grinned at your sassy rebuttal, knowing damn well he was about to put a stop to all that back talk. He pulled all the way out before plunging back in, damn near knocking the wind out of you.
“Oh my god, Smoke,” you gasped, clutching his giant arms and spreading your legs wider to grant him better access.
“What happened to stayin’ quiet, hmm?” He teased as he kissed your lips.
“Shut up,” you grumbled against his lips, trying to take in deeper breaths through your nose.
He straightened up and began thrusting inside you, intensifying the tempo once he discovered a good rhythm. Soon, the room was filled with the sound of your wetness, his hips grinding hard against yours, and his heavy breaths.
“Smoke,” you moaned breathlessly. He groaned in response as he was beginning to enjoy the way you got louder with each stroke.
“C’mon, baby,” he grunted softly, hand squeezing your breast through your dress, “My name the only word you know now?”
You were only halfway through the witty retort when the faint rumble of an engine interrupted the silence. Headlights danced across the sheer curtains, throwing pale stripes on your walls.
“Lord have mercy—” you whispered. “That’s daddy’s Buick.”
Smoke frowned. “Shit, Ray home already?”
“Fuck! Both him and Ruthie must’ve left the revival early.”
A car door slammed outside, and shortly after, the high-pitched squeal of the front screen followed. Your father’s deep voice boomed through the hall, half scolding, half exhausted, and your little sister giggled behind him.
You nearly threw Smoke right off the bed. “Hide, fool!” you hissed.
He slid off the bed onto the floor, quick and silent, crouching in the shadow between the dresser and the window. You smothered a laugh as you took in the way his dick shimmered with your juices in the dark. The old boards creaked once under his weight, and you both froze, anxious as hell.
Footsteps sounded in the front room, then in the kitchen. A match lit up, wafting the smell of pipe tobacco onto the floorboards, alongside the scent of honeysuckle outside the open window.
Ruthie giggled again. After a few static minutes, the house settled again, wood cooling and insects buzzing outside.
Smoke looked up at you from the floor, brown eyes glinting in the dim light. He rose without so much as a sound, moving close enough to you that the air around you became charged again.
“Hush now,” he whispered, luscious lips brushing against your ear. “One sound, and they’ll know exactly who’s in your late mama’s house.”
You swallowed hard, heart pounding loud, thinking it would give you away. “Yo ass is the devil, Smoke,” you muttered.
He grinned, low and mischievously. “Why you keep lettin’ a nigga in every time he knock then, huh?”
You didn’t respond because you weren’t willing to admit the reason. Even if his smug ass already knew it.
“Let me sneak you out…” you whispered as you gripped his shoulder.
“Fuck that,” he shook his head, snatching away from you. “We ain’t even nut yet.”
“Smoke,” you exhaled sharply as you pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. “If we get cau—“
“—You want to cum tonight or not?”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he smirked, stroking himself slowly. “Now bend that ass over so I can get back to work.”
You braced your hands against the mattress, locking your knees back, damn near all the way up on your tippy toes. The thrill of getting caught was damn near enough to send you over the edge.
He gripped your hips and gently rocked back into you, circling his hips a few times before setting a pace that wasn’t too rough but still had him fucking the breath right out of you.
It didn’t take long for your walls to tighten back up around his fat dick; you trembled silently, choking on your own gasps and whimpers. He slapped a hand over your mouth as you came around him, your scream of pleasure muffled in his palm.
“Mhm, that’s what the fuck I’m talkin’ ‘bout, baby,” Smoke grunted as he yanked you up until your back was pressed against his chest, hand still covering your mouth while he kept stroking. “Give me all that shit.”
You bit into his palm, hoping that your moans weren’t heard past your teeth digging into his flesh as he not so subtly rammed into you, chasing his own release. He let out a hushed groan, thrusts faltering as he spilled inside of you.
“No way in hell I’m waitin’ another week to be inside you again, Y/N,” he said lowly in your ear as he dropped his hand from your mouth, sliding it down your chin to grip the base of your neck. “You hear me?”
You nodded as you took in deeper breaths through your nose. “I hear you.”
“Good,” he chuckled softly as he kissed your cheek. “I’ll be back in two days.”
Summary: You and Smoke have been having a little fling for a while now. But Smoke pushes you too far. And now it’s time to show him you can play the game just as well as him, and remind him who he’s dealing with.
Warnings: cheating if you squint, p in v, fem receiving oral, use of n word, banter, and cussing
Authors notes: i’m so sorry for making yall wait so long for this. This was very long so i think my next few pieces will be short. I have a lot more ideas to come tho! Enjoy!!
He is not my man.
I mean, yeah he be at my place more than his own. He got a designated space in my closet for his clothes, he sometimes gets packages sent to my address, and my neighbors think he’s my husband…
But Elijah Moore is not my man.
And I wasn’t his woman neither.
Or at least that's what we tell everyone…
Me and Smoke wasn’t nothing but a good time to each other at first. The risky nights, flirty texts, and playing house was fun and all at first. But then I fell too deep into our fake fantasy.
Smoke has everything I want in a man–drive, ambition, quite confidence and he gave me sex that made me forget my own name. Everything I dreamed of, but he didn’t give me the security, honesty, and title of the relationship I wanted.
I used to care, I used to ask, I used to cry about the women that approached us in public like I was some homewrecker, the days when he would leave and not talk to me, the late nights where he would up and go handle “business” without putting on proper clothes or packing his work bag. And I say this with my chest because I will never again fall for his games.
He use to gaslight me so well I thought I was going crazy and made up the entire thing. And I tried to leave, put the mess of a relationship behind me but Smoke can make you feel like you the only one, even when you know for a fact you’re not.
And I always knew, I always knew.
Between the late replies, dirty stares from women I don’t know in shops giving me dirty stares, and the way his phone magically stayed face down every time he came over.
I’d have to be stupid to not know.
