Chapter Four
“How is it?” Zaine managed to keep the anxiety from his voice. Ever since she’d told him yes, he’d gone home and thought about her and how she’d added excitement to his life in such a short period of time. Monique was ballsy and unpredictable, a combination he found hard to resist. A combination he didn’t want to resist.
Why would he? He’d mourned the drawn-out end of his marriage, and now the time to officially move on had arrived. Excitement stirred in his groin. Monique was the perfect rebound experience, and their deal the icing on the cake.
Monique swirled the fettuccine around her fork. “It’s delicious.”
She took a bite, and he watched her, fascinated. Did her accent get sexier by the hour? Thankfully, the table hid his massive erection.
He took a mouthful of the seafood pasta and had to agree it wasn’t half bad. Thanks to Monique, old pleasures resurfaced.
“Why did you stop cooking?” she asked.
“I cooked when I was first married, but then after a while we weren’t home at night at the same time or we just went out to eat. So I stopped putting in the effort,” he said, remembering the many nights he’d try something new and wait for his wife, who showed up too late or prioritized an important business dinner instead. He always wondered if she didn’t encourage his culinary hobby because of her packed schedule or if she didn’t enjoy his food.
Monique took a sip of iced water. “Such a crime. This is really good.”
“Thank you. You’re really good too. I want to know everything about you: your likes, your dislikes. What makes you tick,” he said, leaning closer.
She put her fork to the side of the plate and shifted in her seat. Then, she blurted out, “I’m a Scorpio, I have three younger siblings. My parents are divorced, my mom never remarried. I like singing in the shower, and I don’t like techno music. There should be a special place in hell for email hackers. I also dislike when strangers talk too close to my face.”
A thrill of excitement moved through him. Getting close to her face sounded delicious. He planned on kissing her, stroking her jaw, licking her neck. “That’s a broad range. And what inspired you to come to the United States?”
“I want to join an international teaching program that offers positions in Africa and one of the requirements is proficiency in English. So I saved money and came here to improve my language skills.”
“Nice. Why didn’t you choose England?” he asked. After all, it would probably have been more cost-effective for her to choose a neighboring country. Not that he was complaining, of course.
She tilted her head to the side, as if thinking of her answer. She gave him a look full of wonder, a red flag for her young age. “I could have, yes. But I wanted to explore the world. I didn’t have many opportunities to do so growing up. I figure now that my brothers are more independent and my mom is doing better, I can finally see things for myself,” she said, and her tone sobered at the end.
His heart squeezed a bit as he digested her words. She’d had a tough life, and now wanted to enjoy it and work hard to be able to enjoy it some more. To give back. A relationship didn’t seem in the cards for her, what with her ambitious plans to move to Africa in the near future.
“How about you, Zaine? Do you sing in the shower?”
“I haven’t.” But if you join me in the shower, I’ll belt out any tune.
She turned her lips downward. “From the looks of it, you haven’t done anything fun in a long time,” she said, and if someone else had said it, maybe he’d have thought it intrusive or sarcastic. But raw honesty exuded from her, part of her modus operandi.
He winked at her. “I did something fun last night.” Images of how he kissed her in the laundry room and how she lost herself in him with such lustful abandon popped in his mind. His cock strained against his pants, and he sucked in a breath.
She gave him a sultry smile. “True.”
He swallowed down the lump lodged in his throat. “You’re very blunt, Monique.”
An undeniable spark shined in the depths of her green eyes. “I can’t help it.”
“Don’t change. I like it.” He stood. “I’ll get the dessert.”
He headed to the kitchen. He’d bought some macarons, luscious strawberries, and a chocolate cake. He had no idea what she liked, but just in case he had some sorbet in the freezer too. He set the strawberries and the whipped cream on a tray and returned to the table. To his surprise, she was no longer sitting there. She’d vanished.
He placed the tray on the table and scratched his head. Shit. Had she bailed on him? Changed her mind? A splash from the terrace relieved him tremendously.
With long, powerful strides, he hurried to the outdoor area. If not for the splash, he could have found her by following the path of her clothes scattered on the pebbled floor. Her black dress pooled at the foot of the lounge chair, and her bra and panties lay closer to the edge of the pool. His cock reached a painful level of arousal.
She swam inside his kidney-shaped pool, the built-in lights outlining her perfect body. He touched his belt, but as she came out for air, he stopped, unable to take his eyes off her slick wet hair and the smooth curve of her shoulders. She was stunning, and when she parted her bow-shaped pink lips and licked them, his cock grew even harder.
“Give me a little show,” she said.
