explicit sexual content (18+) • rough sex • oral (f!receiving) • full nelson position • semi-public/vip room & office scenes • f/f tension • unprotected sex • dom!smoke & dom!stack • light restraint • degradation • parallel sex scenes • thick & big this fic nasty y’all.
The door hadn’t even fully swung open before you and Annie both turned in your chairs, sensing them like thunder before it cracked.
Stack and Smoke walked in real quiet, dressed in all black, the kind of smooth that made the whole damn room feel like velvet.
You leaned back, gloss half-done, eyebrow cocked.
“Mmm. If y’all showin’ up dressed like this, we must be doin’ somethin’ right.”
Annie didn’t even blink. She smirked, dragging one leg across the other slow. “Y’all come to watch or confess?”
Smoke let the door shut behind him and stepped in like he had all night to deal with this heat. “Neither,” he said. “We came to give.”
Stack lifted a small velvet box between two fingers. “For our money-makers.”
Annie leaned back in her chair, teasing, but curious. “What y’all givin’ us now? A raise? A ring?”
You laughed, but your voice came out honey-slow. “Y’all better not be tryna lock us down before we even finish our lashes.”
Stack walked behind you while Smoke glided over to Annie.
“We just figurin’,” Stack said low, near your neck, “if everybody else lookin’ at y’all like gold…”
“…then y’all oughta shine like it,” Smoke finished, box already open in his palm.
Annie’s smile dropped a little. Her lips parted when she saw what glinted inside.
Delicate, glistening. Rich.
You turned as Stack opened his.
A peach. Smooth and heavy like temptation made metal.
Annie whistled, eyes cuttin’ toward yours. “Girl. They really said ‘brand us,’ huh?”
You smirked. “Might as well be a collar.”
“That bother you?” Stack asked, voice dipping like molasses.
You tilted your head, teasing. “Not if I get to tug it now and then.”
He grinned, brushing your hair aside, fingers grazing your shoulder. “Careful. I’ll let you.”
Smoke stepped closer to Annie, slipping the chain around her neck like he’d done it a thousand times.
“You ever seen a man go quiet just ‘cause you walk in?” he asked her.
Annie’s eyes met his in the mirror. “Every damn day.”
“Then this just a reminder,” he murmured, fingers brushing the clasp shut. “You don’t owe ‘em nothin’ but a look.”
She turned real slow, standing to face him. “You want more than a look?”
Stack finished fastening yours. His hand stayed on your skin, fingertips draggin’ slow along your collarbone.
You felt goosebumps rise down your arm like the whisper of sin.
“You don’t know what you do to me,” he said under his breath.
You leaned back into his chest, looked up at him from under your lashes. “I know. And I’m just warmin’ up.”
Annie giggled soft but dangerous. “Y’all gettin’ weak.”
Smoke’s voice came dark. “Strong men don’t need to pretend they ain’t cravin’.”
You and Annie turned at the same time, necklaces glintin’ under the light, confidence wrapped around y’all tighter than any outfit.
“Well then,” Annie drawled, brushing past Smoke like she meant it, “you better hold steady.”
You followed her, dragging your fingers down Stack’s wrist as you passed.
“You might need both hands tonight.”
Just watched you go with heat in his throat and tension in his knuckles.
And somewhere in his chest, he knew—y’all weren’t just the fire.
Yall were the whole damn matchbox.
The music pulsed low through the club—sultry, stretched out, tryin’ real hard to be sexy.
Mary was up on stage now, silver set sparklin’ under the lights, heels hittin’ a little too loud on the platform. She swung ‘round the pole once, real sharp—but it was clear she was still thinking about it. Movin’ with effort, not instinct.
You and Annie sat at the bar, drinks cold in your hands, gold chains catching the flicker of neon. Your legs crossed lazy, body still warm from your set earlier, sweat just now dryin’.
Annie took a slow sip, eyes locked on the stage.
“She tryin’,” she murmured, low enough just for you.
You didn’t answer—just lifted your drink in acknowledgment.
Mary dropped into a split. Loud.
A couple men clapped from the floor. One tossed a five.
Mary rose up, twirled once more, hair flyin’. She smiled out at the crowd, but her eyes didn’t catch anybody’s. Her hands were too stiff, her steps too planned.
“She cute,” Annie said, poppin’ a peanut from the bar bowl into her mouth. “Like prom night cute.”
You let out a breath of a laugh. “Mm.”
Another spin. Another clap.
But your drink was gettin’ more attention than she was.
The bartender came by with a fresh round—on the house. He slid it toward you with a wink. “House special for the queens.”
You didn’t even look at Mary now. Just the glass, the stage lights, and the way Annie’s necklace shimmered with each breath she took.
From behind, Stack and Smoke watched quiet.
Stack leaned against the bar, arms crossed, eyes on you like he could still see that last body roll echoin’ in his mind.
Smoke just shook his head once, slow. “Crowd ain’t movin’. They just watchin’.”
“Not even reachin’ for they pockets,” Stack added.
Mary finished her set with one last spin—off-balance, a little winded.
The room clapped, sure, but it was thin.
You and Annie sat in that hush, untouched.
Your spotlight already earned.
And without sayin’ a word about it—everybody knew it.