But now?
I play it cool. Smile in his face, moan in his ear, and act like I’m not being used. Because I know I can run game too. He wants to be a player? Bet you I can play dirty too if not dirtier.
Because even when he’s out chasing whatever new girl that caught his eye, he still ends up in my bed. He might go ghost for a day or two, but he always shows back up with that same sorry ass smirk like he ain’t been doing me wrong. But I know I mean something to him because I’m the one he slips up and calls when he’s drunk, the one he trusts with his silence, his stress, his secrets. I’m not stupid—I know I’m not the only one he touches, but I’m the only one that sees Elijah Moore. They might get Smoke, but I get both. And maybe that makes me just as dumb as them, but at least I’m the one he always runs back to. Even if he pretends like he’s just passing through.
I don’t return the energy to the same extent—not 'cause I’m loyal, but 'cause none of them other dudes make me feel what Smoke do. They don’t got that pull on me. They don’t got that calm but dangerous aura that make your knees weak and pride nonexistent. And I hate that. I hate that I crave the same man that got me second-guessing my worth, but still got the power to fuck me like I’m the only woman in the world. They couldn’t handle me anyway—not like he can. So I let him think he winning… while I lose my damn mind behind closed doors.
But tonight he did something that was a new low.
I should have know something was off when he showed up to my door with flowers.
Smoke ain’t ever gave me no fucking flowers. He do give orgasms and headaches. He do “You good?” texts at 2 in the morning. But flowers. Roses? Never .But there he was—standing in the doorway like a fever dream—holding roses like that alone could undo months of hurt. They were fresh too, like he’d actually cared enough to stop and pick the best ones for me. The red looked loud against the cool evening light, too loud for a man who whispered lies in a voice so calm it sounded like love.
That was guilt wrapped in a heart shaped box. With a weak ass smirk.
“What’s this for?” I asked, leaning against the doorframe of my front door with my arms crossed. Staring at him with confusion and surprise in my voice.
He smirked. “ I can’t do something nice for you?” He says dressed in his typical grey suit with a blue tie, with a caring but deceitful look in his eyes.
He walked past me like he owned the place– even though some days he practically lived here. He dropped the roses in the middle of my dining room table like they meant something to me and then found his way back to me by sliding his arm around my waist. I let him. I always let him. Because I deserve some fun out of this too.
The night started like our normal routine. Dinner. Jokes. Laying in his chest while telling him about my day. He even started talking to me about how he wants to take me on a getaway trip so he can show me the world. Which should have been red flag number two. But again I just wanted to get the most out of him being with me.
The third flag was what got me though.
I was looking for one of my heels that I had recently broken on accident in hopes I could get a little money out of him for all the problems that come with him. But while I was looking I saw a little velvet box tucked in the bag he packed to spend the night.
At first, my heart jumped–thinking that maybe something came over him and knocked him into his senses to commit to me. Thinking maybe it was a promise ring or something stupid like that.
But as I got closer I realized how familiar the box looked. When me and Smoke started messing around he gave me a gold anklet as a little keep me in mind gift. And I still wear it to this day because you cant see it under my clothes in public, it makes him pound me into the mattress when he sees while we fucking, and because I thought it was a genuine gift he was giving me because he cared.(you’re a dummy bitch)
Out of curiosity I kneeled down checking my surroundings to make sure he wasn’t about to come help me look for whatever I came in my room for. I opened the box to see the exact anklet that was on my leg. The box has a note attached to it that read,
“To J.”
“J… Who the fuck is J?” I thought to myself. My blood immediately started to boil. Vision blurring. But I collected myself to steady my hands as I closed the box and zipped his bag right back up with a smirk on my face. This was my green light to start fucking with him.
I walked back into the living room. I didn’t ask no questions. Didn’t start a fight. Didn’t even make a petty remark. I gave him one more night, one last kiss, and last moan. Letting him think everything was sweet. Made it real good too, gave him my all.
Because tomorrow?
I’m getting my lick back.
Next day
I woke up like I knew nothing.
Played the same role—sweet, soft, and familiar. I kissed him good morning, made him breakfast, even ironed the shirt he accidentally wrinkled from throwing it in his bag.
He was still in bed by the time I was done, shirtless in only his underwear, stretching like he ain’t just spent the whole night with his tongue in me. The sun crept in through the blinds, laying golden ribbons across his broad muscular back. He looked good—too damn good for someone who didn’t deserve me.
I walked past the bedroom doorway with my coffee in hand, making sure to get all his shit together so he could be on his way. I looked like a woman coming down from a long night—curls falling messily from the makeshift bun, nightgown straps slipping off my shoulders from running round the house. But the second I heard his voice, I paused.
“Damn, you just gon’ walk past me like that?” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep and fake concern.
“Didn’t know you were still here,” I replied over my shoulder, taking a slow sip from my mug. “Usually you’d be gone by now.”
He chuckled, that lazy one he does when he thinks he’s charming.
“That how we acting today?”
I kept moving, gathering his keys, wallet, phone charger—placing everything neatly by the door.
“I made breakfast. Even ironed your shirt. What else you want?”
“I thought maybe we could chill for a second.”
I glanced over at him, leaving my bed, half-dressed and stretching. Taking his sweet time like he ain’t planning to meet another girl in a few hours. “I’ve got stuff to do. You got places to be and people to see, don’t you?” I tilt my head, all sweet like honey over broken glass.
He raised an eyebrow, trying to read me.
“You good? I just wanted to make sure my girl was alright after last night.” He grinned—half pervert, half innocent—as if the memory of his mouth on me gave him the right to ask.
“I’m great,” I said with a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “Got what I needed, didn’t I?”
He laughed, low and amused like he thought I was playing. But I wasn’t.
I brushed past him, slow enough to feel his heat, fast enough to pretend it didn’t burn. Before I left the room, I paused.
