In Love with Ezra (Love Unaccounted Book 2) (3 page)

My expression remained neutral. I wouldn’t succumb to her sexual prowess no matter how enticing it was.
My chocolate enchantress is breathtaking.
I swallowed. Across from me, she abandoned her seat and rounded the table. My sights remained glued to her, each advancement she made toward me. When she reached me, Alexis lifted one of her long cacao legs that were bare, carried it over my lap and straddled me. I curbed my groan as her private aroma that I’ve come to covet beyond anything in this world saturated my sense of smell. It was accompanied by the fruity scent of her body spray and the honey fragrance of her bouffant hair that was gathered in a ponytail behind her head. As wild as it was, I loved my wife’s hair. The organic state of it reminded me of her raw nature: stormy and unpretentious. My kitten.

Jesus!
She was ensnaring me in her feminine web.

Before I could think of how to slow this train, her tongue was in my mouth, pushing with determination. The aftertaste of dry wine aroused me because it was the booster to the intoxication she already hurled me into. Intuitively, my tongue swiped for hers and volts of electricity shot from my groin to my chest. This is what she did to me, and especially after days of not tasting her. She was delicious, a miscellany of chocolate, honey and undomestication. The perfect ingredients for a submissive: a woman groomed for my sexual endeavors. My ideal wife.

Alexis began grinding on my lap, her kitten qualities springing to life. Her breasts pushing into me as her arms encased my head. I knew what her body was craving, understood what she needed. The ‘bigger problem’ she eluded to was manifesting on top of me. My kitten was horny. She needed a release. And I would give it to her; just not how she had in mind.

I pulled my lips from her mouth and drug my lips down her neck and lowered until I captured one of her breasts. A tug at the collar yanked down her shirt and she pulled her arms out of it. Then I pulled her ponytail loose, freeing her mane. I wanted her compromised to me, giving me her all while demonstrating her need for me. I knew the ends of her hair would dance teasingly on her now sensitized skin, further arousing her. Again, I made it my business to know everything about her sexuality.

I licked softly and then sucked hard, causing her frame to jerk on top of me. In this short time of being her lover, I observed Alexis’ inclination to pain. She took it during sex almost eagerly, understanding the overall goal of pleasure. This was why I was so baffled by her reaction to the spanking. As I turned it over in mind every day, several times a day since it happened, I realized she’d left me during that scene. She may have been there enduring the lashes, but Alexis’ mind had escaped someplace else. We needed to explore this and until we did, I would not give her what she craved. But I would provide a release. I had to. My wife had an inclination to masturbate, and while I’d forbade her to do so without my knowledge and consent, I also knew she’d reached a new plateau in her sexuality, and her libido was in overdrive. She could defy me even with the best intentions not to.

Alexis’ pussy thrust so hard into me, I could feel my pants dampening. Talk about a cat being in heat. My kitten was on fire. She moaned when she could feel my erection. I didn’t want that stimulation, or I’d succumb and abandon her training. She was still new yet. I shifted my hand, positioning it under her sex. And
oh, my god
…
She’s bare!
She’d waxed again for me. That clever move almost had my resolution wavering. Her pussy was of soft pliant skin all over. And the heat emitting from it—

Christ!
I missed her.

God, I miss it!

I flitted my index finger a few times and then used it along with my middle and rubbed against her engorged clit. Alexis pumped into my hand, desperately grinding toward her release. When she got too excited, I pushed my hand further, slid into her canal.
Jesus
… I circled my fingers, all around. Eventually I swiped directly against her anterior g-spot that I’d discovered. Within seconds, her gyrations amped up. That familiar telltale sign her orgasm was cresting. My mouth stayed busy on her nipple, my heart raced at the sounds of her cries. Badly, I wanted to toss her onto the table inches in front of me and bury my face in her sex, eat it like the savage man I am. But I had to pace myself. This was for Alexis, not me.

When I included my thumb to rub erratically on her swollen clit, Alexis’ core contracted against my fingers as she rode my hand, pushing her wet valley into me. In seconds, her ragged breathing turned into screams and her back shuddered so hysterically, I couldn’t keep her nipple in my mouth. As she moved into the slowing of her release, I halted my drives into her, but continued circling her nub. When her whimpers returned and body tensed even more, I slowed on that too, until I knew she could take no more. Wrung out, Alexis placed her head on my shoulder. I remained still, trying to curb my own acute need.