A little show? He clasped his belt buckle. “I wear the pants in a relationship,” he said, then a second later the foolishness of his own words rang in his ears. Doesn’t sound like it if you have to say it out loud, macho man. His gut clenched.
She offered him an easy smile. “That’s too bad, because I’d love to see your pants come off.”
He shook his head. Monique got game. “Cute.”
After keeping her in suspense for a second or two, he unbuckled his belt and tossed it on the ground. Then he unzipped his pants and pulled them down along with his black boxers. His gaze searched for hers, and he didn’t hide his amusement when she glanced at his cock with wide eyes.
“Stroke yourself for me. It’s only fair. You’ve seen me masturbate before,” she said matter-of-factly.
Zaine fisted his rod, blood rushing down, then he stroked himself hard up and down, his eyes on hers. She licked the corner of her mouth and touched her breasts, which floated just above the waterline, kneading herself and circling the hard nipples.
His rod grew stiffer, his balls contracting. What he wouldn’t give to unload on those heavenly tits. All in good time.
She wanted to play games. As long as he got to fuck her soon, he was in. “You like big cocks, don’t you?”
She chewed on her lower lip. God, he loved how amidst all of her sassiness she showed him glimpses of modesty. “Yes, but this thing you have…cockzilla. I don’t know if I can handle it.”
He squeezed the head of his dick, pre-cum coating the tip. “I’ll help you handle it just fine.”
She lifted her breasts higher in the air to expose them, and her nipples stood out even more. “Will you, Monsieur? Will you stick it nice and good inside my pussy and ram into me hard and deep?”
Her dirty talk pushed him close to the edge. “Yes,” he hissed, stroking himself faster. “I need release. So, as much as I love this filthy exchange, I’d rather come in your mouth or on those tits that have my name on them, princess.”
She slid one of her hands down and moaned, her eyes never leaving his. “Me too. Oh, me too, Monsieur Zaine. My pussy is soaking wet for you.”
His heart flipped in his chest, beating madly. If he ever came close to having a coronary, this was it. He’d either fuck her or die, there was no in between. “Monique. Holy fuck.”
He removed his shoes and socks and jumped into the heated water with a total lack of finesse. In a couple of strokes, he glanced around, searching for her. The waves he’d made when he jumped had quieted, and the stillness around told him she was nowhere to be found. What? He saw her delectable ass as she climbed out of the other side of the pool, chuckling.
“Come get me,” she said.
Determined to survive his extreme case of blue balls, he swam to the edge, then scrambled out of the pool, dripping wet. He didn’t care for one second about the droplets on his terrace or in his house as he strode back inside. He followed the sound of her infectious chuckles and wished he were as amused.
His heart galloped out of his chest. The anticipation of being with her sent hot bolts through his bloodstream, and in seconds, all the strenuous workouts and karate sessions meant nothing.
She ran upstairs but if she thought he’d let her get away from him, she had another thing coming. “Monsieur…” she called him.
Following her musical voice, he rushed to the second floor. He found her in the hallway, perhaps where she’d been dwelling on which room to hide in. He didn’t need to touch her, his stare must have warned her he was done with games, for she stepped back until she was pressed against the wall.
She breathed shallowly, her tits rising up and down. “Nice warm-up, wasn’t it?” Droplets still clung to her long, wavy blonde hair. She parted her lips, her gaze falling on his own.
They were both naked, inches away from each other. A beat of tension passed between them, their labored breathing the only sound occupying the space. He could feel the veins of his dick expanding, his body begging for release. Air got sucked out of his lungs as he slowly erased the distance between them.
“Game’s over, sweetheart,” he said, so close to her, his rod poked into her belly. She let out the sexiest moan, leaning into him, giving herself to him. Yes, the game was over…and they were both winners.
He grabbed both her wrists above her head to pin her in place, and crushed his lips to hers, kissing her into submission. She matched his urgency stroke by stroke, nipping his upper lip, panting when he withdrew to gasp for air.
“Yes.” She squirmed against him, nice and ready. “Oh, yes.”
“Are you on the pill?” he asked before the fog of desire overpowered him completely.
“Yes. Also, I’m clean.”
“Good. Me too,” he said, desperate to unload inside her raw pussy without any barrier, just his jism and her naughty flesh.
He let go of her wrists and slid one hand under her ass, helping her to spread her legs to fit him. Later, he’d have her in a languid, passionate way. Now savage need blurred his vision.
Zaine positioned his cock between her thighs, and she arched toward him. “Easy.” He thrust his tip into her tight pussy, and she drew in some air.
“You’re so big. God. Slap me with that cockzilla.”
He nipped her jaw. “You’re kinky. You like it rough. Damn, woman, you’re perfect.”