Mary stepped off stage, breathin’ heavy, sweat slickin’ her forehead as she adjusted her silver top and tried to shake the wobble out her step. She caught sight of Stack and Smoke at the bar, headed straight for ‘em.
Which meant she had to pass right by y’all.
You and Annie didn’t move, didn’t speak. Just kept sippin’, legs crossed, eyes followin’ her like shadows. Cool and clean. Gold necklaces glintin’ like you was born with ’em.
Mary flipped her hair and put on her best stage smile.
“Heyyy,” she said, sidling up to where the boys stood. “So… how’d I do?”
You didn’t even look at her—just tilted your glass back, the ice clinking slow.
Smoke looked at the floor
“…You got up there,” Stack said finally, clearing his throat.
Smoke nodded, slow. “Sure did.”
Mary beamed. “Right?! I felt real good about it. That spin at the end? I been practicin’ it all week.”
Stack coughed into his drink. “You definitely… went around.”
Smoke bit the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, and, uh… you landed.”
“On purpose,” Stack added, voice a little too bright.
Mary grinned, not catchin’ it. “Right? I thought that split was kinda crazy.”
Annie sipped slow, eyes on her glass. “Mm,” she said, like a gospel hum that held more meaning than words ever could.
You leaned into the bar, lips curled just enough. “Had folks clappin’, too.”
Mary turned, preening. “Yeah! I felt the energy.”
Smoke sipped fast. “Lotta energy.”
“Real… kinetic,” Stack muttered, like he was tryin’ out a new word and wasn’t sure it belonged.
You and Annie exchanged the smallest glance.
Stack cleared his throat again. “Anyway. You—uh—you showed up.”
Smoke nodded fast. “Definitely… a performance.”
Mary looked pleased as hell, nodding to herself as she walked off, swingin’ that little silver number like she’d just dropped a masterpiece.
As soon as she was outta earshot, Stack let out a slow breath. “Lord have mercy.”
Smoke huffed. “That girl danced like a Roomba with too much attitude.”
Annie nearly choked on her drink.
You turned to Stack, smiling sweet. “You tried real hard not to lie. I’m proud.”
He looked at you, smirkin’. “Ain’t wanna hurt her feelings. She got heart.”
“Mm,” you said, sipping. “She gon’ need it.”
Mary disappeared backstage, hummin’ to herself like she just got a standing ovation instead of polite applause.
You and Annie were back to your drinks, the glow from the bar casting that rich, lowlight shimmer across your skin. Quiet. Cool.
You blinked, looked up at him. “Ready for what?”
Smoke stepped forward, resting one hand on the bar. “To get back up there.”
Annie leaned back, brows raised. “Ain’t nobody said nothin’ ‘bout us havin’ another set.”
Stack shrugged, but there was that glint in his eye. “We ain’t seen y’all together since that night.”
“Mm,” Smoke added, sippin’ slow, eyes on Annie’s mouth. “Thought maybe it was a fluke.”
Annie’s head snapped toward him. “A what?”
Stack grinned. “You know… maybe it hit right ‘cause it was new. Lucky spark.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You sayin’ we got lucky?”
“I’m sayin’… let’s see if y’all can do it again,” Stack said, voice low, fingers drumming the wood of the bar.
Annie laughed, leaned her elbow on the counter, facing them both.
“Oh y’all real bold tonight.”
Smoke didn’t flinch. “We just tryna see if the magic got legs.”
Annie turned to you, lips curled. “He must’ve bumped his head.”
You tilted your head, staring Stack down. “You wanna test us?”
“We test what we payin’ for,” Stack said, smooth.
Annie leaned close to you, voice a whisper just for the two of y’all. “Girl… they miss it.”
You didn’t need to say a thing. You already felt that slow heat buildin’.
Annie straightened up, slid off her stool, all hips and promise. “Alright then.”
You followed, slow and deliberate, gold glintin’ on your chest.
Annie threw a look over her shoulder at them both. “Let’s see if y’all can handle it twice.”
Smoke lifted his drink with a smirk, but his hand gripped the glass a little tighter
Stack just licked his bottom lip, watching you walk toward the dressing room like he already knew—
The dressing room was thick with heat now. Not from sweat or nerves—but from that pull between you and Annie. That unspoken hum you could feel in your chest before you ever hit the stage.
She turned from the fridge, flask cold and dripping in her hand, and stepped in close.
You watched the slow rise of her chest, the glint of her necklace where it sat just above her curves. She was already taller in them heels, but the way she looked down at you now? That was deliberate.
“Let me warm you up,” she whispered.
You didn’t speak. Just tilted your chin up, soft and sure.
Her hand slid around your throat, not tight, just present. Thumb brushing that delicate spot beneath your jaw as she held your gaze and brought the flask up. She didn’t rush it—poured slow and smooth straight into your mouth, never breaking eye contact, her other hand bracing the small of your back.
Whiskey kissed your tongue. Her fingers kissed your skin. You swallowed with a little gasp, chest rising into hers. Her thumb traced your bottom lip.
“That’s my girl,” she murmured.
You blinked, your voice low and warm. “Now we ready.”
She smirked, but you could feel the charge between y’all clingin’ like static. She turned first, heels tapping back to her mirror, like nothin’ happened—but you stood there a second longer, breath shallow.
