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Your POV What a fucking bitch you thought as your gaze shot across the room toward your new best friend.‘What?’ She giggled incredulously.‘You said dare hoe!’‘Yeah nigga, dare. Not PORN! The fuck?’The entire room was either snickering or smiling except for you and T’Challa, who was tugging uncomfortably at the collar of his impeccably tailored crew neck sweater. Everything he did was powerful. Smooth. Majestic. His modesty only made him more attractive.‘Surely you do not think this is appropriate, Nakia’ began the Wakandan King, ever the diplomat and champion of those he felt had been dealt an unjust hand since his cousin’s fateful arrival in their homeland.‘No need to be so outlandish. Now let’s choose another dare for my good friend.’
My good friend.
You knew he meant well. You knew he was trying to save you from what he thought would be an uncomfortable situation but the words still felt like a dagger through your heart.The last thing you wanted to be was T’Challa’s ‘good friend.’ Maybe that’s why you decided to take this opportunity to show him you could be more than just a friend, if only he’d see you that way.‘Bet’ you mumbled, gaining your composure and settling into your best bad bitch impression.Okoye’s head shot up at you from her seat at T’Challa’s side.‘Oh-oh?!’And this time, with some bass in your voice, you looked at T’Challa longingly and repeated yourself with conviction.‘Bet.’You began to walk toward a suddenly sheepish T’Challa while the whole room whooped and hollered, Nakia smacking your ass and yelling ‘okuuuurt’ in her best Cardi B impression as you passed her (oh how you wish you had never shown her that.)M’baku shook his head and laughed quietly at the spectacle while Ayo giggled uncontrollably before returning to her Dora Milaje perfected poker face and a stoic Erik shook his head disapprovingly.‘This nigga finna die, he can’t handle all that ass,’ He chided as you and T’Challa exited the room, fingers intertwined, to find a quiet spot.T’Challa simply grumbled in response, not minding his reputation as a prude and used to Erik’s teasing by now.Only Okoye sat quietly, a small smile lighting up her face, hoping her best friend and the only woman she thought deserved him might finally end up together.As you climbed the stairs you could hear Nakia saying, ‘oh shut up Erik! You’re so nasty! They’re not going to have sex!’She instinctively left off the last part of what she was thinking.
Not that she would mind.
———————-T’Challa’s POVHe could not believe it.He could not believe Nakia’s brashness.He knew he shouldn’t have let Erik talk him into playing this silly American game. Truth or dare?! This was an obvious recipe for disaster!But he wanted to enjoy his friends company. It was the first day of Kwanzaa after all, which he was immensely enjoying learning about.The first day represented umoja- unity- and he was ecstatic to be sharing it with his most beloved friends.That is until they started playing all these strange and intimate games. He had been thrown into a closet with Okoye for something called ‘7 minutes in Heaven’ but they took the time to chat about classes and have a good laugh about the absurdity of American ‘entertainment.’ Then there was a bottle being spun on the floor that determined who you would kiss (what?!) T’Challa quickly excused himself. He returned just in time to catch Nakia’s eye as she contemplated a dare for Kiara. Her eyes locked onto his. ‘I dare youuuuu... to have.... phone sex! Wiiiiiith.... T’Challa! 20 minutes minimum! Let’s go, let’s go!’Nakia giggles uncontrollably as T’Challa’s gaze flits from Kiara back to her and Okoye nudges him with her elbow which of course no one sees.Kiara mumbles something and T’Challa immediately feels the need to protect her. Or maybe himself. From her rejection.Let’s choose another dare for my good friend,’ he encourages, but Nakia has made up her mind.He turns to smile at Kiara apologetically and notices she’s looking at him in a way he doesn’t think she’s ever looked at him before.His chest tightens and he sits up straighter in his seat as the realization hits him. *She’s walking this way*This time she speaks more clearly. ‘Bet.’ She saunters over to T’Challa and he tries not to pass out as she takes his hand and leads him upstairs.
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T’Challa’s POVT’Challa and Kiara find a quiet room in the lodge their crew had rented out to enjoy a Holiday break away from school and see what Kwanzaa was all about. Kiara was a Kwanzaa fanatic and Erik couldn’t wait to put the rest of them on to the holiday. T was excited to find that Africans in America were finding ways to reconnect with their shared ancestry. The more T’Challa learned about displaced Black folks across the globe the worse he felt about Wakanda’s inactivity in international affairs but like Kiara always reminded him, ‘better late than never.’He appreciated her friendship and if he was being honest, he definitely had a thing for her, but he was determined to stay focused on schooling and was sure she’d find him too boring anyway. No use in spoiling a lovely friendship. Especially when she was so well versed in African American, Caribbean and African history with a knack for indigenous and Latin American studies to boot. T’Challa had learned a lot from her and he’d never met anyone quite so dedicated to the diaspora or the notion that while we share a common thread, our cultural and regional differences were to be acknowledged, understood and respected if we were to truly get to know and love one another. T’Challa took pride in the knowledge he had gained since becoming a foreign exchange student and moving to the states to run the Wakandan Youth Center in Oakland. Shuri and Queen Mother were holding down the fort at home along with the remaining Dora. All was well for the first time in a long time and the young King felt like he could finally enjoy some of the things your average young man would enjoy. Except he couldn’t loosen up to save his life. It was not helping that he was now alone in a room with his secret crush and expected to perform some sort of .... sex talk? He was so confused. Well not that confused. But It was T’Challa’s uncertainty that brought him back to the present moment. Back to her.——————-Your POVYou closed the door behind you and leaned up against it as he sat on the bed, slender fingers brushing through his outgrown coils and running down his side burns nervously. He was so fucking cute. And you *loved* his hair long. You often imagined running your hands through it while he looked up at you from in between your legs. ‘Baby girl?’ The nickname T’Challa picked up from Erik brought you out of your trance. You realized too late you had been biting your lip and released it quickly from between your teeth, taking a seat next to the beautiful King.‘Are you ok?’ He asked, a hint of shock lacing his voice.‘Yeah, I’m good.’ You replied as cooly as possible.
I’m a bad ass bitch.
I’m a bad ass bitch.
I’m a bad ass bitch.
You repeat over and over in your head until you finally kinda sorta maybe believe it.
Noticing, but misreading your inner turmoil, T’Challa offers you an out.
‘We don’t have to do anything Ki. I’m perfectly fine sitting here enjoying your company until enough time has passed that we can rejoin our friends and pretend we’ve fulfilled their silly request,’ he offers sweetly, placing a firm, friendly hand on your knee.
