Page 154 of Kentrell

When she finally got my shirt off, she let her fingers trail over the space just above my abs—right where the ink stopped.

“You can put my name right here,” she said, voice like syrup and sin.

I glanced down at where she touched, licking my lips as the thought took hold. Her name, right there. Permanent.

I nodded once. Firm.

“Whatever you want, ma. Just hurry up.”

She giggled but didn’t respond. Just kept working until I was naked. Fully exposed. Tense as hell.

And relieved that part was finally over.

I reached out for her again, ready to lift her back into my arms—but she stopped me.

Dropped right back to her knees.

Slid between my thighs, spreading them slightly with her hands before shimmying through.

That silk robe had slipped completely off her shoulders now, and I couldn’t do shit but stare.

Her eyes locked on my dick—thick, long, standing at full attention.

She wrapped both hands around it—two fistfuls barely making it halfway down my length.

“I know whatchu doin’,” I muttered, breath already shaky.

“Then let me do it,” she snapped gently, like she was in charge now.

Then she licked the tip—slow, warm, deliberate.

My whole body clenched.

Precum oozed out just as her tongue swirled around the head, and I hissed, stomach tightening up.

“Zoe—”

“Kentrell,” she interrupted, voice sweet but firm. “I’m learning how to please my man.”

She licked the tip again and looked up at me.

“Class is in session,” she whispered. “Now be quiet.”

And baby girl came tostudy.

She didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t ask if she was doing it right.

Just…went for it.

Her lips wrapped around me slowly, her tongue moving in soft, uncertain swirls that somehow made it worse—better—than anything I’d expected. She used both hands at the base, twisting gently, and every few seconds she’d look up, like she was checking for approval.

I gave it to her with every breath I couldn’t catch.

“Shit…”

My head fell back for a second as she took more of me in, lips stretched, cheeks hollowing as she worked to keep rhythm. My hand found the back of her head—not guiding, justthere.

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