Then you moved, slow and sure, slickin’ oil on your thighs and neckline. Annie looked at you through the mirror.
“What we dancin’ to?” she asked.
You tilted your head. “Somethin’ smooth. Laced with bass. Give them a chance to regret openin’ they mouths.”
“Mona Lisa,” she said without blinking.
You grinned. “Now that’s dangerous.”
She stood, fixed her straps, and followed you out. No more words.
The hallway was dark, shadows spillin’ like ink around your heels as you clicked toward the DJ booth.
Stack and Smoke stood up top in the balcony, drinks forgotten in their hands.
“Where they goin’?” Stack asked, eyes narrowing.
Smoke didn’t answer. He could already feel it. That pull.
Down below, your silhouette slipped into the DJ’s booth.
“Play it,” you said, your voice a velvet thread. “Wayne. Mona Lisa. You know what time it is.”
The DJ gave a little nod. Then the lights dimmed. Low. Dirty. Like a secret about to get told.
The stage stayed empty for a breath. Just long enough to build.
Then Annie stepped out first, hips rollin’ slow to the intro strings—dark lashes low, every step deliberate, like she was settin’ a trap.
You followed right behind her, smooth and steady, your gold catching every flash of red light that flickered along the pole.
And then that beat dropped.
Y’all didn’t move fast. No. This dance wasn’t about speed—it was calculated.
Annie slinked down the pole while you circled it, y’all bodies flowing together like silk and smoke. She bent forward slow, her backside brushing against your thigh, and you caught her waist—held her steady as she rolled up.
Stack leaned forward, elbow on the rail, lips parted.
Annie sank to her knees, crawled around you slow, face inches from your hip as she looked out at the men below.
You gripped the pole and let your body coil around it, thighs grippin’ hard, your hair swingin’ low as you inverted slow, upside down, back archin’ to the bass.
Wayne’s voice snarled through the speakers:
“And when they leave they get followed”
And y’all moved like the punchline.
You pressed into Annie’s back, bodies flush, then peeled away like y’all had secrets to keep from each other—like the betrayal in the lyrics was your damn alibi.
The pole wasn’t a prop—it was the weapon.
Smoke exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for hours.
Stack didn’t even try to look cool no more.
Just gripped the edge of the rail, eyes locked, mouth tight.
On the floor, tips started flutterin’. More and more. Rain without thunder.
That storm was brewing behind their eyes.
The bass hit low and ugly, and the lights soaked the stage in red.
Annie strutted slow under the spotlight, hips rollin’ like molasses mixed with malice. You followed, smooth and sharp, gold gleamin’, hair swingin’ with every slow step. The pole stood dead center, but it wasn’t the focus.
“I got a bitch named Keisha, got a bitch named Lisa…”
Wayne’s voice twisted through the speakers like a snake around a neck.
Annie dropped to her knees, archin’ up slow, hands skimming your thighs as you leaned over her shoulder. Your bodies moved in sync—pull, release, snap, grind. You climbed the pole while she circled, ass swayin’ like she was followin’ the scent of blood.
From the balcony, Smoke’s jaw tensed.
Red satin sheets, a silver pistol on the nightstand. Some man with a Rolex smilin’ too wide, thinkin’ he about to win.
Stack outside the door. Smoke behind the curtain. And some girl—pretty, cold, dressed in sin—askin’ him to take his belt off.
You spun slow, upside down, thighs locked on the pole, hair just grazin’ the floor before you slid back upright. Annie followed, pressed behind you, her mouth inches from your ear, never sayin’ a word—but her eyes?
Stack leaned forward, eyes narrowed, fists clenched tight over the railing.
A strip club in Baton Rouge.
Smoke at the bar. Stack in the back booth.
Two girls they never saw again, but still remembered—
One with gold hoops. One with a laugh like glass shatterin’. They made off with thirty grand in a duffel bag and Stack’s favorite lighter.
Down on the stage, Annie bent over slow, legs wide, arms dragging like she was huntin’. You leaned into her back, the two of you swayin’ like vipers.
It wasn’t just sexy—it was criminal.
You didn’t dance for tips.
You danced like you was makin’ somebody disappear.
Smoke swallowed hard. “If we had them back then…”
Stack didn’t answer at first. Just stared. Breathing hard
Then, low: “We’d’ve never made no damn money.”
“We’d’ve killed any man that even tried to get close.”
Stack nodded, slow. “Ain’t no price on that kind of touch.”
Down on the floor, bills hit the stage like confessions.
Y’all just kept dancing—like y’all already knew the ending.
Like y’all were the ending.
The last note of Mona Lisa dropped like a blade.
You and Annie stood center stage, bodies still and glistening under the lights, breath slow and deep—like lions who just finished feeding.
Then, like nothin’, y’all turned and walked off.
Crowd still murmur-thirsty. Bills still flutterin’.
But y’all didn’t look back once.
Behind the curtain, the dark hit like relief and fire all at once.
Smoke and Stack waited for you just off to the side—drinks in hand, postured cool like they ain’t been practically undone upstairs. Like they wasn’t leanin’ forward, brows tight, blood boilin’.