“Your shirt’s on the couch, still warm. Coffee on the counter, take it to go.”
I walked toward the hallway mirror, pretending to fix a loose curl, but really, I was watching him through the reflection. Watching him fake like he wasn’t confused.
He moved slow, dragging himself out into the hall, “Damn, you rushing me out?”
I turned, still calm. “Not rushing,” I shrugged. “Just... reminding you that you do have somewhere else to be. I mean, don’t you have brunch plans? I know I’m not the only per—I mean, thing you tend to in your day-to-day.” I offered a soft, fake smile
He smirked. “Why you always doin’ that?” he asked, pulling his shirt over his head, voice dipped in charm and guilt like he didn’t know where he stood.
I turned back to the mirror. “Doing what?”
He walked into the hallway like he owned it—coffee in one hand, confusion in the other. “Throwing lil’ jabs like I ain’t been here every night this week.”
I tilted my head, slow. “And yet somehow, still not doing right.”
That shut him up for a second.
“If you got something to say—”
I cut him off with a soft laugh, eyes still on my reflection. “I don’t. Nothing to say. Nothing new, anyway.”
I walked to the door, held it open like a polite hostess.
“I don’t want to stand between you and your business. They seem to be getting impatient.” I nodded toward his phone lighting up again with a text he didn’t bother hiding.
He looked at it, then back at me. “You really on one today, huh?”
I shrugged. “Not really. Just on schedule.”
He stepped onto the porch, shirt tugged, ego bruised, still confused
“You good though?” he asked again, this time softer. Smaller.
I leaned against the doorframe, cool and casual.
“Always,” I said.
And then I slammed the door in his face.
Later that day
The silence in the apartment after he left was thick. Like the walls were holding their breath, waiting for me to fall apart.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I ran a hot shower, scrubbed him off my skin, and let the steam cleanse every trace of him from my pores. Then I pulled open my closet and picked the one dress I knew would make someone stare too long and think too hard.
It was satin—deep red, the kind of red that doesn’t beg for attention but demands it. It clung in all the right places and slid over my thighs like water. I slipped on gold hoops, sprayed the perfume he used to compliment before he stopped noticing, and glossed my lips.
I needed to get back at Elijah in a way that would make his blood boil. Elijah used to have a friend named Darius that always showed me a little too much attention when me and Elijah would run into him. Compliments that were too attentive, gifts too expensive, and hugs that were intended to be more than friendly.
Elijah hated it. Hated him.
Then my phone lit up:
Darius: I’m outside.
I smiled to myself, grabbed my bag, and walked to the door with the same grin smoke gives when he’s fucked me over.
We walked into Club Eden like we’d done it before. Darius had one hand on the small of my back, the other in his pocket, grinning like we go together. I kept my chin high, every step deliberate, the red satin of my dress catching the lights just right. Heads turned, we looked good, and I knew it. But I wasn’t here for the stares. I was searching for one face in the crowd. Just smiling, slow and sweet, as Darius guided me deeper inside the club I knew too well.
Smoke wasn’t hard to spot.
Even in the low-lit haze of Club Eden, he stood out like sin dressed in success. Black slacks tailored to perfection, button-up open just enough to show that gold chain he never took off, and a gold watch to match catching flashes of light as he leaned back, calm and calculating.
And he wasn’t alone.
She sat next to him, legs crossed, laughing because she didn’t know about our twinning anklets. It shimmered around her ankle like a middle finger straight to my face.
I didn’t react. Couldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Instead, I leaned back against Darius, legs draped over his lap like it was second nature. I smiled, slow and sweet, twirling my straw in my drink as if I wasn’t locked in a silent war with the man across the room.
Smoke’s eyes met mine—dark, unreadable, but I knew that look. His jaw was clenched. His tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek. The girl next to him leaned in to whisper something, and he didn’t flinch, didn’t move. Just kept his gaze on me like I had his whole night wrapped around my finger.
Good.
I tilted my head, let my curls fall over one shoulder, and whispered something in Darius’s ear. Didn’t matter what, I just needed to see Smoke look at me.
He did and I knew I had him right where I wanted him.
“Wanna dance?” I asked Darius, my voice soft but just loud enough. He grinned like he’d been waiting for the invite. “You know I do.”
The second I stood, I felt Elijah’s stare follow every step I took. I didn’t look back. Just led Darius to the dance floor like we owned it. The bass hit heavy, the colorful led lights spun soft, and I let my body move—slow, effortless, sensual. Darius tried to keep up, hands respectful but curious. I didn’t care. I wasn’t dancing with him for him. I was dancing for the man sitting in the corner pretending he didn’t care.
Elijah didn’t move. Didn’t blink. But when I twirled to catch his gaze again—he was gone.
Just like that.
I smirked, satisfied, even as my chest tightened.
“I’ll be right back,” I told Darius, brushing a kiss on his cheek before slipping toward the restroom.
The bathroom was cool and quiet. I touched up my lip gloss, adjusted my dress, and took a deep breath. The game was fun, but it was stressful. And I was starting to feel the heat of it rise to my skin.
I opened the door, and there he was.
Smoke.
Leaning against the wall like. His arms were crossed. His shirt sleeves rolled up just enough to show the tattoos on his forearms, jaw tight, eyes darker than I remembered.
I blinked. “You lost?”
He didn’t smile. “Was about to ask you the same thing.”
I crossed my arms, mirroring him. “Bathroom’s not your usual hangout, is it?”
“I saw you dancing,” he said, voice low and clipped. “Looked like you were real comfortable.”
“Why wouldn’t I be? Darius is sweet,” I said, letting the name linger to make sure it burns.
His jaw flexed. “He’s a clown.”
“He’s not you,” I shrugged. “That’s kind of the point.”I look at him with amusement because I know i’m getting under his skin.
“You really brought him here?” he asked, stepping closer. “To my spot?”
