Page 15 of Surrender Your Heart
I let out a quiet laugh, sipped my drink, and looked that lil’ nigga dead in the eye. “Build what? A liability?” I tilted my head. “That’s what you on?”
He tried to smirk. “She’s different now.”
I leaned forward. Calm. Cold. Clear. “Nah. You just green enough to think recycled ambition is something new. Watch yourself. She ain’t with you for who you are. She’s with you, hoping you can be half of what I am.”
Trezheld up both hands, jaw clenched. “Say less.”
I watched the table fall back into rhythm and pool, but that message stuck. I finished my drink, signed off on some paperwork, checked the time, and slid my shades back on.“Handle the rest,” I told Ronin. He nodded, and I went back to retrieve what was mine.
By the time I climbed back up the stairs and re-entered the glow of the deck, the energy had shifted. Most of the women were two drinks past tipsy, laughing louder than before. The DJ had turned the playlist over to cruise mode—SZA, Brent, Summer, Drake, that kinda vibe. But all I saw was her.
Honey was near the edge of the deck with Yolanda and two other women dancing and laughing like they knew each other from way back. Her smile was dangerous. Fuck. I needed to feel her. So I slid up behind her. My hand found the small of her back as I leaned in, lips brushing her ear.
“You up here making friends,” I murmured low, voice thick.
She smiled, eyes still on Yolanda. “I am.”
I didn’t say shit. Just let my palm drop a little lower as I whispered, “I need to be inside you right now, baby.”
Her breath caught. I felt it. That tiny hitch in her throat. She turned her head a little, finally looking at me. Her voice dropped. “Legend… there’s people everywhere.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” I murmured against her temple. “I wanna see that face you make when you try to hold it in.” She swallowed hard, and I smirked. “Excuse us for a moment,” I said smoothly to Yolanda, who blinked and smiled, already moving out of the way.
Honey didn’t even fight it. Her body moved with mine. The DJ slid into The Dream's “Falsetto”, and the timing couldn’t have been more perfect.
HONEY
T h es e c o n dt h ecabin door shut behind us, Legend’s voice dropped like thunder. “Hands on the wall.” My breath caught, pussy still pulsing from the way he whispered filth into my ear upstairs like it was nothing. I turned to face him, lips parted.
His palm slid up the small of my back, fingers curling tight around the base of my neck. “I said,” he repeated, slower, darker, “put your hands on the wall, Honey.”
That voice? That low, rich, BDE-coated command? Had my knees damn near knocking. I stepped forward without another word, pressing my palms flat to the cool wood paneling, heart pounding. The air inside the cabin was thick, heavy with sex and anticipation.
He came up behind me slowly, like a man who knew he owned whatever was in front of him. His hands slid up my thighs, fingers sliding my bikini bottom down. I whimpered as he pressed a kiss to my spine and dropped to his knees behind me, spreading me open. No teasing. No warning. He devoured me like he ain’t eaten in months. Like the last night wasn’t enough. Like his sanity depended on making me fall apart against that damn wall.
“Fuck, Legend…” I gasped, forehead pressed to the wood, sandals lifting as my toes curled.
“Mmhmm.” He groaned low, tongue dragging slowly and nastily through my folds, and then, his tongue circled my ass while his mouth got filthier. The sounds coming from him were wet, loud, and vulgar, and he wanted me to hear them. “You wanna cum, don’t you?” he asked, voice muffled against me, then licked up with slow, torturous pressure.
“Ohhh, god! Yesss!” I damn near cried.
“Let it go, baby.”
He gripped my hips tighter, pulled me back into his face like he needed it, and God, I broke. My whole body trembled. Back arching. Mouth falling open. Juices spilling down his face and onto his beard. By the time he stood back up, I knew he was ready to take me to ecstasy by the hunger in his voice.
“On the bed.” I was weak, trembling, but I obeyed and walked over to the bed. I climbed on all fours, ready to throw it back, but he shook his head slowly, eyes locked on me like a damn lion stalking dinner. “Nah. Sit on it.” His voice was calm, but it held that warning.
I blinked, dazed. “What?”
“Ride this dick,” he said, stepping closer, tugging down his swim trunks. “Backwards. Slowly and don’t stop ‘til I say so.”
My breath caught. I looked back at him, swim trunks dropping just enough to free the dick I was already craving for. He gripped the base, thick and heavy, stroking it once like he knew what it was about to do to me. Heat flooded between my thighs as I turned, climbing over him slowly.
He lay back against the pillows, one arm behind his head, the other hand on his dick, waiting for me like a king on his throne. I hovered over it, reaching back to guide him in, and his lips parted as I sank down. “Fuuuck,” I whispered.
The stretch was too good, too deep, and too perfect. He grabbed my hips, holding me there. I started to move, slow and steady, my hands planted on his thighs, back arched, ass bouncing with rhythm. The sounds between us were beautiful. Wet. Sloppy. Loud. Each time I dropped, it got messier. Each time I rose, his grip got tighter.
“Look at you,” he rasped, biting his lip. “Ride this muthafucka like you know it's yours, my baby.” I whimpered, throwing my head back. “Keep going,” he warned. “I didn’t say stop.” He smacked my ass so hard it echoed through the room.
