Ruthless (20 page)

Yes.

Oh, God, no, this is so wrong. But my pussy is so wet… so very fucking wet.

Still, I make one last weak attempt to break free from the vision in front of me; all six feet, seven inches of his thick, muscular frame. But his dick beckons me. It calls out to me. “Come suck me, boo.” As I watch Mel's large hand pump up and down the shaft of his dick, the plum-sized head emerging with each stroke.
The sight of it taunts me. “Sneaky bitch…come get this hot load outta this dick…filthy whore…cum slut… You know you want this long, thick dick fuckin' ya mouth, pluggin' ya neck 'til I clog ya throat wit' this nut.”

God, yes…

Before I realize it, I am fucking into the surging heat, three-fingers, knuckles deep. The lips of my weeping pussy opening and closing around the stretch and pull of each thrust, matching the rhythm of Mel's thrusting hand. Knees bending, pelvis rocking, my breathing becomes frantic as the wet-clickety sounds my fingers are making become demanding as they slick in and out; a foam of cream seeping out and rimming the edges of my horny, cum-soaked cunt with each thrust.

Mel's motions are deliberate, his jacking off, his fluid stroking. Or at least that is how it seems, intent on bringing him to orgasm. I fuck myself furiously, watching, lusting…waiting. Oh, how I wait. For the flow of his cum to spill out of his dick, to shoot up in the air—hot ropes of white lust, spurting onto his chest, under his chin, over his head, or wherever else it may land.

My free hand slinks up to the swell of my breasts. I caress my nipples, then slide my hand back down over my trembling belly, down to my throbbing clit, where it stays—my fingers firmly moving in slow, circular motion over it.

The faster his hand moves up and down the never-ending length of his dick, the wetter I am, the closer I am to coming.

Clickclickclickclick…

The wet sound of my fingers rapidly stroking between the folds of my pussy becomes louder, urgent, desperate; a wave of liquid heat expanding in my belly, fanning itself along the walls of my cunt, ripping its way through. Blood and heat pound in my clit, in
my pussy, in my chest.

Oh, God, yes…

I choke back a moan.

I think I see Mel's right leg trembling along with my own wobbly leg. He grunts low, startling me. His hand strokes become quicker, shorter. My breath hitches as my hand, my probing fingers, match his dick stroking. My pussy pulses and pulls with every stroke. Heat and steam of a budding orgasm hissing out of my slit slow and steady, then…

“Aaaah, fuck…”

Mel's strokes become lightning fast.

“Aaaaaah, shiiiit. Fuck, baby…”

The wet
clickclickclickclick
of my tightening cunt match the slip-slap of cock and fist, the light thud of balls. The sounds become more audible.

“Fuckfuck…aaah, shit…”

I moan and groan along with Mel in my head. My lust-filled gaze locked onto his pumping fist. Flames erupt in the center of my pussy, then burst out in fiery heat. I rock back on the heels of my feet, thrusting my pelvis.

I am coming.

“Here it comes…uhh, uhh…”

Mel is coming.

He grunts, then growls low and throaty.

The air around me seems to get thinner. My eyes blur as dizzying waves of intense heat gush out of me, flooding my fingers, soaking my hand, as Mel growls, his hips thrusting up off the bed, the mattress beneath him springing up and down.

“Here it comes, Pasha, uhh… Come get this nut, baby…”

Thick ropes of white cum shoot out of his dick, up into the air. I blink several times, trying to be certain I heard him correctly,
him whispering my name, him calling out to me. I know I heard him say my name. Heard him tell me to come get his nut. Or had I imagined it all?

I blink again.

Then all I see are Mel's smoldering eyes as he lifts up on one forearm, his chest heaving, his fist still clenched around his spurting cock, his nut now spilling out over his hand, like warm buttermilk, thick and rich.

I do not wait for an answer. I untie my robe, stepping into the room and letting it fall off my shoulders to the floor. I quietly shut the door. Then saunter over toward the bed, climbing up on it, inching between his legs. I lick the sweat and cum drizzle from around his balls. My eager tongue journeys along the curve of his fist, lapping up his nut. Not once does he take his eyes off of me. I remove his hand from around his cum-sticky dick, sucking each of his fingers into my mouth, cleaning them, then laving his stomach with my greedy tongue, tasting him, savoring him.