“Oh, my bad,” I said with mock concern. “Didn’t realize I needed permission to come to the club. Should I check in next time?”
His tongue dragged across his teeth like he was trying not to snap. “You knew I’d be here.”
I tilted my head. “Did I?”
He scoffed, stepping in just close enough that I could smell his cologne. “You doing all this for what? Huh? To make me jealous?”
I smiled. “Ain’t nobody checkin for you Smoke?”
His hand came up, not touching me—just hovering near my waist like muscle memory. As he towered looking down at me, “You think I care about Darius? You think I give a fuck about that lame ass nigga?”
I leaned in, just a breath from his lips. “Well… he was talking real good about having dessert back at my place. So maybe I will leave your “spot”.”I give him a menacing grin.
His whole body tensed.
“You lyin’,” he said, but his voice cracked just enough to expose the panic under the rage.
I laughed. “Am I?”
I stared up at him, not moving. “See, I think you care more than you wanna admit. But I think you should head back to your little date. I wouldn’t want her ankles to get sore waiting on you.”
He flinched. Just a flicker. But I saw it.
“Keep playin’ with me,” he warned, voice almost a whisper. “You forget, I know how to handle you.”
I laughed, low and bitter. “Yeah? If that’s what you want to call your lame ass stroke game.”
His mouth opened—but I started to walk away before he could respond. Because I was definitely lying about his stroke game unfortunately.
“Have fun tonight, Elijah,” I said, brushing past him, the scent of my perfume trailing between us like a dare.
And then I walked away—hips swaying, heels clicking, heart pounding—but head held high.
As the night continued I still felt the heat of Smoke and his date that hes not paying any attention to anymore on me. I continued to dance, flirt, and laugh with Darious to prove that I can play game too. I even let Darious’s hands explore my body a little. Rub my thighs, grip my ass a little while dancing, let his hands run up and down my curves. By the time the lights came on in the club and all the drunks were scrambling out to their rides. I let Darious drive me home.
The car ride was actually nice. The moon was bright and full, soft R&B music was playing, and the conversation we had was amazing. Darious is a really sweet guy, but I know it would be wrong to drag him into me and Smoke’s mess. Plus I don’t want smoke to kill him…
We made it to my apartment and I knew I wouldn’t have much time until Smoke showed up at my door to interrogate me. Darious wanted to come up, but I knew if he did someone would end up in jail. So I said my goodbyes to Darious and promised him another night out soon as I walked back into my apartment.
As soon as I walked through the door I took a quick shower, changed into a silk blue night gown with white lace trimming, fluffed my curls, removed my make up and prepped my skin for whatever is going to happen in the next few hours. Lastly I got myself a glass of wine and sat on my couch and read a book as I waited for him. I didn’t know what I was going to say, but I needed to be ready nonetheless.
Not even twenty minutes late I hear a loud banging at my door. Three quick, violent knocks. Like the wood itself owed him an answer. I didn’t rush.
I took my time taking a last sip of wine, stood slowly, let my silk nightgown cling to my hips like it was made to tease. I walked barefoot to the door, cool and collected, like I hadn’t been waiting on this exact moment since I walked out of that damn club.
I opened the door just enough so he could see me. And there he was leaning against the door frame using one of arms for leverage.
Pupils dilated with nothing but anger. Jaw tight. Other hand clenched at his sides trying to contain himself.
“Where that nigga at?”
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t play with me,” he snarled, stepping inside like this was his home. His head was on a swivel. “You let him fuck you?”
I shut the door. Walked right past his rage and sat on the edge of the couch, crossing my legs with purpose.
“Hello to you too Elijah, come one in?” I stated.
“Answer the question,” he snapped.
I smiled, slow and dangerous. “I don’t have to do shit.”
Smoke stepped closer, his whole body on fire with fury.
“You wasn’t gon’ fuck him.”He looked at me like he was challenging me to give him the wrong answer to send him over the edge.
“Wanna bet?” I raise an eyebrow and give a deceitful smirk.
He snatched the glass from my hand, set it down with a rough thunk, and stepped between my knees. Boiling with anger waiting for me to say the wrong thing to make him explode.
“Say that shit again.”
I looked up at him, lips parted just slightly.
“I was gon’ let him taste every inch of me… then let him sleep right where you do.”
His hand wrapped around my throat in a flash—tight, hot, possessive.
“You gon’ let another man lay where I sleep?” he growled.
I smiled, the tension around my neck turning me on, breath hitching. “I was gon’ let him do more than that.”
He paused. That’s when I stood up. No fear. Just slow, deliberate grace as I walked past him and down the hall.
“You can keep lookin’ for him if you want,” I said over my shoulder, “but if you was really scared I let that man touch me, you’d be too late. He left already.”
I didn’t wait to see if he followed. I went straight to my bedroom, sat at the vanity, touched up my lip gloss with calm hands. Behind me, I heard heavy footsteps pause in the doorway.
His eyes were all over the room. Searching. Burning.
“You think this shit cute?” he asked, voice gravel-thick. His eyes looked me up and down almost in disgust and jealousy.
I met his gaze in the mirror. “No. I think it’s fair.”
He stepped inside, slower now. Confused. Angry. Hurt. “What the fuck mean by that?”
I turned on the stool and faced him, legs crossed again. My night gown starting to rise a bit up my thighs.
“It means I’ve been waiting on you to choose me, Elijah. Or at least grow a pair and tell me that this bullshit we got going on isn’t going nowhere. But you’d rather keep me close, fuck me, then go back to pretending I don’t exist.”
His mouth opened, but nothing came out. His shoulders dropped like the weight of my words finally registered.
“I’ve given you space, time, silence. I’ve let you spin this thing however you wanted, and I stayed. Quiet. Loyal. Patient. But I’m done beggin’ a “grown-ass” man to act like one.”