But their eyes told the truth.
You headed straight for Stack, his gaze locked on you like a heat-seekin’ missile. “You somethin’ else,” he said, voice a little hoarse.
You grinned, breath still high in your chest.
He stepped in close, hand brushing your waist. “Always.”
That did somethin’ to you. You didn’t even try to play it off. Your hands slid down the lapels of his suit jacket, fingers draggin’ over the velvet, grippin’ near his hips.
His hand came up, thumb under your chin, palm pressin’ light but firm to your throat. He tilted your head slow, deliberate, leaned in close —kissed your temple.
And damn if it didn’t feel like a spell in itself.
Over to the side, Annie was already makin’ her move.
She was posted at Smoke’s side like she’d always belonged there, leanin’ in, eyes gleamin’ with somethin’ unreadable. Her lips brushed close to his ear, but she didn’t whisper soft.
Something thick and sugar-dark that only he would understand. His eyes flicked to hers, that cool mask barely holdin’. She slid her hand up slow, fingertips draggin’ from his chest to his neck, lingerin’ at his pulse like she could count every sin he ever committed just from the rhythm.
Whatever she said left Smoke stuck for a breath.
Still.Swallowed hard.Then he exhaled.
“Yeah,” he muttered, like it was all he could manage. “Yeah, that.”
Stack glanced over, caught the way Smoke’s jaw had gone tight, the way Annie was smirkin’ now like she had the upper hand and knew it.
“You good?” Stack asked, still holdin’ you close.
Smoke didn’t even look away.
You leaned in closer to Stack, your body still warm, his cologne all in your lungs now.
“You sure we ain’t gotta dance again?” you teased.
Stack smiled slow, that dimple showin’.
“I’on think I could take it.”
The VIP room was thick with low light and sin-slick laughter.
Y’all had kicked off your heels, legs stretched out, money everywhere—piled, spread, floatin’ down like confetti with no shame. All earned. All deserved.
Annie leaned back on the plush red couch, counting slow with one hand, other wrapped around a champagne glass. You were on the floor, grinnin’, fingers runnin’ through stacks like they was water.
“Damn,” you laughed, holding up a fistful. “We might break the floor.”
Annie raised a brow, lips curled. “We might buy the floor.”
You tossed a handful in the air just to see it rain again. “I oughta do a money angel.”
Annie took another sip. “Do it, bitch.”
You collapsed back into the mess, arms wide, gigglin’, bills stuck to your thighs and collarbone.
Then you sat up slow, lips twitchin’ with a devious grin.
“Aight, aight,” you said, voice dropping an octave, brows furrowin’ like you was thinkin’ deep. “Check it—this how Smoke be.”
You pulled your body together, sat back stiff like you was keepin’ every inch under control. Shoulders high. Hands folded. Eyes low like he ain’t never tryna look too long.
You turned to Annie, deadpan. “Nah. Nah, y’all got it. I’m good.”
You kept goin, head tiltin’, voice dropped extra low:
“Y’all wild. Mmm.” You nodded slow. “Crazy. I’on even like dancin’.”
Annie wiped her eyes, chest shakin’.
You leaned back against the couch with your arm out like royalty. “Go on then.”
She stepped onto the money like a stage, shoulders loosening up, face switchin’—chin high, lazy smirk, that same damn swagger you’d seen on Stack a hundred times.
She moved slow, hips rollin’ like silk, eyes never breakin’ from yours.
She pointed at you, lip curled just enough.
Then threw bills at your chest, one by one, like she was blessin’ you.
“Go ‘head then,” she said, mimickin’ that drawl. “Show me somethin’, golden girl.”
You threw your head back laughin’, but that heat started crawlin’ back under your skin. The way she moved, the way she stared—it stirred that dancer’s switch in you.
And gave it right back—slinkin’ toward her like it was the club again, pelvis lazy, touch light, rollin’ your body to some invisible beat as you slid a twenty down her stomach.
“Ooh, Stack like that,” she teased, eyes hooded.
Then she dropped low, leaned back in real close to you—grip on your waist, her body grindin’ slow as she whispered, “Smoke definitely like this.”
You both laughed—but neither one of y’all had to say it:
And that’s when the door opened.
Smoke and Stack stood there like shadows stitched from bourbon and fire, leanin’ in the doorway, arms crossed.
They’d been watchin’. Long enough to catch all of it.
Stack raised a brow. “So that’s what I look like?”
You straightened up, grinnin’. “Little bit more confused. And with a toothpick.”
Annie turned to Smoke, straddlin’ the couch like she ain’t give a damn. “You ain’t say nothin’ the whole time.”
Smoke stepped inside, shut the door behind him slow. “Was waitin’ to see how deep the lie was gon’ go.”
Stack shook his head, laughin’. “Y’all some fools.”
But neither of ‘em looked mad.
Annie smirked from her seat on the couch, legs crossed, neck still glistenin’ with sweat and mischief.
“Well,” she purred, “if we was so wrong…”
She dragged her finger through the bills on the table, eyes flickin’ up to Smoke, slow and sly—
“Why don’t y’all show us how it’s really done?”
You blinked, brows raised, but your grin was already stretchin’.
Stack looked at Smoke first.