That was incredibly sexy.

She needed a brief delay. I was sure after going days without my touch, I had just exhausted her, and what she wanted now was for me to ravish her. As she rested, I calmed myself and leveled my body’s expectations. I knew that moment was over when Alexis’ arms sloped and went for the waist of my pants. I grabbed her at the wrists, pushing her back on my lap, preventing her from releasing me.

Her head snapped up and lips were parted. Those lazy, post-release eyes questioned me. I took a moment to level our eyes, and express my adamancy. Then I took to her ear.

“You checked out on me that day down in the sandbox, and while I’ve granted you a release, until we revisit that scene—down there—you will not get the real deal,” I susurrated.

Alexis’ mouth dropped in surprise. Her eyes widened, almost erasing the slant from her drinking and orgasm. It had hurt me, physically, more than it was a blow to her fragile ego, but it had to be addressed. She was so new to this, but had to be trained. Once some women begin having vaginal orgasms, their taste for orgasms in general cultivate, segregating the two similar, yet vastly different sensations. My kitten wanted what I could provide her with my cock, and I would not grant her that.   

Feeling the sting of the rejection, she lifted from my sodden lap. I watched the tantalizing jiggle of her rear cheeks as she exited the dining room, dejected. I took a moment to pull myself together before clearing the table and cleaning the kitchen. I reminded myself of Alexis’ need of being trained and why that was the right thing to do. The fact that she hadn’t even asked permission to come was justification alone. She needed progression in this thing.

My last thought before turning down the lights was, ‘
At least I can tell my mother with pure honesty that Alexis made good on her lamb chops
.’

~Lex~

This place is fancy as shit!

That was all I registered. All I could process in my limited brain against the opulence of the grand ball room in Greenwich Village. I entered the room of a black tie affair on the arm of a stately pastor, delectably caped in a black tuxedo and plain cap-toe balmoral
Salvatore Ferragamo
oxfords. I was game to his attire from my time at
Saks
. I couldn’t get over his stunning countenance since we stepped out of the truck. As we stood at the opening of the room, taking in its splendor, I lusted over his pointed lapel, single breasted jacket, stark white wing-collar pleated piqued shirt, appropriately sized and placed cummerbund, and classic thistle bowtie. Goddamn, he was fucking edible! Every one of my cells teemed with desire to be beneath him. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Carmichael,” an usher in a wing tuxedo called from the left of us. “Ms. Montegut asked that you be shown to her before being escorted to your seats. If you would bear with me?” He lifted his silky jet black brows over his Caribbean blue iris.

Ezra nodded his compliance and we waited. The music flowed festively and the patrons of the party walked with straight spines and squared shoulders as they spoke softly in all formal wear. I was a long way from the block, but grateful for Ezra selecting my attire for the night. I felt fancy in a strapless magenta, sweetheart-neck trumpet gown that swept the floor. Initially I thought my dark skin would appear hideous in the color, but at first glance in the mirror after I’d finished dressing earlier, my splendor paralleled that of Michelle Obama’s in her formal wear. It boosted my mood beyond what I deserved. I parted my hair in the center and created an over-bun from one temple to the other, opting to expose my shoulders tonight. I’d just wished Ezra would give me a sign of his approval or not.

That thought saddened me. It reminded me of the distant place we were in. I shook it off quickly, not wanting to ruin the occasion I had to spend with him at this fancy as shit affair and unravel the mystery that was him.

“Oh! Thank god!” A small Asian woman approached us clutching her forehead. “Pastor Carmichael, you’re here. Adele has been on edge all night, worrying about your arrival. You’re late!” she cried with wide eyes.

Unlike the rest of the patrons, this woman was dressed business-casual with a long black skirt with a matching suit jacket, opaque stockings and flat Mary-Janes. She carried a clipboard with a pen in her ear, next to her thick framed, black glasses.      

Her tone and accusation made me feel uncomfortable only because of the man she’d thrown them to. Ezra pulled his phone from the pocket of his jacket.

“Seiko, I hardly believe twenty minutes after the butler’s call is late,” he spoke in a rebuking yet familiar tone as one brow lifted.