‘Boy hush’ you respond with a smirk. You could not fuck this up. It was time to go big or go home.
‘Go in the next room. Then call me,’ you ordered, laying down on the bed and taking your phone out of your pocket.
‘....why would I do...’
‘Our dare, T. The phone sex’ you reply candidly.
‘... are you su-‘
‘Call me, T’Challa. Go in the next room. Lock the door. And call me, ok?’
He leans against the door frame for a moment to take in your beautiful figure splayed out on the bed before replying with a sigh, ‘ok.’
You don’t look up again as he leaves the room. You know you’ll lose your nerve.
You hear a nearby door creak open, then close and lock.
You stare at your phone impatiently.
A minute passes. Then three. Then seven. You start to feel foolish but you’re determined to see this stupid dare through, hoping you could say things over the phone you could never say to T’Challa’s handsome face.
You wind up calling him.
———————
The phone rings just one time before T’Challa answers.
‘T?’
‘Hey I..’
‘What happened? You left me hanging.’
‘I’m sorry love,’ he apologizes. Your heart flutters at the term of endearment.
*love.
‘What’s wrong?’ You ask instinctively, trying to stave off the heart eyes that will surely appear in your sockets if you continue down your current train of thought. It was boss bitch time not fucking Googly eye time.
‘I just don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do. I know Nakia can be .....’
‘Uhh... Spontaneous?’ You finished for him, and you both had a chuckle at that. Nakia was the epitome of boss bitch. She made her own rules and lived on her own terms while maintaining an integrity the likes of which you’d never seen, not to mention she was beautiful. Between her, Okoye and Ayo sometimes you were shocked they even had room in their exceptional crew for some random American girl. But you were grateful. Especially since your newfound friends approval ensured that you could stay close to T’Challa.
‘Do you trust me?’ You ask him hopefully. Perhaps friendship was the best play here. You could ease him into the freaky shit once he was more comfortable. In your mind it was a sleazy dude move if you ever saw one but what were your options? You couldn’t let this opportunity pass you by and you knew you could NEVER do something like this on your own which is why Nakia dared you in the first place. She wanted you to be happy and you were too scared to try anything on your own.
‘T’Challa...’
‘You know I trust you with my life. That’s exactly why I want to make sure you’re comfortable with this... phony sex?’
You giggle lightly and correct him, ‘it’s phone sex, T.’
‘Could you explain what exactly it is if you don’t mind me asking? I feel like I have an idea but, well. I would hate to feel like a fool and embarrass myself with y—‘ he stopped abruptly.
Ever the student, T’Challa was asking for a breakdown of phone sex. Of all things. If it was possible to love him more than you already did, you definitely would after this conversation. You couldn’t help but smile at his innocence. And you could swear he was just as nervous as you were but you knew in your heart it was because of the sheltered life he had led in Wakanda. You were hoping by the end of the night you would be the reason he was nervous, in a very different way.
‘Of course T’Challa.’ You finally answered, opting not to comment on what he had just said. ‘I mean it’s exactly what it sounds like. Two people talk on the phone and get each other off. You’re supposed to say things that make the other person want to fu-‘
T’Challa cleared his throat suddenly.
You hoped you were having the intended effect on him and kept talking, determined to see the dare through. Phone sex. With T’Challa. 20 minutes. And you were only on minute two. For a brief moment you thought he might have cleared his throat to object to your profanity but you had already made up your mind. You urged yourself to keep going.
‘The goal is to make the other person cum. You want them to orgasm. To you. The sounds you’re making. The sound of your voice. And if you’re lucky the person you’re doing it with is someone you actually want to be with. Then you’re kind of living your fantasy. And if they want to be with you too then you’re giving them ammo for the real thing.’
There was a long pause after which T’Challa simply replied ‘wow.’ His voice was deeper now. And you could swear you heard his breath hitch. So you kept at it.
‘Come on don’t tell me nobody talks dirty in Wakanda,’ you chided.
He chuckled softly.
‘I know the women are regal and otherworldly but everybody likes a little shit talk’ you declared, getting more comfortable by the minute. You settled into the sheets and crossed the arm you weren’t holding the phone with under your head. This was going to be fun.
‘And you?’ He asks suddenly, voice impossibly deep.
‘Me what?’ You reply, sounding way less in control than you would like. Way too breathy for someone whose supposed to be unaffected.
You can hear the smile in his voice when he asks the following question, ‘do you like a little shit talk?’
Your pussy responds to his voice before you can formulate an answer and you squeeze your thighs together. A soft moan escapes you.
‘I think I have my answer,’ T’Challa drawls, voice dripping honey, and you gasp. He hears that too.
You sit up abruptly.
Fuck.
Weren’t you supposed to be turning him on?
Not to be bested, You switch bad bitch mode back on.
‘Oh you heard that, huh?’ You ask laying back down.
‘Did you not want me to?’
‘On the contrary, Kumkani, that’s the whole point remember?’ You ask coyly.
T’Challa whispers ‘fuck’ before he can catch himself and you moan instinctively, wondering what other out of character things he might do if you keep it up. You had never heard him curse before. It was sexy as hell.
‘Oh you like that, huh? Mr. Modesty likes to be referred to as a King in the bedroom,’ you tease, your hand finding its way inside your pants, teasing your clit through your panties.
‘Only in Xhosa. Only by you.’
You buck your hips into your hand, moving your fingers into your panties with a much more enthusiastic moan than before. You wonder what he meant but your pussy is taking over your brain so you’d have to figure it out later.
‘Ffffffuck’ comes out of you in a whisper as you rub your clit furiously with your middle finger, T’Challa urging you on with ‘mmm’s’ and f bombs of approval.
‘I- I wish you were here’ you strain through a rapid succession of moans. ‘I wish you could see me. Touch me.’
You were unimaginably close and he had barely said 20 words to you.
‘T’Challa I’m gonna-‘
‘Cum for me sithandwa sam’ he growled.
And cum you did, making an unintelligible sound you’d be rather embarrassed about later. As you came down from your high you realized T’Challa was still talking to you.
‘Say my name baby girl,’ he pleaded.
You were happy to oblige him but as you opened your mouth you heard the knob turning.
*YES. You thought. He was coming to claim you and you were soooo ready to be claimed.
You reached toward the door and immediately moved to make yourself decent as someone who was definitely NOT T’Challa entered the room.
‘Damn ma, can I join you?’
‘Erik... what the FUCK?!’
