Jagger
I took Mikayla to an X Members’ place of business and spent an insane amount of money requesting rushed alterations to two of her clothing items, by one of the most sought-after weapons specialist in the world, and she still doesn’t believe that we are here to assassinate William Freedman.
I weighed the notion of showing her his contract, and even her own, but I’m still hesitant to tell Mikayla much more about her past in Nivean. Besides, she didn’t believe what I already told her, anyway. Contracts are never offered to more than one person unless there’s a kill-head, which is a ‘free for all’ contract on another member. The shit Ava was hoping not to sanction on me for declining to babysit the gorgeous woman before me. So, we shouldn’t have to worry about other members showing up. I’m just not sure how to get her to believe me, and fully grasp the situation.
Mikayla asked for a “last dinner” at the buffet located in The Palms, after I threatened her life due to her refusal to eat. It’s just after lunchtime for most Americans, so the place could be busier.
There are mountains of food on plates cluttered in her area. I’ve watched her demolish food from a buffet that boasts food from the entire world - Italian, Mexican, Indian, and a few more, but not African. I guess to the people of the States an entire continent doesn’t count.
On my side of the booth is my plate. It had turkey, veggies and mashed potatoes. I polished it off while watching her head for a third round of food.
“Last dinner?” I ask. Had I heard her correctly?
“Yes,” she says, plainly.
“That’s a bold statement.”
“You’re a bold man. At any given time, my attitude can cause you to snap. To snuff me out,” she answers, in stoic resignation.
I laugh for the first time since I can recall. “You sound like an old mob movie.”
The “last meal” and disbelief aside, I’m enjoying Mikayla’s company. The last time I enjoyed a woman’s company and had yet to fuck her, I wasn’t yet a man.
“Well excuse me,” she says, moving aside a meatloaf and rice plate for one that includes orange chicken, beef and broccoli and other Chinese food staples. “The last assassin movie I watched, actually the first and last assassin movie I watched, was Ninja Assassin. So my vernacular is a little off, though I do like Kung Fu movies.
“I’ll have to search for that movie the next time I get the chance,” I reply, honestly. Sounds like it my kind of film.
“Something tells me that television or movie watching isn’t one of your past times. Prior to college, I had my favorites: Scandal, The Game, How to Get Away with Murder. I don’t know what’s on TV anymore, let alone at the movie theater. Before you …” She makes a hand movement with her index finger gliding across her neck, “Eighty-six me, maybe my last meal can transition into dinner and a movie?”
My eyebrows arch. I disregard her statement about me killing her and continue the original conversation. Isn’t that what other people do when someone refuses to see the truth? “I’m a hands-on kind of guy. I could show you a few Kung Fu moves or Taekwondo. When I’m home, I’m working on my trucks and quads, stuff like that.”
“So you’re a tinkerer?” she asks with humor.
I almost choke on my drink. “Mikayla, I’ve been called many things, but not once a fucking tinkerer. You saw my truck in action last night. The torque was superb. You almost drove that motherfucker into the ground. Don’t insult me.”
She holds up two fried chicken bones in a cross shape. “And the motorcycle malfunction, was that you too?”
I laugh again, this time Mikayla laughs with me. “I’m an engineer, Mikayla, trial and error go with the process.”
Her smile fades. Fuck, what did I say? I might be antisocial these days, but I recall that conversations were like tennis. I was winning her over…
No, wait. Fuck, there’s no winning Mikayla Bryant. She was born claimed.
“Crab legs and butter, mmmmm, Jagger, you don’t even know what you’re missing.” She leans back in the booth seat, let her head fall, and her mouth is the perfect point for me to focus on.
“Have you had enough?”
“Nope. My cousins and I scrounge up all of our quarters during our spring break Vegas trip. We always eat here on the last night, for obvious reasons.” She glances down at her abdomen which has a cute little pooch to it. “Damn, Pooh bear is back.”
