Page 7 of Surrender Your Heart
His eyes dropped to my thighs, paused at the open part of my shirt. “That you did.” He passed me the blunt without breaking eye contact.
I took it, inhaled slowly and exhaled like I was showing off. The smoke curled around us as I handed it back. He flicked his wrist, knocking the ash into the tray beside him, then looked at me again—real slow, real intense.
“You’ve changed.”
I lifted a brow. “Oh yeah?”
“You carry yourself differently,” he said, leaning into his drink. “More confident, knowing. Definitely more sure of yourself.”
I smirked. “You like that?”
His gaze held me, heavy. “I love that shit.”
I felt that in my chest, my thighs, and my throat. Legend reached over and poured me a drink, the clink of the bottle low and slow. We sipped, smoked, and said nothing for a while. We let the music talk and energy settle between us. My foot grazed his calf, and his palm slid up my thigh, fingers thick and slow. And just like that, the air changed.
He shifted closer, his body bigger than mine, swallowing my whole damn space. His leg brushed mine again. His palm was still on my thigh. Still sliding higher.
“C’mere.”
The way he said it—low, deliberate—my breath hitched. I moved slowly, letting my thighs brush against his leg as I stood and stepped in front of him. The sunset cast a warm orange over everything, but the heat between us had nothing to do with the weather.
Legend’s hands slid up my thighs, slow as hell, gripping the flesh like he was taking inventory. Then he leaned forward and kissed my stomach softly at first… then again, wetter. Hislips dragged lower. “You really came out here for a nigga?” he muttered, hands sliding up the back of my thighs to grip my ass.
“You… you really… sent for me,” I could barely speak. My chest rose and fell too fast.
“Look at me,” he said. I did, and his eyes were heavy. “You don’t even know what you do to me, Honey.” Then he yanked me into his lap, both hands gripping my ass like he needed it.
I gasped, my hips landing right on the thick bulge in his linen pants. “Oh my god…”
“Mmhmm,” he growled, voice deep in my ear. "You know what’s up.”
And just like that, my back was on the patio cushions, shirt wide open, shorts off, legs parted, the ocean behind us. Legend sank to his knees between my thighs right there. Outside. With the breeze brushing over my skin and the R&B still playing low. His eyes stayed locked on mine as he kissed my inner thighs, each kiss wetter than the last.
“You've been on my mind every night since the moment you left.” Then he licked up my slit—slow, wide, filthy.
I nearly levitated. “Oh, shit…” I moaned, trying to grab the edge of the cushion. He held my hips down with both hands and did it again. Then again.
“Pussy taste even better than I remembered,” he muttered against me, before spitting and sucking my clit like he had a damn vendetta. “Fuck.”
I swear to God, I forgot what day it was.
He tongue-fucked me like he was trying to rearrange my soul. Groaning into my pussy like it owed him money. Beardsoaked. Fingers pressing into my thighs to keep me still as he sucked the life out of me.
“I can’t… I’m gonna…”
“I’ll give you a pass this time,” he groaned in between devouring me. “But you don’t cum unless I tell you to.”
I couldn’t help it. I fucking broke. Loud. Shameless. Legs twitching. One hand over my mouth while the other held the back of his head. And even after I came, he didn’t stop. Legend buried his face deeper. Sloppier. Slurping sounds loud as hell on that open patio, licking every drop of me like it was his final meal.
“L-Legend… I can’t take it, I swear…”
“Yeah, you can,” he said, his voice full of hunger.
I don’t know how long he stayed there after I came a second and third time, locked between my thighs with my legs thrown over his shoulders.
By the time he finally looked up, his salt and pepper beard was drenched, lips glistening, and me… well, I was lying in a fucking puddle. Completely fucking breathless. My damn soul was hovering above me like it needed a breather, too.
And this man just sat down, licking his lips, and then used a cloth to wipe his beard. The smirk on his face was evident as he sparked the blunt and took a big pull. “I tried to wait until after dinner,” he murmured, low and smug. “But as you can tell, you’ve been missed, sweetheart.”