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T’Challa’s POVT’Challa finds a quiet room and plops down on the bed nervously running his hands through his hair.He notices her staring. It takes him a moment to realize she’s biting her bottom lip. It takes everything in him not to pounce on her then and there. *it’s just a dare*, he thinks to himself. She’s only behaving this way because she was dared to. You two are just friends. The look she was giving him wasn’t ‘friendly’ at all though. She looked completely lost in her thoughts. ‘Baby girl? Are you ok?’ He called out. She immediately composed herself and sat down next to T’Challa.‘Yeah, I’m good,’ she replied, and he felt like she meant it. He wasn’t sure what was going on with her but he was really hot all of a sudden. Damn that sweater. T’Challa explains to Kiara that he’d love to sit and chat with her. That she doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to do. That you can just wait a while and return to your friends as if the deed is done. But she insists.So you walk into the next room down the hall and lock the door at her request. You stare at your phone for what feels like hours before she calls you and you feel so guilty for not calling first, but you can’t help but feel like she’s being forced into this situation and you hate that your first intimate interaction is just a ‘dare.’ You pick up anyway.‘T? What happened? You left me hanging.’Your heart drops down into your stomach. The last thing you ever wanted anyone to feel is that you let them down. You were a King. You had the means to right so many wrongs. Yet here you sat reeking havoc on the one you loved most. Shame was an emotion you wore like a heavy blanket these days, making it hard to move or breathe without discomfort. But she was your solace. And you had wronged her.‘I’m sorry love,’ you apologized profusely. I just don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do. I know Nakia can be...’‘Uhhh... spontaneous?’ Kiara finished, and you shared a genuine laugh at that. That Nakia was something else. You had grown up together, loved each other deeply, but ultimately decided you were better off as friends. Now here she was trying to get you to sweet talk another woman! My how life could change.Kiara asks if you trust her and you do. Then you realize you have no idea what’s about to happen though you hope phone (y?) sex is what you think. Being the pragmatist you are, you simply ask Kiara for the details.The knot in your throat and the bulge in your pants make you regret it immediately.Kiara tells you that phone (not phony *head desk*) sex is basically two people trying to make each other climax (omg omg omg) over the phone. Your interest is particularly peaked when she explains that if you have it with someone you actually like it can serve as a precursor for physical contact. You wonder who in their right mind would have phone sex with someone they’re not actually interested in but remind yourself that you’re working on being less judgmental.Plus you can’t help but wonder Ki’s thoughts on phone sex, and when she starts to sound more comfortable and self assured, you can’t help but flirt with the girl you secretly love.‘Come on don’t tell me nobody talks dirty in Wakanda,’ she teased. You chuckled softly trying to remain the gentleman you were raised to be.‘I know the women are regal and otherworldly but everybody likes a little shit talk’ She stated matter of factly, and it made you wonder. It was now or never. ‘And you?’ You asked before you lost your nerve. ‘Me what?’ Kiara asked breathlessly. Damn. She sounded sooooo sexy. You really REALLY hoped she wasn’t just trying to be truth or dare champion tonight.‘Do you like a little shit talk?’ You continue, gaining confidence from the sweet sounds she probably thought she was muffling. ‘I think I have my answer,’ you offer and she gasps.Checkmate.‘You heard that, huh?’ She fires back with renewed vigor. ‘Did you not want me to?’‘On the contrary, Kumkani, that’s the whole point remember?’ She asks, and it sounds like her tongue is made of honey. *Kumkani. You had taught her that word. You planned on giving her a lot more lessons if she Kept this up. You hiss ‘fuck’ without meaning to and get a full throated moan in response. ‘Oh you like that, huh? Mr. Modesty likes to be referred to as a King in the bedroom,’ Kiara teases, and you’re almost certain she’s touching herself but you don’t ask. ‘Only in Xhosa. Only by you,’ you answer honestly, voice deep and rich as molasses. You can hear what you’re doing to her and you never want it to end. Her elongated, moan permeated ‘Ffffffuck’ has you spewing filthy things into her ear. You want to hear her cum so badly. ‘I- I wish you were here’ she moans and you actually feel your dick twitch. ‘I wish you could see me. Touch me.’ Your lip should be bleeding from how hard you’re biting it, palming your now monstrous erection. She sounded so close. You wanted to get her there. ‘T’Challa I’m gonna-‘‘Cum for me sithandwa sam’ you growled.And cum she did. Your initial ‘Say my name baby girl’ was drowned out by a guttural ‘Ahhh nggghh huh’ as she reached her peak.You still wanted to hear it though. Just one time. ‘Say my name baby girl,’ you pleaded while stroking your impossibly hard dick, but all you heard on the other line was the name of another man.‘Erik.... what the FUCK!’———————T’ Challa’s POVWhat the fuck is right!Why had she said Erik’s....Before he could even finish the thought he heard his cocky, entitled bastard of a cousin’s voice next door and a furious Kiara screaming at him to get out. She sounded so angry and embarrassed. And of course, Erik was laughing. Enraged and definitely out of the mood he had been in, T’Challa made himself presentable to confront his peeping tom of a cousin.He knocked Erik away from your door with his shoulder and immediately placed himself between you two. Erik had taken a surprised step back but made no move to leave. ‘Fuck y’all up here doing? Niggas ain’t even in the same roo-‘As the realization hits Erik that they had actually completed their dare, one also hits T’Challa, but he fails to catch his cousin before he’s back downstairs telling the entire room.You can hear him from upstairs.‘They was phone fuckin’ fam! They really did that shit!’You turn toward Kiara just in time to see a single tear fall down her face as she walks back into her room. ‘Goodnight T’Challa.’It’s barely a whisper but you hear it. You hear the sadness and embarrassment she’s been forced to hold by your idiot cousin and it breaks your heart. Why did he always have to ruin everything?——————————-DownstairsOkoye is disgusted with Erik’s announcement.‘Are you some kind of fool?’ Why are you shouting their business at the top of your lungs? Have you no honor?!’Erik rolls his eyes. ‘Look I didn’t even know that nigga HAD business. I’m fucking impressed. And yo ass know I don’t have no damn honor. I tried to murder you niggas, remember?’‘Oh yes, I remember.’ Okoye hisses as she stands to her feet. ‘I could kill you where you stand but my King has decided you deserve life and the opportunity to right your wrongs through working alongside Wakanda to make the world a better place. If it were up to me-‘‘But it’s not so pipe down baldy’ Erik interrupts flatly.At this blatant disrespect Okoye advances toward Erik with Ayo at her side. Mbaku quickly intervenes convincing the women that he’s not worth the trouble and invites them to have dinner with him. He asks that Nakia extend his invitation to T’Challa and Kiara should they resurface, knowing she’ll stay with Erik despite his antics so that he’s not left to his own devices. She obliges and the beautiful warrior women leave them in the common area, flanking the Jabari warlord after giving her the Wakandan salute.‘Erik,’ Nakia calls sharply.‘What, girl? A nigga can’t make a joke around here?’‘That girl is sweet and very private as is T’Challa. You knew what you were doing.’Erik sucks his teeth.‘Listen I don’t need y’all niggas to like me ok? I don’t care about that shit AT ALL.’‘So you go out of your way to make us dislike you after we open our hearts to you? So you can continue being the orphan? So you can continue writing off your bad behavior as the actions of someone unloved and therefore justified?’Erik’s lip twitches but he persists. ‘Don’t bring that psychology bullshit over here baby girl. I’m smart too. MIT, remember? This little field trip don’t change shit. This Wakandan Youth center don’t change shit. Y’all niggas took everything from me and I can’t tell a fucking joke?!’‘Erik,’ Nakia starts, and he realizes how close she is way too late. Her hands are around his waist in an awkward but endearing hug against his back.‘I know what we’ve done to you. To your family. We can never take it back. We can never make it right. But T’Challa wanted you to live in the hopes that you would have enough good in your remaining years to shine some light in those dark places the crown has brought into your life. We’re not asking you to forget. We’re not even asking you to forgive.’Erik turns to face Nakia then, tears in his eyes but wearing his ever present scowl. ‘Watchu asking for then, Kia? Huh?! Watchu want from me?’She brushes some stray locs out of his face and behind his ear. ‘ I want you to keep going. Keep living. Really living. And not in the past, Erik.’ At this she takes both his hands in hers, and although his chest is rising and falling rapidly with anger, he doesn’t move away. ‘My only wish for you, dear one, is peace.’ With this she kisses him on the forehead and starts toward her room.‘Get some rest ok?’ She calls from the top of the stairs.‘Yeah, ok’ he replies, genuinely bewildered by her kindness. And he decides in that moment to at least try* not to be a total fucking dick.It was gonna be hard though. He couldn’t get the image of Kiara with her hand in her panties, back arched, mouth open, eyes closed out of his head. And the way she sounded when she came. Fuck.He should’ve kept his ass downstairs.
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Erik’s POV The next couple days were tense to say the least.T’Challa was giving you the silent treatment while Okoye stared her usual daggers at you every time you crossed paths. That you were used to. It was Kiara’s silence that was getting to you. You hadn’t apologized yet, but it’s only because every time you walked toward her she literally ran in the opposite direction. You tried really hard not to let it make you feel like a monster but you couldn’t help the guilt you felt. And along with that guilt came your default emotion- unbridled rage.You were going to the gym multiple times a day to blow off steam and having study sessions with Nakia because she knew no one else was really talking to you at the moment. She was sweet. But it wasn’t helping.One day as you left the gym you caught a glimpse of Kiara slipping into the elevator and ran to catch it, stopping the automated door with your wrapped hand fresh off the punching bag.She moved as far away from you as humanly possible in the small space and it made you feel like dying. Damn. As she stepped off the elevator at her floor you grabbed her wrist lightly. She jerked her arm away violently, turning toward you with tears in her eyes. ‘WHAT?! What Erik?’ ‘I just ..... Forget it,’ you sighed retreating further into the elevator.You heard her mutter ‘asshole’ as she walked away and you honestly couldn’t disagree.——————————On the night you left the lodge, happy to be done with Kwanzaa festivities and forced interactions during which Kiara made it a point to never speak or make eye contact, you were almost relieved that Nakia had at the very least gotten Mbaku to talk to you. Ayo had moved from disgusted to indifferent. Okoye stood firm in her disdain. Unfortunately T’Challa never did anything halfway so he went from not talking to you at all to basically stalking you in an effort to get you to apologize to Kiara. And goody. Here he came yet again to make the obvious suggestion.‘Cousin. Have you spoken to-‘‘Nigga I tried!’‘Did you now? You consider dragging her off the elevator an apology?’‘I didn’t .... You know what? I really don’t know why I bother with you niggas.’—————————Your POVYou experienced the strongest orgasm of your life in front of your least favorite person on the planet.Only you could be so god damn unlucky.The call with T’Challa had been so much more than you could have asked for. It started off slowly but by the end you were both really clear on one thing. You wanted each other. The feeling *was mutual. Sadly your zest for sexual exploration had been dashed by one Erik fucking Stevens. You had been so embarrassed you never even got to ask. How much did he see? Hear? Why didn’t he leave? Why did he seem so awkward in the elevator? It was way too late in the game to be trying to grow a heart. You would NEVER live that down. No matter how feminist Wakandans were you wanted to keep your orgasms to yourself and your partners, thank you very much. And Erik had exposed you in an unexpected and awful way. Yes everyone knew what the dare was but the way he advertised it? Gross. Just gross. And you thought you had finally managed to make a friend out of him beyond his comments about your ‘bangin’ body.’ Oh well.——————————Erik’s POVNakia’s slap to the side of your head brought you out of your daze. ‘Come on Kia I told you about that shit. If I hit you back I’d be wrong.’‘Erik, I’m playing with you. That’s called friendship. Say it with me. Friiiendshiiiip.’And at this Nakia pulled either side of Erik’s face to mouth the word ‘friendship’ while smiling in approval at her own antics. He didn’t say the word but she was able to get a smile out of him and boy was that smile beautiful. ‘Ahh. The corners of your mouth *do* go up.’And with that, your scowl was back. Nakia rolled her eyes and reminded you that you had yet to properly apologize to Kiara and T’Challa for embarrassing them OR Okoye for being unnecessarily rude. You were only interested in making one of those apologies happen. ‘Fam T’Challa already talkin’ to me, I’m not doing all that. And Okoye gon’ hate me forever. She got every right to. I ain’t begging nobody to fuck with me.’