“We can come back tomorrow if you’d like,” I shrug.
Mikayla sits forward and almost tips her wine. She giggles and takes a sip. “We should have dessert, you know? Something super sweet.”
I can’t mess with my sugar levels. Instead of responding to Mikayla, I’m glued to watching her plump lips in action. She dunks another piece of crab meat into butter, tosses her head back and enjoys. Then Mikayla licks her lips and fingers, causing me to shift in my seat. My cock is my worst enemy.
“What’s your favorite dessert, Jagger?”
My shoulders rise. I prefer Mikayla talking about herself. Had I known she would be so nice after being given the food of her choice, I would have fed her like this long ago, and fucked her already… were she any other woman.
“C’mon, you’re a big guy. You must have a guilty pleasure? Vanilla ice cream?” she guesses.
“Why would you say that?”
“Oh, because you’re a bully. And a tinkerer. Sounds boring like a one-flavored ice cream. I’m a fan of cookies and cream,” she says accentuating the word, and I’m stuck biting my tongue to keep from telling her that I want to eat every inch of her cream. “I also like pralines and cream…” she continues, unaware of my inner struggle.
Here we go again. My fists tighten beneath the table and I try to think blood and gore. Not sex with the Prince of Zihula’s woman. My cock is on the defense telling me there’s nothing wrong with having her… once.
Just one tiny fuck and get it over with.
“I also like cheesecake and chocolate cake.” She eye fucks me while asking, “So what’s your favorite, Jagger? I can keep a secret.”
Can you keep the secret of me fucking you? I tell her, “Malva…”
“Malva?” She bites the inside of her bottom lip.
I stand. “Let’s go,” I growl.
Mikayla doesn’t even jolt as usual when I shout. A few people glance over.
“Oh, so you’re going to toss your weight around.” She arises but instead of following, leans against the edge of the table. Mikayla shoves her hand into her hair, much like I do when frustrated. She isn’t in the least. No, she’s contemplating and chewing on her lip; transforming my cock into her willing slave.
“Malva is your favorite dessert?” Her gaze is innocent as she glances up at me. “You called me Malva last night.”
“I did.” I press my hands on each side of the table, blocking her path. The temptress seems aware of the can of worms she opened, when I press my groin against her. My mouth lingers near her neck, and I push back a ball of nerves and breathe in pure lust. She can’t breathe straight. If I fuck her, maybe we can blame it on delusions.
She speaks, “Again, I must confirm Malva isn’t some sort of disgusting, nutritious vegetable?”
My thumb presses over her mouth, as I shake my head. “Disgusting? Not in the least. Nutritious? Well, that depends on what you’ve consumed Mikayla.”
My statement causes her beautiful brown eyes to cloud with confusion. “Malva is a sweet, delectable caramel pudding,” I clasp her hip. “I know for a fact that your pussy tastes just as sweet.”
“Jagger, we… are at a buffet.” She glances around.
My gaze tells her that I don’t give a fuck about having an audience. She’s already tempted me. “Can I have you tonight?”
I kiss her slender neck. She’s gulping like crazy, and the desire swarming in my abdomen, heading straight to my cock, is at rage levels. I imagine myself licking the folds of her pussy; my tongue will offer the only penetration. The Prince of Zihula will be none the wiser that I’d just had a taste of his soon to be queen. He couldn’t know that I only fucked her with my mouth, right? We can keep that sweet, tight pussy intact. I need just a few licks until she orgasms in my mouth. That won’t hurt, would it?
“Let me own you just for the night, Mikayla. I’ll lick that pretty pussy of yours, it won’t hurt one bit.” My lips are inches from hers as I declare just how well I plan to fuck her with my mouth. “I promise to let you know just how fucking sweet you are. The only thing that will touch that tight, virgin pussy of yours will be my mouth, nothing else, Kayla. That’s a promise. Let me in.”