Seiko took a deep breath that fluttered her lashes behind her lenses. She was a tiny thing, coming to our chests, at the most.

“Okay, but she’s been anxious about your arrival. You know she believes you’re her magic token!” Her English was just as clear as mine. I could tell she was American. “Listen, Pastor, we’ll start the agenda with—”

“Pastor?” I heard just beyond us in a thick accent I couldn’t identify. “You know he hates that bullshit title, Seiki!”

I glanced to my right to find a fellow-giraffe making her way to us. Her skin just as baked as mine with a sheen of silk glowing from every pore. She wore a black shawl made of tulle around her shoulders and a long black gown underneath, reaching the floor. And her jewelry… Oh, my god! She dripped of sparkling diamonds from her earlobes to her long fingers. Her eyes were a natural hazel with specs of green. Her hair parted down the middle and long silk mane hung straight from her roots. The makeup she wore was a combination of natural browns, careful not to overstate her organic beauty. And that she was, stunning. Her style was a bit foreign to me, but it definitely reeked of money. Who was this woman?

“You think you could be any later?” she asked my husband in an intimate confrontational manner. His anticipated and feared response by me was another hiked brow, this one accompanied by a wrinkled forehead. At that the woman swallowed, her ego went down with the saliva before her eyes diverted. “And you live with this level of arrogance?” she asked me.

“Beloved,” Ezra called out while his eyes seared the woman in front of us. “This is a dear friend of mine, Adele Montegut, the hostess of the evening.” My eyes went from Ezra’s displeased and intimidating scowl to his target. But I couldn’t speak to her; her eyes were caught in the wrath of Ezra. “She couldn’t make our nuptials, but has the audacity to gripe about my being fashionably late. And her assistant—”

“Oh, shit!” Seiko whispered, visibly shuttering and covered her eyes. 

Ezra continued, “…apparently lacks grace as well.”

Adele rolled her eyes at Seiko, apparently for her folding in front of my disgruntled husband and whispered something in a foreign language.

“That’s not very graceful either,” Ezra rebuked Adele, understanding her language. “I now know where she gets it from.”

Adele’s eyes rolled again, but this time, shamefully. There was a break of silence between the four of us before Adele uncoiled and returned her face to Ezra with a coy smile.

“You asshole!” she whispered with a thick tongue. “You know what this night means to me. You know how much I’m depending on you to set it right.” Her eyes rolled again before her lips twitched into a giddy smile and she wrapped her arms around Ezra with a squeal leaping from her lungs.

She spoke again in another language while withdrawing from him and standing back with a full on smile.

“Yeah…yeah. I miss you, too, minus the vulgarities.” That brought about the first wave of jealousy. Who is this woman that she can use profanity to my husband with an intimate tone and proximity? My guard sprouted immediately. “Please greet my wife,” Ezra demanded in his bossy manner and turned his head from her in disinterest for good measure.

My mouth dropped.
He’s fucked her!
He had to. They had an undeniable and very workable chemistry.

“Lexi!” Adele sang with open arms before engulfing me in them. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t make the wonderful event,” she offered with emotion. “I had my opening show in Paris,” she pronounced ‘
Paree’
, I noticed. “Please forgive me, unlike this
grosse brute
, please.”

“My beloved would prefer English to your French, Delle,” he admonished with a nickname.

Adele tutted, similar to Ms. Remah, only hers was peppered with coquettish glances. Were they flirting in front of me?

“Seiki!” Adele demanded with full diva flare. Poor Seiko jumped in her flats. “Please see Ezze and his lovely wife to their seats,” she spoke while eyeing Ezra pointedly. “Oh!” she broke her sights of him and turned to Seiko. “And make sure their assigned server is waiting on them!” her thick French accent demanded.

“Sure enough, Adele.” Seiko nodded with her eyes to the floor like a trained slave. “This way, Ezra.”

Ezra paid Adele a hard glare before leading me away. It was met with a seductive air bite and rolling of the eye by her. I could’ve shot steam from my ears, but I was already on the outs with him and didn’t think it would be wise to pick a fight…at the moment.

We were shown to our seats, immediately poured drinks as we took to them. I paid a moment to take in the room and patrons, hoping it would cool me before I opened my mouth.