Smoke’s jaw flexed. His hands were twitching at his sides like he didn’t know whether to grab me or punch a wall.
“So yeah,” I said softly. “I let him touch me. I let his hands roam a little. Not ‘cause I wanted him. But because I needed you to feel what it’s like to watch the person you believed was yours go play boyfriend to other bitches.”
Smoke’s jaw clenched hard enough to crack bone.
I watched him. Calm on the outside. Heart thudding like a war drum on the inside.
“You really was thinking of letting that nigga touch you?” His voice was low now. Dangerous. “He don’t even know what to do with you.”
I stood up slow, walked toward him like prey that didn’t fear the predator. “He may not know how to handle me,” I said, standing chest to chest. “But at least he acts like he wanted me.”
That landed. Hard. He blinked once—tight, sharp—like the words had cut straight through his ribcage. His hand gripped the back of my neck, and whispered against the shell of my ear.
“I ain’t act like I wanted you, huh? Was that before or after I fucked you outside that club becuase you was letting niggas grind on you and I had you cryin’ and creamin’ on my dick?”
My breath caught.
“Or when I had you bent over your own counter, sayin’ you was mine with a mouth full of my name? Because you like flirting with dudes in front of me. That's not ‘wantin’ you’ either?”
My knees pressed together tight.
“You sayin’ he acted like he wanted you…” he scoffed. “Cool. But did he make you cum in under five minutes on your bedroom floor? Did he eat you ‘til your voice broke because you was hitting up the dudes in your DM’s?”
“Shut up,” I breathed, voice shaking.
“Say it,” he taunted, eyes on fire now. “Tell me he could have touched you like I did. Tell me he could have made you forget your own fuckin’ name. When you go out half naked with your girls and come back with ten new numbers in your phone”
“I—” My chest rose and fell too fast. “He didn’t.”
Smoke’s gaze burned through me.
“I didn’t lose you,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “Even when you out here pretending like I’m the only one fucking up. You ain’t been right by me either.”
My mouth parted, but I didn’t respond.
“You mine,” he said. “Still mine.”
He stepped forward as I kept moving back, until the backs of my knees hit the bed. Still, he hadn’t laid a single hand on me—but I could feel every word on my skin.
“Say it.”
“Say what?”, I give him a confused but intrigued look.
“You know what the fuck I’m askin’, ma.”
My mouth opened, but he didn’t wait.
He dropped to his knees and pushed me back on to the bed.
“I should make you beg,” he growled. “After that bullshit you pulled tonight.”
“But I missed this pussy…” he muttered, shoving me back onto the bed, hands pushing my nightgown up slow.
He paused. Smirked. “No panties?”
I smiled, real smug. “Why wear ‘em when I knew you was gonna end up on your knees anyway?”
His eyes darkened. Jaw clenched.
Then his mouth was on my clit immediately. Hot, angry, wild.
He licked me like he was punishing me, tongue stiff and fast, nose buried deep like he needed every drop. He groaned when I whimpered. Flattened his tongue against my clit, then flicked it until my hips jerked.
“Say who it belongs to,” he growled against me.
I gasped. “Fuck—”
He sucked my clit hard enough to pull the words out of me.
“Say it.”
“Fuck you Elija–”
He slapped the inside of my thigh. “Try again.” starting like and suck faster.
I gave in, my climax was near and continued to build, “It’s yours! It’s your pussy!”
His eyes locked on mine, lips shiny and glistening with me. “Damn right.” He licked me slower now, dragging it out, two fingers slipping inside me, curling just right.
My back arched off the bed.
“Louder,” he whispered. “Let the whole fuckin’ building know who got you cryin’ like this.”I whimpered his name, high and cracked, as he tongue-fucked me like he needed it to breathe.
“Had me stressing bout you letting some other dude in here?” he muttered between licks. “In this pussy?”
“Wanted you to feel it,” I moaned. “Wanted you to know—what it felt like.”
“Never again,” he growled. “You mine. You hear me?”
“Then act like it,” I snapped, as I begin grinding against his face. “Act like I’m yours.” I say as I grab the back of his head to push him further in to me.
He laughed low, filthy. “Oh I’m ‘bout to show you, baby.”
Then he dove back in, no mercy, dragging me through a climax so hard I shook, hands fisting the sheets, moaning his name like a prayer and a curse all in one.
My thighs were still shaking when he stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand like he’d just devoured something messy and rare.
He looked down at me—lips glistening, chest rising and falling, jaw tight with hunger.
“You talk too much,” he muttered.
“I was making a point.” I snap back, out of breath.
He grabbed my waist, flipped me over onto my stomach like I weighed nothing.
“Yeah?” His voice dropped. “Make it now.”
I didn’t have time to speak—he yanked my hips back, arching my ass high in the air, pressing my face down into the mattress with one heavy hand on the back of my neck.
“Say that shit again,” he hissed into my ear, breath hot. “Say how he acted like he wanted you.”
“Elijah—”
“Mm-mm.” He pressed harder on my neck, not enough to hurt, but enough to let me know who was in control. “You wanted Daddy’s attention?”
He lined himself up, thick and heavy against my soaked entrance. His other hand gripped my ass, spreading me open.
“Well, you got it now.”
And then—he thrust inside me, deep and fast. No hesitation. No gentleness. Just raw, angry, need.
“Fuck!” I try to muffle my moan as I pushed my face into the mattress.
“Nah, don’t get shy now,” he growled, snapping his hips against me again, again. “You was runnin’ your mouth a minute ago. Where all that shit talk go?”
The slapping of skin echoed through the room, loud and wet. His hips slammed into mine, balls smacking against my clit with each brutal stroke. The bedframe creaked under the force, the mattress giving under the weight of his big, muscular body.
Smoke’s build was all lean muscle and hard edges—wide back, thick arms caging me in as he pounded into me from behind, I could feel the tension radiating off him.