Smoke stepped in like he wasn’t walkin’—like he was claimin’ territory. Jacket already off, sleeves rolled, that watch glintin’ on his wrist.
His hand curled under Annie’s chin, thumb glidin’ slow along her jaw. “Keep talkin’ like that,” he murmured, voice velvet and heat, “you gon’ find out how quick I take the air out your lungs, cher.”
Smoke pulled her in tighter, mouth at her ear now, low and deep. “You wanna play? Or you wanna beg?”
And Annie—Annie—bit her lip and dropped her eyes.
Stack turned to you with that damn smile—the one that always said “you been actin’ cute too long.”
“Oh, so I’m confused?” he asked, steppin’ close, real close, until you had to look up at him. “A little slow?”
You opened your mouth to clap back, but he was already there.
His hand caught the back of your neck, slidin’ low down your spine, grip firm, warm.
“Say somethin’ smart now,” he whispered, his lips just ghostin’ your cheek. “Go on. Make it good.”
He grinned wider. “Thought so.”
Easy. Effortless. Like you ain’t weigh a thing. Sat you right down in his lap on the velvet couch, hands still on your hips, thumbs brushin’ under your top.
“You gon’ talk,” he said low, mouth pressed right beneath your ear, “or you gon’ listen while I remind you who you dance for?”
Annie was damn near melting into Smoke’s lap now, his hand behind her head, pullin’ her close, whisperin’ soft Creole threats that made her eyes flutter shut and her thighs shift.
The room went hazy with heat and power.
Just men and women finally lettin’ go. Finally lettin’ loose.
And baby… they showed out.
You sat in Stack’s lap, legs parted just enough for him to settle you there, his palm splayed low on your back, thumb glidin’ slow under your shirt. Not pushin’, not grabbin’—just there. A promise. A warning.
He ain’t say nothin’ else, not yet. He just let the weight of his body, the heat of his breath, speak for him.
“You feel that?” he murmured finally, lips brushing your temple.
You nodded, lips slightly parted, chest risin’.
“That’s control,” he whispered. “Yours slippin’.”
Behind you, Smoke was all stillness—but it was the kind that came right before thunder. Annie sat in his lap now, straddlin’ him with her hands on his chest, but she wasn’t grindin’. She wasn’t playin’.
She was lookin’ at him like he held the damn sky.
Smoke reached up, slow, took her chin in his fingers, forced her eyes on his. “You still got more mouth?” he asked, soft.
Annie’s smile was breathless. “You want me quiet?
Smoke tilted his head. “I want you obedient.”
That hit her deep. You could see it in her knees.
She bit her lip—and faltered.
Stack leaned in closer to you, his fingers now slidin’ up the inside of your thigh. Not touchin’ too bold—just there. Near enough to pull heat up from your gut.
“I can feel you tremblin’,” he muttered. “And I ain’t even kissed you yet.”
You inhaled sharp, your hand fisting in his jacket, tryin’ to stay steady, tryin’ to not lean in, not melt into him—but it was gettin’ hard. That smartness he teased you about? Gone. Fadin’ with every pass of his thumb on your skin.
She leaned down, real slow, and kissed Smoke—not soft. Not gentle. She kissed him like she finally let go, like she was sorry for holdin’ back this long.
Smoke kissed her back deep, one hand behind her neck, other slidin’ down to grip her ass, pullin’ her tighter into him like he could fuse their bodies together.
You grabbed Stack’s collar, pullin’ him in—and he didn’t waste time.
He crushed his mouth to yours, hot and commanding, like he’d been starvin’ for it. His hand wrapped tighter around your thigh, the other comin’ up to your face, holdin’ you steady as he kissed you slow, deep, devourin’.
Your body arched into his. His breath got rough. Yours got shaky.
Money rustled beneath y’all like dry leaves, but neither of you noticed.
Only thing that mattered now was mouths, hands, heat.
Annie broke the kiss with Smoke, breathless, smilin’ dazed.
“You win,” she whispered.
Just stared at her like she was dessert and he ain’t ate in weeks.
Smoke’s grip on Annie’s hips tightened as she rocked against him, heat spreadin’ thick between them, both of them breathin’ like they’d been sprintin’ through a thunderstorm.
She kissed along his neck now, slow and wet, teeth just ghostin’ skin, hands slidin’ under his shirt, her body sayin’ yes before her mouth ever did.
His eyes flicked over her shoulder.
Hands buried in his jacket, his mouth claimin’ yours like he paid for the deed in blood. Your hips shiftin’, rollin’ gentle and sure against him, his hand slid up the back of your top like he couldn’t get enough of you.
It hit Smoke deep. That possessive twist. That raw, male heat in his gut.
Annie moaned low, grindin’ down harder—intentionally. She felt it. She knew he saw. She wasn’t stoppin’. If anything, she was gettin’ bolder.
“Don’t look at her,” she whispered against his jaw. “Look at me.”
Smoke grabbed her waist tighter. His jaw flexed. She was makin’ it worse—the way she rode his thigh like she belonged there. The way her tongue traced his earlobe. He could feel the pressure buildin’, that ache grindin’ down into his spine.
But he wasn’t about to lose control here.
Not with you and Stack in the room.