I lick his thick cock clean, my tongue eagerly sweeping over his balls, then along the shaft, traveling upward to his sticky, swollen head, its slit still leaking his man juices. I squeeze the head, opening the eye, then dipping my tongue in deeply. I think of sweet custard with a pinch of salt as I lap him with my tongue, then envelop the head of his dick into my mouth. His dick stretches and thickens, stretching my mouth. Mel rolls his hips, slowly, pushing his throbbing cock deeper into my mouth.

No words are spoken. None are needed. Gulping is the only sound being made as I take him all the way into my mouth as he pushes the cockhead to the back of my throat, clogging my airway passage. His dick is humongous. And I am determined to master every thick, delicious, throbbing inch of it. Unlatching my jaws, my head bobs.

I will gag to death, die with this nigga's dick lodged down in my
throat before I claim defeat. I start humming, caressing my pussy as I suck and hum, suck and hum, my sucking mouth getting wetter. I purr, maneuvering, mastering, my mouth, my neck, my tongue up and down the length and width of him; my throat relaxing and stretching like never before, the ache and burn causing my pussy to cream.

Finally there's another sound in the room besides the ones coming from out of my throat. Mel starts moaning. His hands are in my hair, squeezing and palming my head, fingers digging into my scalp.

In seconds, Mel's bulky body is shuddering, his brain melting inside his head, as hot dick milk splashes the back of my throat, flooding my mouth. I continue sucking, my lips only easing back from his dick when I have sucked his forehead in, until the only thing I see when I look up at him are the whites of his eyeballs as they roll to the back of his head.

I gulp and swallow everything he feeds me.

Not wasting a drop.

Feeling powerful. Feeling in control. Once again, conquering.

It is the dawning of a new day when I finally slip out of Mel's room, leaving him snoring, his head slumped to the side, and drool sliding out of his mouth as I saunter back down the hall, gliding my tongue over my cum-glazed teeth, savoring the moment. Basking in the knowing that Mel, like all the others, has been captivated, captured, and now…is under the spell of this juicy deep-throat.

Toying with your prey before going in for the kill is a much more delicious thrill…

“Watch ya back, pussy-ass nigga,” I say deep and low.

“Yo, word is bond, muhfucka!” Vernon barks into the phone. “I'ma split yo' muthafuckin' shit! Who da fuck is this?”

I use some of the lines he's said to me, my subtle clues to him, when he was calling and harassing me down at the salon. “You'll find out soon enough, pussy. I can't wait to fuck you in dat tight lil' man ass of yours. I'ma gut ya hole real wide, nigga, then—”

“Muhfucka, say
whaaaat?!
I'll put a bullet in ya shit before you or any other muhfucka ever try some homo shit on me. Now how da fuck you get my number ‘n' why is you fuckin' wit' me, nigga?”

I laugh. “Whatever, Cock Eater! It ain't ya shitty ass I wanna fuck, anyway. I wanna fuck dis long dick down in ya throat, trick-ass bitch.”

The nigga goes ballistic, yelling and screaming and threatening to body a
nigga
. I imagine him pacing the floor like a rabid animal, teeth gnashing, eyes wide, foaming at the mouth.

The line goes dead.

I change cell phones, plugging in my voice changer, then calling back. “Watch ya back, nigga. I'm comin' for you.”

“Yo, real shit, muhfucka. Who da fuck is dis?”

“Ya worst fuckin' nightmare!” I end the call. “Bastard,” I mutter, tossing the phone into my bag.

Mel glances over at me, chuckling. We landed about an hour ago. And now we're cruising in his SUV—with its thick ballistic-proof glass and panel systems, radar scrambler, run-flat tires, and anti-explosive system—up the parkway heading toward the salon.

I swear. I hated boarding that red-eye late last night, leaving Jaylen behind. I fought back my tears most of the drive to LAX. I had to keep reminding myself that it's only temporary. That, for now, it's what's best for him. Yet, no matter how many times I have to say it in my head, it still never feels right.

“Damn, that nigga gotta be one dumb muhfucka if he can't even figure out by now that you're hittin' him upside the head wit' his own shit.”

Early this morning, I had gotten word from Lamar that all the front windows of the two-family house where this nigga's shacking up at—with some flat-ass, dog-faced chick—were bust out in the middle of the night. And, sometime tonight, his Lexus will make its way to a local chop shop, courtesy of Lamar. Then every night thereafter, up until the grand finale, he'll be fucked with, even jumped and a row of his fronts kicked in.

