Page 30 of Forbidden Property
She doesn’t wake up. My heart races. I’ll wake her up soon, taking advantage of her deep sleep to confess what I can’t possibly say to this sleeping woman’s face.
“What if I want to keep you and change… everything…”
Geralynn flips over on her stomach and I have to do everything in my power to stop myself from acting prematurely on her ass cheeks while they stick out and beckon to me. It truly disturbs me how large her ass cheeks are. It’s incredible to think that such a big ass could sit on her frame. She has some belly fat and chubbiness to her, but still, Geralynn has a genuinely impressive ass. My hand wanders over and I squeeze some of the flesh, still careful not to wake her.
My cock jerks forward. I knock my copy ofThe Love Hypothesisoff the nightstand, creating as loud of a noise as possible to wake Geralynn. She makes a sleepy, frustrated whining sound and then she opens one sleepy eye.
“Are you up?”
“What do you want?” she groans, yawning and shutting her eyes again, clearly mistaken about my desire to allow her anymore sleep. I run my hand over Geralynn’s ass cheeks while she’s fully conscious, putting my possessive desires to claim her completely on display. Her eyes snap open as she gazes up atme with that signature expression of disgust and incredulity she saves for me.
“This is what I want.”
“I’m pregnant and sleepy, Renzo. I need to sleep.”
And I need to feel those thick fluffy angel cake ass cheeks wrapped around my dick. Only one of us can get what we want right now and it’s going to be me. I need to make two things happen at once – get my dick wet in Geralynn’s tight satiny backdoor and push her away from me emotionally by torturing her the second she wakes up from her peaceful sleep.
My feelings for her are beyond complicated right now. She closes her eyes again as if hinting that I should leave her alone and allow her to sleep. I raise a palm precariously over Geralynn’s ass cheeks and land a hard slap on the jiggly mound of flesh tempting my most sadistic urges.
She flies out of bed, armed with her pillow and righteous indignation.
“What the hell is your problem?” Geralynn screams at me with as much hormonal rage as her tiny, changing body can fit inside it. I can already tell that her breasts have grown from her condition. I wonder if her body will feel warmer and better for me to cling to while I enter her.
“Get back in bed.”
“Donotsmack me again, Renzo,” she says threateningly. I feel a sharp burst of pleasure from finally getting a reaction out of her after patiently waiting near Geralynn’s exposed body without touching her.
“I won’t.” Not unless she makes me.
“I don’t believe you,” she says. “But I’m serious. You don’t touch me again, or I will name our baby after Shaquille O’Neal.”
“You would do no such thing.”
“Don’t test me,” Geralynn says with that typical undeserved confidence she carries herself with. Her ability to wriggle herway under my skin deserves studying and explains why she became such close friends with my sister.
Nicki gave Geralynn the rights to name our baby in this ridiculous contract of hers and now I have to bend the knee (just slightly) to Geralynn’s overactive tantrum. It’s not my fault her ass looked like a breath-stopping giant pumpkin that I want to carve open with my tongue and suck the juices out of…
“Fine. I’ll be good. But I need something.”
“What do you need, Renzo?”
Geralynn doesn’t see the point in hiding her anger or disgust with me. That should make it easier to stay detached when I’m with her. We need to stay mutually convicted in our hatred of one another for this to work without our worlds falling apart. I might have agreed not to smack her ass cheeks, but I still need to make her hate me.
“What I need every day. I need to cum.”
She looks at me with that disgust again.
“Use your hand.”
“I can’t. It’s not tight enough.”
Geralynn has a witty response for that, which I should have expected. “Squeeze harder.”
“Don’t you care at all about my restlessness?” Her emotionlessness bothers me. I assumed she would make some pretense that she didn’t want me, but her eyes would drop to my sweatpants where my dick visibly bulges forward with desire for her.
“No,” she says with infuriating confidence. “I don’t care about you or your restlessness at all. I was taking a nap, Renzo.”
“Your life would be much easier if you calmed me down.”