He exhaled hard through his nose, hands snapping down to grab Annie by the ass and lift her off him.
She gasped, caught off-guard, eyes flashin’.
“Come on,” Smoke said, low and sharp, voice a promise and a threat all at once.
“Where we goin’?” she asked, but her grin was wicked, breath still shakin’.
She blinked. Smiled slow.
Didn’t even fix herself . Just glanced back at you and Stack once, winked, and slipped out the door behind him.
Smoke held the door open with one hand, waitin’ on her to pass, watchin’ her walk like he was countin’ every sway of her hips. Before he shut it, he looked back at you.
Stack’s hands slid down the backs of your thighs as he pressed you into that velvet, eyes dark with focus. He leaned in, breath brushin’ your ear.
“Let me see what I been starin’ at all night,” he murmured.
You started to answer, but your voice caught when his mouth met your collarbone, tongue hot, teeth draggin’ just enough to make you whimper. His hand gripped your jaw, anglin’ your head just how he wanted.
“You talk too much sometimes,” he said low. “I want you breathin’. Moanin’. Not speakin.”
But when his mouth slid down—past your neck, across your chest, fingers pullin’ your top aside like it owed him money—your breath left your lungs with force.
Annie sat perched on Smoke’s desk like temptation with hips.
He stood between her knees, jacket gone, button-down halfway open, eyes draggin’ slow over every inch of her. She leaned back on her palms, skirt hiked up, thighs open like an invitation written in red ink.
“You gonna look at it or you gonna taste it?” she whispered, eyes sharp.
He grabbed her hips, pulled her to the edge of the desk, and leaned down, mouth at her stomach, kissin’ slow like he was drawin’ a map to her heat. His hands slid up her sides, draggin’ her blouse open, baring skin inch by inch.
“You always this bold?” he said, breathin’ against her breastbone.
“Only when I win,” she smirked.
He licked a line up her chest.
“You ain’t win shit yet.”
Stack pulled your leg over his shoulder, mouth draggin’ down your inner thigh. You gasped, body archin’ under him, his hands firm at your hips holdin’ you down like you might float away.
“Look at you,” he muttered. “Tryna be all strong and sweet. But you soft, huh?”
He kissed the inside of your knee, slow and filthy.
You bit your lip, tryin’ not to beg. His mouth was so close but never quite where you wanted it. He was takin’ his time, teasin’ you with heat and hands and praise.
He slid two fingers under the edge of your panties—just enough to let his thumb drag slow over the wetness there.
“Golden,” he whispered again. “Drippin’ in it
“You just lost,” Smoke said again, voice low as hell.
Then he kissed down Annie’s stomach—not fast, not greedy. Like he was carvin’ her open with heat, with breath. She leaned back on her elbows, thighs fallin’ open wider without her meanin’ to.
He hooked a finger in her panties, pulled them slow, then tossed them to the floor without lookin’.
“You still bold now?” he asked, kissin’ the inside of her thigh.
She let out a breath. Didn’t answer.
He got lower. One long lick.
She jumped. Fists grippin’ the desk edge, eyes wide.
Didn’t pause. Just kept goin’—tongue steady, mouth open, beard wet.
He wrapped an arm under her leg, hand palmin’ her thigh while his other hand flattened over her belly, pressin’ her down.
“Keep runnin’ from it,” he muttered, breath hot. “See if I stop.”
She whimpered. Head fell back.
But he ain’t let her run. He guided her through it—every moan, every twitch, every wave that hit her so hard she damn near slid off the desk. His tongue rolled just right, his lips lockin’ on that swollen spot with suction that made her damn toes curl.
“You feelin’ that loss now?” he whispered, lips brushin’ slick heat.
Annie shook, hands tangled in his hair, legs flexed hard.
Smoke smirked against her, voice like gravel.
Stack was a whole different storm.
He had you splayed out on the couch, thighs wide, knees bent, legs shakin’.
He’d been eatin’ you like he was starved, like he needed it to breathe, tongue flickin’, lips suckin’—switchin’ it up every time you got close just to watch you fight for it.
Your hips kept buckin’. Your hands in his curls kept pullin’. But he held you down hard, hands on your hips tight enough to bruise.
“C’mon, baby,” he said, mouth barely liftin’. “Don’t hold back now.”
You moaned, breath shudderin’.
“You almost there, huh? I can feel it.”
His tongue dragged slow, deep.
You whined, legs tremblin’.
“Oh now you remember my name?”
He licked you again, slower this time, nose pressed deep, beard scratchin’ perfect.
He moaned into you like that was what he’d been waitin’ on. That right there. Your voice beggin’. Your body climbin’.
He pushed you over and over, mouth locked on you, rhythm cruel. He’d slow down right when you needed more, speed up right when you couldn’t take no more
And when your hips started to run? He pressed his forearm over your belly and pinned you flat.
“You gon’ take this,” he growled.
Shakin’. Cryin’ his name into your palm.
Not even when Annie came apart, legs wrapped around his neck, moanin’ in Creole. He licked her through it like she was the finest thing he ever put his mouth on.
When she said she “ couldn’t take it”?
He looked up, beard soaked, tongue peekin’ from between his lips.