“You wanted to make me jealous? You wanted me mad?” he breathed, chest pressing into my back. “Well, now you got me.”
He drove deeper, grunting, hips rolling in filthy rhythm. “This what you wanted, huh? Daddy stretchin’ you out like this? Say it.”
I whimpered, arching into him, my ass bouncing back against his thrusts.
“Say it.”
“It’s what I wanted,” I moaned into the pillow. “I wanted you—fuck—I needed you.”
He leaned in closer, biting the curve of my shoulder.
“You mine, baby. You don’t gotta play games for me to see you. You all I ever see.”
He fucked me harder then, no mercy. My pussy clenching around him, trying to keep him in with every stroke.
“Look at this pussy suckin’ me in,” he growled, voice thick with possessiveness. “You act up just to get it like this, don’t you?”
His palm came down on my ass, the sting making me cry out.
“You love it when I fuck you back into your place, huh?.”
I could barely respond, the way he was hitting made my thoughts scatter like dust. All I could do was moan and take it.
“You gon’ behave now?” he asked, yanking my hair so I lifted my face off the pillow. “Or you need another round?”
“Give it to me,” I panted. “I can take it.”
That did something to him. His next thrust knocked the wind outta me.
“You do all this talkin’, just to shut the fuck up when this dick in you. That’s your problem.”
The pace got even filthier—fast, relentless, dragging sounds out of both of us that had no place outside of a bedroom.
The air was thick with heat and sweat and desperation.
“Say you mine again,” he ordered, breath ragged. “Say it like you mean it.”
“I’m—fuck— i’m yours, Daddy.”
That sent him over. He slammed into me one last time, deep and hard, filling me up with a loud groan that vibrated against my spine.
I followed right after, walls pulsing around him, toes curling, throat raw from moaning his name.
We collapsed together, breathless and shaking, tangled in the mess we made.
He was still catching his breath, eyes fluttered shut, mouth open like he was trying to gather himself.
I sat there for a second, letting the weight of what just happened settle between us. Sweat slicked my skin, my curls wild and frizzy from all the grinding and grabbing and all that heat. My chest heaved. I watched his body twitch—sensitive, eyes closed, overwhelmed, but still so hard for me.
He didn’t even notice me move.
Until I straddled him again. Hovered over him, lined us up—
And slammed down on his dick.
“Shit—!” he yelped, eyes snapping open like I’d snatched his soul. “Wait—wait—baby—”
I bounce on him hard, grinning down at him like a beast that finally caught its prey.
“You good?” I asked sweetly, breathless.
He gasped barely able to make a sound. “Damn, girl—”
“Thought so.”
I started to move. Slow at first. Just enough to hit him right. His whole body tensed, trying to brace, but he couldn’t. He was too sensitive, and I was overriding his nerves.
“I’m tired of bullshit, Elijah. I want to settle down,” I reminded him, voice low, sultry, taunting. “You going to be better for me, baby?”
“I—I am,” he stammered, jaw tight. “I am, baby—I swear—”
I sped up.
That had him groaning, loud and full in his chest. His hands shot to my thighs, gripping, begging me to slow down—and I didn’t.
“You gon’ answer when I call?” I asked, breath hitching from how deep he was hitting. “No more games?”
“Yes! I got you, baby, just don’t—don’t stop—”
I moved faster.
“Say it again,” I demanded, hips rolling harder, rougher. “Louder.”
“I’m gon’ do right! I swear to God, I’m—fuck—”
He tried to hold my hips, tried to make it last, but he couldn’t keep up. He was shaking, whining, and I loved every second of it.
But so did I.
Every stroke had my moans cracking, turning breathy and sharp, like I was losing the same control I held over him. I started to tremble too, thighs quaking, chest heaving. He was hitting that spot, again and again—stretching me just right.
My hands landed on his chest to steady myself, nails digging in. “You better,” I gasped, voice splintering. “You better fucking do right by me.”
“I will—I swear—baby, please—”
I felt it creeping up on me—my legs tightening, the heat coiling in my belly. “Oh my God—Elijah—”
“Come for me,” he begged, hips bucking under me. “Let go, baby. I got you.”
That did it. I shattered around him with a loud, raw cry, my walls clenching hard, dragging his name out like a prayer. My body folded forward as I pulsed around him, riding every wave, every tremor, until my whole frame shook.
His voice broke under me, hands locking around my hips like he never wanted me to move again. “That’s it, baby… fuck, that’s it.”
Breathless, dazed, I slumped against his chest, heart pounding, sweat glistening on my skin.
“I’m sorry,” I moaned against his neck. “I know I ain’t been fair either.”
His hands slid up my back, holding me tighter.
“I ain’t mean to hurt you,” I whispered. “I just needed to feel wanted too.”
“You got me, ma,” he said hoarsely. “You been had me.”
“I don’t wanna fight no more,” I breathed. “But you gotta do better.”
“I will,” he promised, kissing the side of my face. “You got my word.”
We laid there tangled in silence, both of us wrecked and breathless
~ I hope you liked it! Also send me some asks if you have a request, question, or fic ideas!!
the morning sun poured through the kitchen window, spilling warm streaks of light across the worn wooden floor.
the smell of fresh coffee lingered in the air while biscuits browned in the oven.
you stood at the stove, carefully stirring a pan of eggs as the familiar voice of granny echoed from the front room.
"y/n!"
"yes'm?"
you adjusted the oven door before reaching for another skillet.
salt pork crackled as it hit the hot cast iron.
just as you reached for the coffee pot to take off the burner, a knock sounded at the door.
granny wiped her hands on her apron rising from her chair.
"i'll get it."
you continued cooking.
a moment later...
"well, look who the lord done sent!" granny shouts out
you paused trying to get a listen.
"mornin', miss claudia."
that voice...
"sammie?" you ask yourself.
you quickly peeked around the doorway.
sammie is standing on the porch with a woven basket tucked beneath one arm and his guitar resting across his shoulder.