‘You are impossible, you know that?’‘Yeah. You luh me though,’ you teased nudging her tiny, toned arm with your rock hard shoulder.At this you could swear Nakia blushes but she turns her face too quickly for you to be sure, then rushes off yelling something about ‘packing her bags’ from halfway down the hall.——————You smirk although you know there’s no way in hell a woman like Nakia could ever fall for you. You knew how you looked and what you had to offer (bomb ass sex with no strings attached- DUH) but you were sure Nakia could get that anywhere, and as a Wakandan woman and best friend to the King, there was no way she could see you that way after what you’d put her nation through. Hell, you were still shocked she wanted to be your friend. Nonetheless your smile widened when you thought about the possibility of someone like Nakia loving someone like you. She was the only reason you still had some semblance of what ‘possibility’ even looked like, felt like. And with this spark of hope, you began to search for Kiara, determined to make today the day you apologized sincerely for embarrassing her the way you did. In all honesty you had been jealous. It seemed like everybody on the fucking planet had chosen T’Challa over you and this girl was YOUR people. Wakandan or not you had spent your formative years in Oakland. You didn’t claim America but you could barely claim Wakanda, even now. All you knew is you were Black, that specific, regional yet universally coveted Black, and she was too. Yet even she was drawn to T’Challa.You put a stop to those thoughts and reminded yourself that Nakia was your only friend and you were determined to keep her at your side. If that meant apologizing, something you NEVER did, then you would just have to pick up a new skill. And THAT you were excellent at.As if drawn to your resolve, Kiara appeared down the hall from you in some leggings and a sports bra. You guessed she was headed to the gym. Damn she looked good. But that didn’t matter. She hated you now anyway. Nervous about being in an elevator with her again you opted to go change and show up there instead. Maybe today would be different.————————-You walked into the gym just in time to hear Kiara grunting underneath a HUGE barbell that was slowly sinking into her windpipe.‘Oh shit!’Without thinking you ran over to her, removing the weight with one arm and throwing it aside before lifting her up and examining her throat instinctively.You could see the shock on her face at your concern but she couldn’t speak yet.After a few moments she put a couple feet between you and began to massage her throat herself, steadily backing away from you, eyes wide with an emotion you couldn’t place.As she headed toward the door you heard a quiet thank you and it melted your already thawing heart, (damn that Nakia!) As the door closed you offered up a quiet but genuine, ‘I’m really sorry Kiara.’You knew she heard you and you were happy she didn’t have to deal with forgiving you in the moment. She didn’t owe you shit. But at least you said it.
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Ki: He apologized!Kia: Finally! I told you he would! What did you say?Ki: Nothing! I was leaving the gym and he said it as the door was closing.Kia: Bitch if you don’t turn around...Ki: For what?! He owed me that. I don’t owe him shit.Kia: Of course not. But you must know how difficult that was for him with everything he’s been through.Ki: Uh Uh Kia. YOU’RE the one who taught me how to teach the people I love to be accountable. YOU’RE the one who took Okoye to task when she chose ‘the throne’ over what was RIGHT. YOU’RE the one that told T’Challa Wakanda wasn’t doing enough to help our people. Why should Erik get special treatment from me?Kia: *typing*Ki: Kia?Kia: *typing*————————Ki: He finally apologized T.King T: I am so glad. He should have done so days ago. Are you ok?Ki: I’m fine. King T: I’d love to see you. We haven’t really hung out since...Ki: I know. I’ve been so embarrassed.King T: I know what Erik did was awful. I hope your mind is more at ease now that he’s apologized. We need to talk about what happened between us.Ki: *is typing*King T: Baby girl?Ki: *is typing*———————————-Erik’s POVYou had finally done it. You had done ONE good thing this week. It mattered more to you than any outreach center or exchange program. *She* mattered more. You wouldn’t let that thought linger for too long especially when Nakia was floating around in the back of your mind but you couldn’t help but feel.... lighter. You had to make sure you thanked her for all her advice. She was fucking amazing.You gave your workout 150% that day and you did it without the usual rage induced over exertion that left your muscles sore and your body tense for days afterward. You weren’t trying to break yourself anymore. Nakia was right. It was time to heal. Time to seek peace.You exited the gym a sweaty wreck but you felt so great you weren’t paying attention to where you were walking and you nearly tripped over someone sitting on the floor next to the door.‘Oh my ba- Kiara?’———————‘Hey’‘Ayy. You good?’‘Um, I’m ok. I just wanted to acknowledge your apology. I heard you and I ... I appreciate it.’You could see tears welling up in her eyes.Fuck.‘I’m trying not to stay mad at you but ... why? Why would you do that?’You shock her and yourself by taking a seat next to her on the floor. ‘Not gonna lie baby girl. I was jealous. I been telling you how I feel about your body since we met. I only stopped cause I realized I was being an asshole but I still ... I still see you the same.’At this he looked you up and down and licked his lips. And damn were they some nice lips. How had you never realized how MASSIVE this man was.Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.You stood abruptly, almost falling back down again and thanked him once more for the apology.‘I wanted to be your friend for a long time Erik. So I hope that’s still possible. Thank you for apologizing.’You started down the hall eager to end the conversation and resigning yourself to the fact that you’d never know what he saw that night when he spoke three words that stopped your heart.‘I heard you.’
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... *cum*I heard you *cum*He hadn’t spoken the fourth and final word but you knew what he meant.And you knew better than to ask for clarification.This was not a conversation you were about to have. Not when he was all apologetic and fine and helpful and muscly. HELL nah.You needed to find T’Challa and get your shit all the way together. He was a jackass, remember? You turned around painfully slowly but to your hearts content he was still sitting by the door to the gym. Unfortunately he was also wearing the same smug smirk he had on the night he caught you masturbating and asked if he could ‘join you.’Fuck. ‘Listen. We just started talking again. Don’t make this weird, ok?’‘Ok, baby girl. BET,’ he smiled.And you knew you were in fucking trouble.