Annie sat up best she could, made her way over him, legs straddlin’ Smoke’s lap now, her hands slidin’ down his chest, feelin’ the rise and fall of every shallow breath he tried to keep steady.
“Mmm, thought you was teachin’ me,” she purred, grindin’ her hips slow, rollin’ just right over the hard press of him beneath his slacks. “But you shakin’ like a sinner in church.”
Smoke exhaled through his nose, tryin’—failing—to keep his hands off her waist.
She smirked, leaned down, lips draggin’ over his throat.
“You need a break, old man?”
He growled, low and dark, hands ballin’ into fists.
“Don’t start nothin’ you can’t finish, chère.”
“Oh, I’ma finish,” she whispered, grindin’ down harder now, lips right at his ear. “You just better keep up.”
You flipped Stack over, his back hittin’ the couch, your thighs slidin’ over him like smoke.
His eyes widened just a bit, that cocky smile twitchin’.
“Ain’t no shame in tappin’ out,” you teased, hands on his chest, rockin’ your hips with delicious rhythm. “I’ll still kiss you goodnight.”
Stack grinned—but his hands gripped your waist like he was already losin’ patience.
“Ain’t nobody tappin’ but you,” he muttered.
Let you grind over him, kiss his throat, press your mouth to that place behind his ear that made him grunt low in his chest. Your fingers slid down the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one like unwrappin’ somethin’ forbidden.
You licked his chest slow.
Whispered: “You shakin’.”
Annie leaned in again to kiss Smoke—but his hands snatched her hips mid-move, grip rough, and before she knew it—
He flipped her back onto the desk.
She gasped, eyes wide, hair wild across the polished wood.
“Done lettin’ you play,” he said, voice dark, already slidin’ her back to the edge.
She laughed—but it was breathless.
“Finally,” she whispered.
Smoke bent low, mouth hot on her neck, hips grindin’ into her again with slow, deep pressure.
Stack’s grip snapped tight at your hips, and before you could blink—
He sat up. Chest to chest. Arms caged around you like steel.
“You done?” he asked, breath warm on your lips.
Your answer got swallowed when he stood—with you still wrapped around him.
He slammed you back down onto the couch, his body coverin’ yours, eyes hungry and bright.
“I been nice long enough,” he muttered, lips draggin’ down your neck, teeth brushin’ your collarbone.
He slid his hand between your thighs again, middle finger glidin’ through your heat like he owned it.
“Now lemme show you what I do to mouthy lil things like you.”
Annie’s back arched on the desk, hair stickin’ to her neck, eyes flutterin’ as Smoke pulled her closer to the edge, his hands locked behind her knees.
She was already breathin’ heavy, lips swollen from kisses, thighs tremblin’ from what his mouth had done.
But when he unzipped, pulled his dick free—
Thick. Heavy. Hangin’ low like it came with a warning label. Her eyes widened for real this time.
He smirked—just a little. “Still bold?”
Annie licked her lips. “Slide it in and see.”
He rubbed the tip against her slick folds, draggin’ it slow up and down like he was usin’ her to grease it proper.
“You feelin’ that already?” he said, voice low. “I ain’t even in yet.”
When he finally pushed inside, it was slow—inch by inch, watchin’ her fall apart around the stretch.
“God—Smoke,” she moaned, legs twitchin’.
“You takin’ it,” he growled. “All of it.”
And she did—with her back damn near lifted off the desk from how deep he got.
Once he started movin’—Lord have mercy—it was deep strokes, pelvis grindin’ against her clit with every thrust. One hand slid behind her neck, the other thumb brushin’ over her bottom lip.
He snapped his hips harder.
She cried out, nails diggin’ into his shoulders.
“You like it rough,” he said, voice barely breathin’. “I like you loud.”
And he made sure to keep her that way.
Stack’s got you flat on that velvet now, your legs up, his body between them. When he undid his pants and pushed ‘em down—
Whew. That man was built.
Long. Curved just enough. Thick enough to ruin you if he ain’t careful.
You bit your lip, eyes wide.
“Mmhm,” he smirked. “Go ‘head. Say it.
He laughed, slid the tip up through your slick, real slow
“Beg for it,” he whispered. “Tell me you want it.”
You rolled your hips, desperate now, that ache damn near unbearable.
He slid in with one smooth thrust—deep, knockin’ the breath out your lungs.
Your hands flew to his arms, nails diggin’ in.
He stilled, deep inside, pelvis pressed flush.
“Better be,” he said. “‘Cause I ain’t stoppin’ now.”
He pulled back slow—then snapped his hips. You damn near screamed.
He grinned, cocky and mean. “Yeah, that’s the sound.”
He started workin’ it—deep strokes mixed with quick snaps, body rollin’ with practiced rhythm, his mouth on your neck, whisperin’ filth.
“You feel how wet you gettin’? That’s me, baby. That’s all me.”
He slid a hand under your thigh, bendin’ you open wider.
“Take all this dick,” he growled. “Be a good girl.”
You could barely breathe, barely think. He gripped your jaw, made you look him dead in the eyes.
Your face couldn’t help but frown still - you nodded.
Smoke still rockin’ Annie, slow but deep, every stroke hittin’ her just right. He slid his hand down between her thighs, thumb circlin’ that spot.