"come on in, baby!"
granny stepped aside.
"what you standin' out there for?"
sammie laughed softly.
"mama sent me over with a few things for the church ladies."
he handed over the basket.
"said these was for you and miss eleanor."
"mmm."
granny nodded approvingly grabbing it.
" tell your mama i said thank you."
"i sure will."
you stepped into the doorway.
"...sammie."
he looked over.
"there she is!"
you smiled.
"i wasn't expectin' to see you again so soon."
"neither was i."
he chuckled.
granny interrupts clapping her hands once.
"well, don't just stand there jawin'! come in sammie!"
granny grabs sammie by the shoulder, bringing him to the dining table
"and you ain't leavin' my house without eatin'!"
"oh, no ma'am."
sammie waved both hands
" i'm alright. i ate alrea-"
"i said...you ain't leavin' hungry."
there wasn't much arguing after that.
you smirked to yourself shaking your head at granny's antics.
some things just never change.
granny turned toward the kitchen.
"y/n!"
"yes'm?"
"warm them biscuits back up!"
"fry him a couple more eggs."
"cut up that salt pork."
"and put that coffee back on!"
"yes ma'am,"
you tied you apron on a little tighter before returning to the stove.
behind you, granny had already settled sammie at the table.
"so.."
"how ya mama doin'?"
"she's doin' alright."
" and passa?"
"he good too."
"you still keepin' yourself busy?"
sammie laughed.
"everday."
you quietly carried over the coffee pot.
before sammie could reach for it, granny took the handle first.
pouring it for him.
"there now. that's how you pose to start your mornin'"
she finishes, pouring her a cup
"y/n! hurry up with them plates na! this man gotta eat!"
"it's alright miss claudia. ain't inna rush."
sammie says attempting to get granny to stop badgering you.
"boy hush! gal should've been had that food done!"
sammie shakes his head subtlety not to trigger granny furthermore.
you huff quielty clenching your teeth returning to the stove.
♡♡♡
breakfast was ready.
you carried each plate to the table.
eggs.
biscuits.
salt pork.
fresh coffee.
granny beamed proudly.
"there!"
"now that'll stick to your ribs."
sammie gave a smile and nod towards you in appreciation and then looked towards granny.
"thank you, miss claudia."
"awe..hush! call me granny!"
you quietly took the empty skillet back toward the sink.
before you could even reached it—
"y/n."
you turned.
"yes'm?"
"bring me that jelly off the counter."
you nodded.
"yes, ma'am."
a few minutes later—
"y/n!"
"Mm?"
"fetch another napkin."
"yes, ma'am."
then
"y/n!"
"bring me that butter."
"yes, ma'am."
sammie noticed.
every time you finished one thing...
another followed.
never complained.
never sighed.
never rolled your eyes.
you simply...
did it.
" uhh...miss clau—granny? ain't y/n gonna sit n eat too?"
" awe, don't worry bout that baby! y/n got all day ta eat! you's my guest."
...
by the time breakfast ended, you was already gathering empty plates.
"i'll get those." sammie tries grabbing the used dishes.
" aht aht, she got em!"
granny intervenes with a raised hand
sammie looks towards you for confirmation.
"i got 'em." you say stacking the dishes before carrying them back into the kitchen.
water ran into the sink.
coffee cups and silverware clinked softly against the basin.
the conversation in the dining room continued while you quietly washed dishes alone.
sammie found himself glancing toward the kitchen more than once.
you hadn't sat down since he'd arrived.
not once.
a little while later...
granny finally waved him toward the front door.
"you tell your mama thank you again."
"i will."
"and don't be no stranger."
"yes'm."
you followed him onto the porch.
the late morning sun had climbed higher now, warming the old wooden steps beneath y'all feet.
for a moment...
neither of you spoke.
"i'm glad we finally got a chance to catch up."
you smiled softly.
"me too."
"it still feels strange."
"what?"
"seein' you after all these years."
you laughed quietly.
"i know."
a breeze stirred through the pine trees.
sammie adjusted the strap of his guitar.looking back to check if granny wasn't close by
"you doin' alright?"
you blinked.
"...yeah."
"you sure?"
you smiled reassuringly.
"i'm alright, sammie."
he studied you for another second.
he wasn't entirely convinced.
but he also knew better than to push.
instead...
he smiled.
"when you finally get yourself a free day..."
you looked at him curiously.
"...yeah?"
"go enjoy it."
you tilted your head.
"what do you mean?"
"i mean..."
he shrugged.
"go somewhere."
"walk through town."
"sit by the creek."
"do somethin' just because you want to."
a thoughtful smile crossed your face.
"i'll keep that in mind."
"you should!"
sammie chuckled.
"life got more to offer than the same four walls."
you looked back toward the house.
then back at sammie.
"...i hope so."
before either of them could say another word—
"sammie!"
granny's voice rang through the screen door.
"you come back now, ya hear?"
"and tell your mama i said thank you!"
"yes'm!"
he tipped his cap.
"i better get on."
you nodded to him
"tell your mama I said hello." granny adds on again
"i will."
"and passa too!
" you take care na! God bless!"
"i sure will granny. God bless you too."
"see you 'round y/n."
"see you sammie."
you respond softly with a wave as he started down the porch steps.
you watched him disappear down the dusty road until he was nothing more than a figure against the nississippi morning.
only then did you quietly step back inside.
the smile on your face lingered...
right until another memory slipped into your thoughts.
smoke.
"you gon' see me again."
heat crept into your cheeks.
you shook your head.
"...Lord."
the late morning, mississippi sun beat down on the dirt road as sammie made his way back toward town, his guitar resting comfortably across his shoulder.
he hadn't made it but another mile before the familiar rumble of an engine rolled up behind him.
a sleek black sedan eased alongside the dusty shoulder.
the passenger window slid down.
stack leaned halfway out with that same crooked grin plastered across his face.