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3 weeks laterYou pushed all thoughts of a gorgeous and sincere but dangerous as fuck Erik Stevens from your mind as you (finally) met up with T’Challa for a long overdue *in person* conversation. Naturally T’Challa’s conversation came with a car to escort you to and from your meeting place, a catered dinner and flowers. What a man.Back at the Outreach center there had been non stop movement since your return from holiday vacation not to mention the Spring semester was heating up. You were thankful for the distractions because you couldn’t stop seeing Erik’s beautiful body in your dreams. Or thinking about how he flung that barbell off your throat effortlessly. And what else he might be able to toss around without much effort. Or how he sounded when he said ‘I heard you.’ And that ‘Bet.’ Surely it was a challenge. A promise he meant to keep. And you couldn’t figure out if you wanted him to or not. You felt so fucking guilty. Especially since you had been fantasizing about T’Challa just as often. Imagining it was him that came through the door like you had hoped that night. And playing a million different versions of what could have went down in your head over and over and over and over again. Your poor poor panties. They didn’t stand a chance. As you walked into the beautifully decorated and clearly Black owned restaurant you wondered what genius mind had thought to put all these gorgeous Black faces in the same space. To each side of the deep purple and cozy looking couches and love seats, cherrywood stools and tables to match the modern bar set up, lush greenery with purple accents hanging from the ceiling and modern furnishings were rows of iconic portraits including the likes of Eartha Kitt, Diahann Carroll and James Baldwin as well as newer trailblazers in their respective industries such as Lebron James, Serena Williams and Beyoncé. You really liked that they were all being celebrated, together, not only for their individual talents but for using their platforms. You got so tired of having to send people links to Beyoncé’s consistent acts of charity and activism every time someone mentioned how she must hate herself because she prefers her hair blonde. Like, come on.Lost in the bey hive that had become your thoughts momentarily you jumped as strong, lean arms suddenly wrapped around your waist from behind you.‘T’Challa!’ You squeaked happily, spinning to return his warm embrace. You inhaled deeply and felt him smile against your shoulder.‘You smell like chocolate cake,’ you gasped, at once hungry, confused and turned on.‘I may have made dessert myself,’ he smiled brightly.It was radiant. He had a smile the likes of which you’d never seen. You’d missed him so much. Your friend. Your love. How had you even lived these past couple weeks?Ever the gentleman, T’Challa pulls out your chair for you, folds your napkin over your lap, then pushes you back in slightly before taking his place across from you. You hadn’t gotten a chance to check out the table decor because you were swept into the main dining room’s extravagance. The details at the table were just as extraordinary. Purple and white orchids filled several vases in between slender white votive candles and intermittent small, flat lavender candles placed in water atop beautiful glass cups. T’Challa had truly outdone himself. He smiled as you took everything in, only interrupting you to ask, ‘Are you ready to eat?’Your stomach responded for you.He chuckled and politely beckoned the wait staff over, already armed with an assortment of various sized trays, beautifully shaped bottles, and intricately designed wooden bowls, each full to the brim with staples of the diaspora. As they began to set out the food your stomach leaped at the sight of it. There was split pea soup, collard greens AND turnip greens, 3 different types of jollof (you would later find out they were Nigerian, Ghanaian and Senagalese because T’Challa refused to choose a side in the great jollof debate), pepper pot, acee and salt fish, bacalaitos, barbecue chicken, cornbread, Mac and cheese, at LEAST 2 different curry dishes (one from Jamaica, one from Trinidad), peanut stew, white rice AND rice and peas not to mention an assortment of beverages, fruits and desserts from Wakanda. You could not believe how thoughtful he was to prepare a meal so reflective of the breadth of the diaspora just for you. What. A. Man.As you discussed your favorite and most fond memories of Black life in the states, he compared and contrasted it with his life in Wakanda, describing in great detail how the tribes, although different, came together to make decisions and respected one another’s differences. You were most fond of the Jabari. You told him you couldn’t help but be a bit jealous that he grew up in a Black paradise and a seemingly fully functional democracy, albeit structured by traditional rules. You described things like colorism, hair texture discrimination and the criminalization of Black children to him in great detail. His disgust was palpable.‘I am so sorry T’Challa I didn’t mean to rant like that and spoil our meal,’ you offer somberly when you realize you’ve been going on and on. He interjects sweetly.‘Nonsense. I can’t imagine living everyday being invalidated and treated like an animal. Your brilliance and beauty despite our history here is a reflection of your strength. It is an honor to be among you.’You don’t know why but this makes you happier than anything he’s ever said to you. As much as you loved your people and prioritized Pan Africanism in your daily interactions as well as your studies, you couldn’t help but get the feeling that Black folks in America were the odd men out, always being told they ‘have no culture’ while you watched non Black people across the globe do the things you grew up watching your aunties get in trouble for and get filthy rich. It was maddening. But it was also proof that not only did you have a culture, it was clearly top fucking shelf. You lightened the mood by telling T’Challa that despite the recurring diaspora wars around who cooks and dances better it was always nice to see and remind people of the parallels. So many similar movements. So many musical staples shared across continents. So many social cues that we all acknowledge but were never ‘taught’ per se. The universal head nod. How we move instinctively when we hear a rhythm. That whole ‘if they run, I’m running’ thing. We were connected whether we acknowledged it or not. And although that fact was tough to trudge through while carrying our trauma, it was also comforting. T’Challa smiled brightly. He loved it when you got swept away in your thoughts. He loved to hear how your mind worked and watch your passion flow through you. Your intellect and love for your people was a huge turn on for him. And with this thought he remembered why he had been dying to see you in person.That night.You *had* to talk about that night.As you helped yourself to a third cup of a bright pink liquid with the consistency of almond milk (it was so good!) T’Challa cleared his throat and leaned toward you across the table.‘I’d like to talk to you Kiara.’You place your cup back on the table smiling.‘Isn’t that what we’ve been doing this whole time Kumkani?’ You giggle sweetly.You honestly weren’t trying to be fresh. You felt really ... good. Really free. And ... hot? Why were you so hot?T’Challa beckoned the wait staff hurriedly over to clear the dishes from the table as you removed your shoes and sweater and let your hair down.You smiled goofily at him as they exited the room.‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ You wonder out loud, slurring your words a bit.‘Kiara I think you might be a bit inebriated,’ he says with a smile.‘The wait staff here is American and there were two pitchers with pink liquid in them. One was Wakandan liquor. I fear they couldn’t tell the difference,’ he says a bit more somberly.You don’t mind though.