I shake my head. “Stupid niggas like him think with their dicks, which is exactly why he thought it was okay to harass—no, practically
stalk
—me, all because I didn't want to suck his damn dick again. Mmmph. He brought this shit on himself.”

Mel's eyes dart over to me, then back on the road ahead. I keep my gaze straight ahead, pretending to not notice. “Muhfuckas real crazy out there these days.”

“Yup. And so are some of the bitches they
think
they can fuck with and get away with it.”

I feel his eyes on me, heating my flesh. When I look over, I catch him staring at my lips. He smiles at me, then quickly looks away, his eyes back on the road.

God, I hope I haven't gotten myself way in over my head.

My cell rings. I fish it out of my bag, glancing at the screen. It's Cassandra. I purse my lips, contemplate answering or letting it roll into voicemail. I haven't seen or spoken to her since Friday night. And I've ignored her calls and text messages.

The bitch is too impulsive. And, as far as I'm concerned, she's reckless. And definitely not someone I'm going to have help bring down any more of the niggas on my list. She's already done enough. From exposing Felecia and killing JT to practically beating her own son to death, Booty's contribution to my cause has been duly noted.

Nothing more is needed. Cassandra Simms can stand on the sidelines from here on out. I let the call go into voicemail. Two minutes later, my phone
pings
, alerting me that she's left a message. Four seconds later, there's another
ping
. It's a text from her. M
ISS
S
TANKADANK
U
NEED 2 GET UR GDAMN MIND RIGHT
!!!! I
M AT DA SHOP N
U
AIN'T NOWHERE 2 B FOUND, GDMMIT
! W
E GOT SHIT
2 DO…PLAYN GAMES. U STAY TRYNA DO ME GDMMIT
!!
CALL ME

I take a deep breath, deleting the message.

“Yo, e'erything good?” Mel asks, taking his eyes off the road for a quick second.

I nod. “Yeah.” I shift my body in my seat, reaching over and turning on the radio.

K. Michelle's “Fallin' ” floats through the speakers. I lay my head back on the headrest and close my eyes, getting lost in the lyrics. I hadn't heard this song in years.
Ooooh, this bitch is singing my shit!

Behind my shut lids, Jasper's face flickers in and out. Everything he is, everything I thought he was, everything I wanted him to be, all tightly coiled in a ball of blazing fire. His crooked grin. His sculpted nakedness, the tattoo of my name etched over his heart.
His arms pulling me into him, protecting me, holding me close; his heartbeat and breaths becoming my own. His thick tongue caressing my clit and lower lips. His thick, veiny dick fucking into wetness and heat, stretching into the depths of my soul, delving into everything I was, everything I wanted to be to him… for him.

Until…

Promises were broken. Games were played. Lies were told. Lines were crossed.

Until…

Fists replaced hugs. Loving words turned threatening. Lustful gazes metamorphosed into contempt. Compliments became criticisms.

Until…

I slid another nigga's dick into my mouth.

Bullets replaced kisses.

Nothing else no longer mattered.

Revenge became the only thing I wanted.

My eyes snap open when Mario's “Somebody Else” starts playing. I glance over at Mel bobbing his head to the beat. My gaze flutters to his thick hand gripping the steering wheel. I turn my head toward the window and peer out through the tinted glass. Memories of Jasper quickly fade. My mind flits along the borders of debauchery, finding its way back to late Saturday night, early Sunday morning, my fingers hungrily strumming in my wet pussy while watching Mel masturbate. His horse dick…thick, long, and beautiful!

I cut my eye back over at him on the sly, my gaze dipping to his lap, remembering how his gigantic dick throbbed in my hand, how it pulsed in my mouth, how it stretched my esophagus and shut off my airway, making me lightheaded. I pull in my bottom
lip. Shift in my seat. My pussy starts to tingle as I hark back to the way I sucked Mel, fucked him into my mouth, filling my gullet with his thick creamy nut…
Mygod!

Not once, not twice, but three times The night at the condo, then last night en route to the airport, eleven of his twelve-and-a-half-inch anaconda sucked, slurped and throated. Then, again, this morning in the short-term parking lot, section A-1. And each time I spun Mel's top, I made him moan. Made him grunt, and call out my name as his nut rolled up in his balls and shot out of his dick slit. But I will not be satisfied until I'm able to suck every last inch of him down to the base, until my nose is pressed deep into his pubic hairs.