"well, if it ain't preacher boy!"
sammie laughed.
"mornin'."
stack looked him over.
"boy, what you doin' all the way out here?"
"headed back toward town."
"walkin'?"
sammie shrugged.
"unless the good Lord done blessed me with wings."
stack barked out a laugh.
"boy, get your smart ass in this car!"
sammie chuckled before opening the back door and climbing inside, laying his guitar carefully across the seat beside him.
the familiar scent of leather, tobacco and lingering summer heat filled the car.
smoke sat in the passenger seat, hat tipped low over his brow.
he glanced back just long enough to nod.
"preacher."
"smoke."
that was all that needed to be said.
the greeting was comfortable.
familiar.
family.
the sedan rolled back onto the road.
for a minute...
nobody said much.
only the steady hum of the engine and gravel beneath the tires filled the silence.
finally, stack spoke.
"so..."
"where you comin' from?"
"miss claudia's."
stack frowned.
"...miss claudia?"
sammie nodded.
"mama had me droppin' some things off from church."
then it clicked.
stack slowly looked toward smoke...
then... back at sammie.
a grin stretched across his face.
"hold on..."
"you mean miss church dress?"
sammie chuckled.
"yeah."
smoke didn't move.
didn't say a word.
stack slapped the steering wheel.
"i'll be damned!"
"how long you stay over there?"
"longer than i meant to."
"granny wasn't hearin' me leavin'."
" y/n fixed breakfast."
"eggs."
"biscuits.
"salt pork."
"fresh coffee."
sammie leaned back against the seat with a satisfied grin.
"man..."
"best breakfast I done had in a good while."
"me and my siblings usually split whatever mama can throw together before everybody scatters for the day."
stack's eyes widened dramatically.
"shit..."
"you tellin' me miss church dress out there feedin' folks like that?"
sammie laughed.
"i'm just tellin' you what happened."
stack shook his head dramatically tapping on his brother's shoulder.
"smoke..."
"we might needa swing back 'round there."
smoke cut his eyes toward his brother.
one brow lifted.
stack only grinned wider.
"what?"
"i'm just sayin'"
"you done?"
stack and sammie chuckles.
"not even close."
the laughter settled.
sammie's smile slowly faded.
"but..."
"truth be told..."
"i felt bad for her."
the joking eased.
stack glanced at him through the rearview mirror.
"why you say that?"
sammie looked out the passenger window for a long moment before answering.
"she never stopped movin'."
"the whole time i was there..."
"she fixed breakfast."
"poured the coffee."
"served the food."
"cleared the table."
"washed dishes."
he shook his head.
"and every time she'd finish one thing,miss claudia'd call her again."
"'y/n!'"
"'go put this away.'"
"'y/n!'"
"'bring me that.'"
"'y/n!'"
"'come do this.'"
sammie sighed, shaking his head.
"i tried speakin' up or helpin' but, that granny would shut it down. y/n would tell me she got it. aint wanna make somethin' worse for her."
"i was there close to an hour."
"i don't think she sat down once."
silence settled over the sedan.
the joking...
gone.
smoke stared ahead through the windshield.
his expression remained unreadable.
then...
almost absentmindedly,
"she seem alright?"
sammie nodded.
"yeah..."
"little tired, maybe."
"said she was fine."
smoke gave one small nod.
"...Mm."
another quiet bout settled over the car.
a few more miles passed beneath the tires.
then smoke asks
"... y/n fixed all that food?"
sammie looked toward the passenger seat.
"yeah."
"every bit of it."
"granny mostly sat there askin' me about church n stuff while y/n kept everything movin'."
stack slowly turned his head toward smoke.
the grin returned.
"that's three questions."
smoke didn't bother looking over.
"you countin' now?"
"damn right."
stack laughed.
"five minutes ago, your ass ain't had nothin' to say."
"now you over here conductin' interviews."
sammie laughed quietly to himself.
smoke rolled his jaw.
...
stack wasn't finished.
not by a long shot.
he looked back toward sammie.
"well..."
"how'd she look?"
smoke immediately cut his eyes toward his brother.
stack pointed across the seat.
"see?!"
"i asked it for you."
sammie laughed, shaking his head.
"thought he wasn't interested."
stack pointed toward smoke.
"don't let him fool you."
"his nosy ass just forgot to ask."
smoke clicked his teeth not even looking over at his brother and cousin
" y'all finished?"
"nah..."
stack says leaning his chair back in the driver’s seat.
"you ain't let sammie answer yet."
"gone head."
"answer the question..."
"then i'll hush."
sammie laughed.
"she looked like herself."
"sweet."
"soft-spoken."
"a little wore out...but, she still smiled."
smoke lookes back out the windshield.
that answer seemed to settle something inside him.
he didn't say another word.
stack watches him for another second before a slow grin spreads across his face.
"hard-headed ass just be tellin' on himself."
smoke finally turns to his brother with a long stare
"you done entertainin' yourself?"
"almost." stack replies going to another subject with sammie.
smoke clicks his teeth once.
then, without another word, he reaches inside his suit pocket and pulls out a cig.
he coolly slips it between his lips,
stricking the match against the dash.
the flame flared briefly before the tip of the cigarette glowed a steady orange.
smoke takes one slow drag...and exhales.
then, he looks back out the windshield.
the smoke drifts lazily through the open window.
stack chuckled at what sammie said.
"mm-hmm."
"thought so!"
their laughter gradually faded around smoke.
the sedan rolled beneath another stretch of towering pines.
outside...
mississippi drifted by in long stretches of cotton fields and weathered fence posts.
inside...
smoke quietly slipped his unoccupied hand into his suit pocket.
his fingers brushed against a familiar coin.
the spare coin he'd gotten back the day he'd paid for your groceries.