Her heart is racing against my abdomen. I take the chance to clutch between her thighs, right here in the middle of the buffet. There’s enough food here for a tiny country off the coast of my home, and yet, the only nourishment I desire resides between these thighs.
Mikayla presses her hands against my chest, breaking our connection. “Never call me, Kayla.”
***
We arrive at our suite by 7:30 p.m. The sun is still descending in the city that never sleeps when Mikayla requests to take a shower.
I stalk back and forth in the living room, spinning my Magnum into my palm then holstering it. Over and over, I spin then holster it while imagining the taste of her. I’m mid-spin, like a restless animal, when I slam the gun onto an accent table.
Fucking Mikayla… might as well put a bullet into my own dome.
“Jagger…”
My narrowed gaze goes to the bedroom door. Leaning against the door frame in all of her naked glory is none other than the woman I’m forbidden to touch.
In a nanosecond, every inch of Mikayla’s curves are sketched into my brain.
Logic would inquire why she’s naked… but I’m a fucking dog. A dumb hungry dog, and she’s my bone.
Caramel coated curves. Her hips are wider than I had anticipated. She hasn’t even dried off; water drops from her hard nipples, trickling between her breasts. I watch a single drop as it caresses down her waist and lands into her neatly trimmed set of coils. Is the inside of her pussy as thick as those juicy thighs? All I recall from last night is how tight she was and how delicious she tasted. I want that. I need it. Need it to be mine.
My palms itch. My dick is the worst kind of traitor, stiff and obvious as if I had a tree trunk in my pants.
The intuition I was born with warns me not to taste. The little bit I had last night, damn near killed me with lust.
And I’m a fucking liar. Taste her without screwing? Shit, that’s a helluva lie.
If I satiate myself with just the drink of her orgasms, will I be able to relinquish this beautiful woman to…
“Jagger, I thought you wanted to eat my pussy?” she murmurs.
“Uthando lwami, I don’t want to just eat you.”
In a few quick strides, I’ve torn the flannel from my chest and gone to her. I’m instantly down on my knees, the princess deserves it. My broad chest puffs as I inhale her clean fragrance. “I’m going to fucking devour you until you orgasm so much you can’t remember your own name,” I warn as my nose nudges her clit. “So hard, all you ever know is my name when you think of my sweet, pretty, tight pussy.” I flick my tongue around her clit. “This is my pussy, Mikayla.”
“Ohhhh…” she groans. Her one hand grips my hair and the other steadies herself against the door frame.
I jump up and have her in my arms in seconds.
There’s music softly playing from the surround sound in the bedroom. The handcuffs are on Mikayla’s side of the bed.
I place her in the center. She sits there on a cloud of pillows.
“Don’t close these, ever.” I demand, gripping the inside of her creamy soft legs and spread them open wide. The sight of her beautiful cunt takes my breath away. Her pussy is swollen, and I can see her clitoris poking from her lips. Her lips are so wet and glistening, but that stiff little bud begs for my attention. My thumb grazes over it, and Mikayla’s smile brightens for me. With the silent promise that I’ll get back to her cute little cunt soon, I climb onto the bed between her legs and kiss her. My teeth grating her bottom lip and then I taste the inside of her mouth again, addicted to how her tongue caresses against mine. I never gave a damn about kissing but tonight, everything has changed. I promised that just these lips, my lips would please her.
My cock thumps in anger. Tired of waiting to be inside of her warm slick heat.
Mikayla sucks in a shocked breath. She rubs her hand on my jaw. “Jagger, your mouth only, right?”
“Yes,” I nip at her neck, sucking her quickening pulse. My tongue flicks out as it trails over her skin to her breast. I favor the left one, and she moans, gripping at my hair.
Down to her bellybutton.
When I get to her pussy, I bite the inside of her thigh.
“Jagger…” Mikayla screams.
My mouth glides straight to her pussy lips to cut the pain. Her body mellows.
“Oh my, oh my gawwwwwd, Jagger!”