“I’m gon’ make you come on this dick,” he whispered, sweat drippin’ from his brow.
She gripped him harder, back archin’.
“I know,” he whispered. “I feel you.”
Stack got your leg over his shoulder now, body poundin’ into you harder, faster. You cryin’ out now, holdin’ onto the couch for dear life.
“That’s it,” he panted. “Let it go.”
You shattered—legs shakin’, breath gone, voice cracked.
And he kept goin’ through it. Made you come twice before he even thought about slowin’ down
Smoke’s chest was glistening now, shirt gone, pants hangin’ low around his hips. He was still buried deep inside Annie, movin’ with slow, deep thrusts that rolled her eyes back and made her moan his name like a hymn.
But he’d been too gentle for too long.
She looked at him with fire in her eyes, teeth bitin’ her bottom lip.
“Quit holdin’ back, baby.”
Smoke grunted, grabbed her hips, and pulled out fast.
“Turn around,” he said, voice low, breathless.
Annie smiled wicked, turnin’ slow like she knew exactly what he was about to do. She bent over that desk, elbows down, back arched, ass poked up just right.
Smoke stepped in behind her, hand slidin’ up her spine, pressin’ between her shoulder blades to keep her down.
Then he slid back in— Hard. Deep.
“Shit—Smoke!” she cried out, hands slidin’ across the desk like she couldn’t get a grip.
“That’s what you wanted, huh?” he said, pace pickin’ up, hips snappin’ against her. “This how bold bitches get treated.”
Annie moaned, pushin’ back against him, the sound of skin slappin’ echoing off the office walls.
Stack was a whole different beast.
Sweat slid slow down his temple, mixin’ with the heat you done worked up in him—those drinks from earlier just stokin’ the fire. It rolled past his cheek, down to his mustache, drippin’ with a mess of you and him. He licked it slow, tongue draggin’ lazy ‘cross his top lip, eyes locked on you like he was starvin’.
He sat back on his knees, flippin’ you over, his hands slid under your arms, liftin’.
You yelped,—but he didn’t let you go. He locked his arms under your knees, grippin’ your thighs from behind and pullin’ you into a full nelson, your back against his chest, his mouth at your ear.
“Now we do it my way,” he growled.
Then he pushed back in—deep, slow, thick.
You couldn’t even hold yourself up. All your weight rested in his arms, chest pressed to his, your legs kicked wide open.
“You feel that?” he hissed. “Ain’t no runnin’ now.”
His hips started drivin’ up into you hard, each thrust makin’ your body bounce, makin’ your moans come out like broken sobs.
He leaned in, teeth brushin’ your ear.
“Let it go, girl. You takin’ this dick like a goddamn star.”
Smoke was grippin’ Annie’s hips so tight now her skin burned under his fingers. His thrusts were relentless, the sound of his hips slammin’ against her ass fillin’ the office like a drumbeat of sin.
“Keep still,” he snapped, and when she didn’t, he reached up, grabbed her hair, pullin’ her head back as he leaned over her.
“You feel all that back there?” he growled. “Every inch?”
Annie just whimpered, eyes flutterin’, mouth open with nothing but breath.
He let her go—slammed into her again.
“You gon’ remember this every time you sit down, you hear me?”
You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Stack was still holdin’ you up, fuckin’ you like it was his job—deeper than anyone ever had. Your thighs trembled in his grip, your back slick with sweat against his chest.
Then he let you go—gently droppin’ your legs as he flipped you to your knees.
You barely caught your breath before he grabbed your hair, guided you forward, and mounted you from behind.
“Arch that back,” he said, low and filthy. “Let me see how proud you are now.”
You did—and he slammed back in with a growl.
“Fuck—you was made for this,” he panted, drivin’ in harder now, one hand around your waist, the other reachin’ around to rub that sweet spot that had you cryin’ into the cushions.
“You gon’ cum again,” he muttered. “Right here on this dick. Right now.”
Smoke had Annie bent over the desk, now flat on her stomach, his body pressed tight to hers, every stroke hittin’ deep, her body shakin’ under him.
“You close, baby?” he whispered, lips against her ear.
“Yes, Smoke—don’t stop—please—”
He pushed in hard and held.
Her body locked. Screamed.
Smoke grunted and followed, buryin’ himself deep as he spilled inside her with a low, choked curse.
Stack grabbed your waist harder, feelin’ your body start to shake.
“You better not run,” he growled. “You better—fuck—you tight—”
He slapped your ass once, rough and greedy, then reached under you, fingers playin’ fast against your clit until you were gushin’ on his dick.
You screamed. Shook. Damn near collapsed.
Stack roared, chest flexin’ as he pushed in one last time and came with a deep, rumblin’ groan that shook both of you.
Heavy breathin’. Bodies tangled, hearts racin’, sweat slicked across skin like sin’s perfume.
Smoke pulled Annie up slow, lips on her shoulder.
Stack leaned down, kissin’ your back, his hand slidin’ over your hip like he never wanted to let go.
And not a single ounce of regret.
I hope this translated well y’all! This was so fun to write. Keep reposting following and liking I love yall. 💕 #staynasty
Somebody tell mama how to make a tag list 😗 and idk how to move this from my notes with proper spacing stay with me yall