‘That’s probably for the best baby boy. I was gonna run outta here before you could ask me about that night,’ you reply with a smile as you turn your chair so you can straddle it while you talk to him. ‘Now I guess I’m stuck here, huh? You know. For safety,’ you tease with a wink.He tugs at his collar and it’s as though your filter has evaporated.‘You are so fucking cute.’He smiles deviously for a moment but you can see the wheels turning as his expression changes. He beckons the wait staff once more.‘Intoni i lo?’ He asks calmly.‘Engcwele umpe,’ is the waiters reply.T’Challa begins to rub his right temple and you wonder what’s wrong. You wish you spoke Xhosa.‘Enkosi.’ T’Challa hands the waiter an absurdly large roll of bills to be distributed amongst the staff and bids them adieu. Apparently he has the keys and you guys can leave whenever you feel like it. Of course.As the last of the wait staff exits you thank them again and direct your attention back to T’Challa. ‘Is eveything ok?’‘I fear your beverage was more intoxicating than I originally thought,’ he replies watching you carefully.‘What do you mean?’‘I thought it was just a popular Wakandan liquor but it seems to have been spiked. The chef here is also a personal chef for Mbaku and apparently he likes his liquor a certain way.’‘And what way is that?’ You giggled again. ‘How can you spike liquor? It’s liquor!’ And this time you let out a full throated laugh.DAMN you feel good. Why do you feel so good? You run your fingers through your hair and immediately feel like you need someone to touch you. ‘Kiara it was liquor spiked with a Wakandan afrodisiac,’ he sighs. ‘Mbaku takes a ... sizable amount of women to bed. This ensures his stamina.’You giggle again without meaning to and he begins to laugh with you. What a beautiful laugh. What a beautiful man. You begin to remove your shirt without thinking about it.‘Uhhh I think I should be getting you home. We can talk some other time.’‘Nope. Let’s talk. Right now. Lay it on me.’ You ramble, shoulders shimmying as the drink works it’s way through your system. You like this. You like this a LOT.‘I wouldn’t want to put you in a precarious situation Kiara. I don’t think it’s fair to talk to you like this.’‘Will I be hungover? Will I forget tomorrow?’‘No. Wakandan liquor doesn’t have those adverse side effects.’‘Then what’s the problem boo?’He smiles at this new nickname. You’ve never called him that aloud. He is a King after all.‘One side effect it does* have is making one rather honest,’ he responds cautiously.‘Oh then babyyyyy you better get it while the gettings good cause imma bullshit you all day when I’m sober’ you chuckle.He smiles so hard that his cheek bones meet his eyes and they crinkle at the sides. ‘You are so fucking cute yo!’You down another glass. He puts his hands over his mouth briefly as if in awe then folds them on the table, a contemplative look overtaking his features. ‘Why have I never seen this side of you Kiara?’‘Because you’re a KINGGG DUHHH! What I look like embarrassing myself in front of royalty?’ PLUS I’m in love with y-‘You try to stop yourself but its too late. It’s obvious what you were about to say.‘Kiara-‘‘Don’t say anything else until you drink with me. I’m out here by myself being way too honest.’T’Challa obliges you, filling a tall glass to the brim with the pink liquid in an effort to catch up quick. He downs it in a couple gulps and dabs his mouth with a cloth napkin. Ever the picture of class.‘Will it effect you like it effects me?’‘More or less. But I don’t need to drink to be honest with you Kiara.’‘Oh- I mean I’m not a liar or anything. You just... you make me nervous.’‘You make me nervous too.’You sit there for a moment just staring at each other.‘Did you want to do the dare that night?’‘I did.’‘Do you-‘‘Why didn’t you call me?’T’Challa feels a pang of guilt.‘I didn’t want to force you into something you didn’t want to do.’‘Well I wanted to.’There’s another brief silence.‘You cursed,’ you smiled.‘Hmm?’ T’Challa asked while pouring another glass. After all you had had a handful at least.‘That night. On the phone. You said FUUUCK,’ you exaggerated, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You giggled at your own teasing.‘Yes I did.’ He chuckled.‘I’ve never heard you curse before. It was sexy.’‘I had never heard you the way I heard you that night either. Kiara I feel the sa-‘‘You don’t have to respond to what I.. almost said. That I’d prefer to discuss when I’m sober.’‘Understood.’You begin to feel a throbbing between your legs. You try to squeeze them together forgetting you’ve turned your chair around and wind up grinding against your seat before you realize what you’re doing.You stop yourself and look up at T’Challa sheepishly. ‘Have you had this drink before?’ You ask, trembling slightly and trying with all your might not to buck your hips against the chair. ‘The liquor, yes. The afrodisiac...’ he trails off as he shifts in his seat. His arm accidentally knocks a fork off the table and you slide out of your seat to retrieve it before he has the chance.You have to crawl on all fours to reach the fork near his impeccably polished shoe, but as you grab it you notice two things.The first is him asking you to come back to your seat, insisting you didn’t need to get the fork for him.The second is his rock hard erection.
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You let out an audible moan when you see it and bite your lip, crawling forward without thinking. You’ve imagined being in this position a thousand times and in every fantasy you aimed to please. But as your hands found his legs and began to slide between them he slowly pushed his chair out from the table.‘Kiara I can’t let you do this. Not like thi-‘‘Shhhh’ you quiet him with an index finger to his lip, having crawled the rest of the way in between his legs. Now your hands were on his knees, exposed bra level with his waist, pussy begging for attention. ‘I’ve wanted to do this for so long,’ you moaned as you began to stroke him through his slacks. ‘Don’t you want me?’‘Bast, yes’ moaned T’Challa eagerly as he threw his head back against his chair. Your pussy clenched at the sight of the regal and composed King of Wakanda losing control.You took your other hand and licked your fingers but as you slid them into your panties T’Challa’s eyes flew open and his hand captured your wrist with a speed and force you weren’t expecting.‘I should have been the one to make you cum that night. And not with my voice.’You gasp as he stands, reveling in the sight of you on your knees before him briefly before caressing your face gently. You instinctively take one of his fingers into your mouth, sucking it tenderly, eyes closed.He bends down to kiss you passionately, bringing you up with him and lifting you so you can wrap your legs around him while you run your fingers through his hair. He lays you on the table (thank God they cleared the dishes out) and begins to kiss a path from your neck to your bellybutton. Slowly. Sensually. And you’re already twitching with anticipation.When he moves back up your body he places his fingers beneath you to unhook your bra, then pauses for permission.You nod eagerly. Your nipples are rock hard and he smiles crookedly at the sight, creases dancing around his eyes again. Damn you love him.He takes one between his teeth, swirling his tongue around your areola a couple times, sucking a sizable portion of your plump breast into his mouth and then releasing it to flick the tip of his tongue back and forth against your taut nipple. He alternates between breasts as you grab at his clothes, feel on his lean body underneath his sweater and buck your hips up toward him.He gets the hint and crawls on top of you on the table, standing on his knees momentarily to remove his sweater and undershirt. You marvel at his beautiful bronze skin and swimmers build, absentmindedly reaching for his pecs and tracing soft lines down to his abs and then his waistline with your fingertips. He twitches as your nails graze the lovely v shape beneath his bellybutton signaling a build more athletic and powerful than his day to day modesty would let on. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull his face down to yours, surprising him with kisses more tender than you realized you would be when you finally got to do this. His insistence that you wait until you were sober, ignoring his own erection, the look on his face when he realized he’d unintentionally gotten you drunk- it only made you want him more. Wakandan liquor or not you wanted this. You were glad it gave you the push you needed to act on it.He began to roll his hips into your sensitive but still clothed center, licking stripes and leaving sensual kisses along your collarbone while palming your ass underneath him. You opened your legs as wide as humanly possible, grinding back into him and decided the rest of your clothes had to go.As you nudged his head away from your neck so you could return his kisses, he squeezed your ass tight and rolled his hips slowly, deeply into your dripping wet core making you want him inside you that much more. You took the opportunity to lick a stripe from his chest to his chin and now that he was holding himself up above you on his arms instead of peppering your chest with his affections you could see his chest heaving with desire. It was a beautiful sight.‘Take off your pants,’ you moaned and an involuntary shudder shot through your body. This was really happening. Pleased with your reaction to his ministrations thus far, T’Challa grunted and dug his fingers into the flesh of your backside one more time before slapping it abruptly. He got more thigh than ass because of how you were situated but you got the hint and your pussy quivered with anticipation.He was back on his knees and then in a seated position removing his shoes, socks, pants and boxer briefs without hesitation. You watched in awe and instinctively began to touch yourself, bewitched by his beautiful body and all the things you wanted his manhood to do to you. He was back on you in an instant, going absolutely mad with lust as he watched you play with your clit through your pants as you stared at his thick member. He gently touched your wrist and you removed it from your panties waiting for instruction from your King.‘Is this how you did it that night?’ He asked biting his lip, and you shuddered again, knees knocking together recalling the intensity of the orgasm he ripped from you with his voice alone. You barely whispered ‘yes’ but he heard you. You began to pinch your own nipples, starved for his touch and unable to resist his voice. ‘T’Challa please.... touch me.’His hands were underneath you in an instant, sliding your pants and panties down your shapely legs in one fell swoop. He got to your shoes before remembering they existed and you shared a quick chuckle at his struggle to remove the mass of clothing that had gathered at your ankles. Once everything was hilariously forced over your feet he stopped your laughter abruptly with a lean hand on your soaking wet slit.You gasped as he gently rubbed at your entrance with the side of his index finger, moving up to your clit slowly and rubbing tiny circles there. You began to grind on his hand looking for friction and he slipped a finger, then two in between your folds, thrusting shallowly at first and allowing you to guide the rhythm and intensity. As you rode his hand he began to leave open mouthed kisses on your thighs and stomach, picking up the pace and ferocity when your hips began to swivel and stutter. The lip you had been biting so hard it could burst finally slid from between your teeth as you moaned uncontrollably, ‘mmmmm yes, T’Challa FUUUUUCK’ And your first orgasm of the night hit you like a Mac truck. Your overstimulated g spot immediately sought relief and you scurried up the table and away from T’Challa’s nimble fingers on weak arms.‘Shit,’ you laughed breathily. He stared at you like you were the last woman on Earth, and that was wonderful enough, but then he took the fingers that had been inside you and sucked them clean, causing you to- you guessed it- shudder un-con-fucking-trollably as he lined himself up with your entrance. Before you could even come down fully from orgasm number one, T’Challa had your legs on his shoulders, pounding into your sopping wet pussy.You were sure you were scratching the hell out of his chest, arms and back but you couldn’t really help it. He was so fucking big and thick and you could feel his muscles flexing every time he thrust himself into you and he was mumbling shit you couldn’t understand is Xhosa but it didn’t matter because the timbre of his voice was enough to set you off and it was all too much.You came again suddenly, with him inside you and were shocked at how hard your body convulsed underneath him as he fucked you through your second orgasm of the night. You could hear your soaked pussy clenching him tight, feel his balls slapping against your ass and relished in the taste of the sweat dropping onto your face as he gave you everything he had. Without thinking about it you licked some droplets of his perspiration off your lips and you felt his dick twitch inside you. He loved that shit.He pressed into you as deep as he could go eliciting a high pitched yelp from you before pulling out suddenly. Just as you were about to protest his mouth was on your pussy, making your clit an additional meal. A smaller third orgasm took you by surprise and had you feeling light headed but you were already being smoothly turned over and guided to a face down, ass up position before you could even react to your swollen clit twitching beneath you. He was inside you, impossibly hard and long and thick yet again, and you immediately began to meet his thrusts, stretching your arms behind you so he could hold them behind your back. He groaned at your act of submission and used one hand to hold your wrists together atop the small of your back and the other to softly grab at the roots of your hair. All you could say was ‘mmmm’ as he assaulted your g spot from a new angle and you felt your ass clap against him as your nipples were smashed into the smooth table top. Fuck. Were you cumming again?You leaned forward, absolutely spent, quite literally vibrating with desire and exertion but T’Challa took a firm hold of your waist and snapped his hips into you at a brutal pace finally chasing his own release. ‘Don’t run from me sithwanda sam’ he growled and you came again because apparently that’s just what the fuck your pussy did when T’Challa was around. As you clenched around him for the 4th? 5th time? His hips began to lose their rhythm, fingers digging into your waist as he pulled out with a moan and emptied himself onto your perfect ass. As you both caught your breath he retrieved his undershirt from nearby and began to wipe you off gently, then himself, taking a seat next to you. You shifted to your side from your hands and knees and were suddenly aware of how uncomfortable that damn table was. Had you really just fucked a King? On a table?You reached for him absentmindedly, shocked to feel his bicep when you made contact with what you were sure had been a very realistic daydream. He intertwined his fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles and releasing your hand to stroke your cheek. You relished in his tender touch, reminding you why you loved him so much to begin with.‘Did that really just happen?’ You cooed, stroking his arm in disbelief and he chuckled at your sated, woozy appearance. ‘It did. And I’m hoping it can happen again,’ he growled suddenly, hand moving quickly from your cheek to apply slight pressure to your throat. Your exhausted body couldn’t help but react and you moaned, eyes closed, rolling your hips into his side. When you opened your eyes he was just staring at you. Through you. Hand gentler now, brows furrowed.‘You are perfect,’ he quietly affirmed as you nuzzled into his neck. He placed a kiss on your forehead and began to retrieve your outfits from the floor about the table, covering himself with his boxers and then dressing you sweetly before making himself presentable. As he slipped on his shoes you plopped into a chair, fully dressed and yawning loudly at which he smiled. ‘Let me take you home baby girl.’‘Duhhhh,’ you replied grinning from ear to ear.