At some point, I could no longer delay it.

“You two sleep together?” I asked casually yet curtly before taking a sip of my water.

From my peripheral I could see him steel. Then my eyes met his glaring ones.

“No. Why would you ask that?” he asked in earnest, almost wounded.

I continued with a low and sociable tone. I didn’t want to give off my insecurity to anyone outside of my husband. “She’s beyond beautiful, well cultured, apparently her mind is just as brilliant as yours, and she clearly cares about you…knows an intimate side of you that I am not privy to. So why haven’t you two taken it there?”

Ezra’s eyes dropped and brows narrowed. “Adele and I aren’t compatible. Never had been.”

That made no sense.

“Why?”

His head tilted and, this time, his eyes narrowed curiously. Then a disarming grin appeared in his eyes and cheek. “You’re asking lots of questions for someone who plays taciturn about your past.”

I almost choked. “What are you talking about?”

His eyes scanned the room around us as he sat up in his seat, similar to the way he did the night I asked him what he’d get out of making me his wife when he proposed to me. “You don’t disclose pertinent things from your past, which cause you to respond to me the way you do.”

I snapped my neck slightly, again careful not to draw attention to us, and leaned into him. “I don’t recall you sharing your middle school diary with me either while we were dating, Ezra. I don’t know every detail that shapes your strange behaviors.”

“As in?” He raised a thick bushy brow.

“Well, for starters why you’re so quiet at home. Why do you keep to yourself as though you don’t want to be bothered?”

“I’m a loner, beloved. I’ve always been.”

“Then you shouldn’t have gotten married unless you included living in separate households as a clause in our customized arrangement.”

“What’s wrong with me preferring quiet time? It’s not like I ignore you, Alexis.”

“Because what you consider private time is in my opinion rude!” My eyes squeezed shut when I realized my voice was slightly elevated at that moment. I was just fucking frustrated with him. Annoyed with his mystery, and honestly irritated from being unusually horny. “I know I
fuc
—messed up down in the basement, okay!” I whispered forcefully. “But could you work any harder to make me feel unwelcome?”

“It’s called our
sandbox
. And no, you did not play nice in it. But no matter how well we play, the home is yours, Alexis. It has never been my desire to make you feel anything less than welcome there.” He paused for a moment and I tried to absorb his words of generosity, but that was hard considering how distant he’d been.

I shook my head vehemently. “You were to yourself before the basement incident. You’re just a horrible housemate, Ezra.”

Outside of fucking, at least.

“What can I do to change your perception? Please tell me.” He turned to me and straightened.

Pissed at not being able to directly say it, I shook my head and rolled my eyes to the other side of me. “You don’t even touch my wrists anymore,” I murmured, not so much for him to hear me.

“Much less what?” He challenged me with a more defined tone.

My head snapped back over to him. “Fuck me,” I grated through gritted teeth. “Much less fuck me.”

He’d asked for it. And damn it, in many ways he’d started it. Ezra literally taught me how to fuck and how to enjoy it. Then he pulled back when I didn’t like him spanking me.

“Ah...” He nodded, eyes cast ahead. “That.” He snorted.
Hell, yeah! That!
“I’ve been waiting for you to address it.”

“
For me?
You’re the one holding out, so it seems to me that you should be the one addressing it.”

“Beloved, you’re the one holding back on where you went in your head that day. You were with me until somewhere midway. You didn’t safeword, severing our communication and I had no idea you had departed.” It was his turn to hiss, trying to keep a calm veneer in public.

I swallowed in a heap of air and yanked my eyes elsewhere as I tried to break down his accusation. I
had
gone into a room in my head when I realized I was being beaten by a man who was my husband, and that I’d asked him to do it. More than I was for agreeing to it, I was too ashamed to ask him to stop. I couldn’t cope, so I chose a room instead. The wrong damn room.

Ezra was called away to the podium to open the event with prayer. He stood virile and stately in his tux. I noticed he kept his words to a minimum, a neutral cadence to his flow, and his message generalized and direct. He was ‘corporate pastor’ up there, and I believed appropriately so. He returned quietly to his seat next to me, and I continued to observe the other party-goers. The band began a ballad, something that held a consistent and rhythmic beat resembling R&B, but was certainly not.