“It’s so good, but you’re filling me completely. I almost can’t breathe,” she said.
He contemplated stopping, but the delicious smile forming on her lips hinted she’d be just fine. She enjoyed having him inside her.
He kneaded her ass, adamant on relaxing her. Prepping her for the impending pounding. “You’ll get used to it, baby. Only a few more inches to go,” he said, thrusting deeper into her. Sweat broke on his forehead as he stretched her to the max.
She moaned, clenching his rod with her muscles. “Mon Dieu, there’s more.”
He nibbled on her lip, then released it with a pop. “Is that a problem?”
“Quite the opposite. Not even my vibrator is this big,” she said, and sealed her compliment with a kiss on his cheek.
“Good. I hate competition.” He slid out, then slammed back inside her in full force. If he had any morals he’d stop right now. Here he was, fucking this twentysomething hard and rutting her like the poor girl wasn’t used to. But, damn it, he couldn’t help himself. Her inner muscles clenched around him, her pussy so tight he wondered if she’d been fucked a lot in her life.
She raked her nails on his shoulder. “Yes. Yes.”
“God, you’re so tight. Your cunt is small and insanely hot,” he said, then slid down his finger to flick her clit. “Ah. There it is. Your clit is swollen and so ready. You want to come, don’t you? You want to fall apart even if that’s going to hurt your naughty kitty.” Because you’re a bad girl, he added inwardly.
And that, he absolutely loved.
…
“Yes,” she said, repeating the only word that made sense to her.
He plunged inside her, and she moaned. Loud, carefree, and begging for more. She scratched his shoulders, her nails biting into his skin. Zaine surpassed any expectations she had of him, and if her body survived this, she’d be thankful.
He rammed into her, faster, deeper, while his thumb teased her clit without mercy. She called his name until her throat was dry and raw, and closed her eyes, overwhelmed, unable to process the wonderful sensations overpowering her mind and body. She clasped her legs around him tighter, never wanting to let go.
She arched against him, whimpering, and only stopped moving when the waves subsided. He groaned and pulled out almost all the way then returned to her with one mighty thrust, filling her with his warm load.
Monique opened her eyes. He dropped his forehead to hers, catching his breath. She touched his heart and appreciated the frantic pace. What’s next? Should she withdraw from him and leave? She didn’t want to seem clingy by assuming she’d stay for the night. They hadn’t discussed the finer points of their arrangement.
Thankfully, he moved and withdrew from her, but before she put her feet back on the floor he lifted her in his arms. “C’mon.”
She giggled. “Where are we going?” she asked, but she knew the way to his bedroom all too well.
“The shower,” he said.
The irony of their already soaked bodies didn’t get lost on her. Beads of water still fell on his expensive wood floor as he moved, but he didn’t seem to care. He nuzzled his nose against her hair, his breath wafting over her, and a sense of pure bliss filled her.
Just then, tingles of awareness and, yes, a pang of pain pulsed in her sex. She hadn’t had any sexual activity in a while, and Zaine’s size took some getting used to. Not that she’d mind trying it again.
Zaine obviously had different plans. He turned on the multiple sprays of his walk-in shower, and soon hot water cascaded over her skin. When she’d cleaned his house, she’d always wondered how luxurious and sensual the experience of washing up would be in a bathroom bigger than her living room.
Steam circled them, and he set her on her feet. She wobbled at first, then found her ground and reveled in showering next to him. Her nipples tightened, heat coiling low in her belly. He shot her a knowing grin, and she wished for a second her craving wasn’t so obvious.
Without saying a word, he grabbed the bottle of shower gel and squeezed a generous amount in his palm. Soon, his large hand lathered her shoulders, his fingers spreading the liquid. He continued for minutes, caressing her, cupping her breasts and not neglecting any part of her.
When he reached down her pussy, she expected him to finger her, to somehow take advantage of the situation to arouse her even more. She moaned. If he wanted to screw her again she’d be ready and willing.
But no, he didn’t dip his finger into her cunt or work her clit like she’d hoped. He continued to wash her, quietly, though a glance down revealed his majestic erection. Maybe he had a plan, and she should just wait and see.
Hell, waiting had never been her forte.
She dropped to her knees and cupped his rod.
He blinked, obviously surprised, but didn’t make any move to stop her. She stroked his cock, first with her hands, then she brought it to her mouth. The sensation of not fitting all of him even with her hand and mouth set a fire in her core. She looked up at him, admiring the ridges of his chest, the perfect pecs.
He shoved his fingers into her hair and thrust his dick deeper, her pussy lips drenched. She loved his possessive side, because ever since their first kiss she’d longed to be claimed by him. She intensified her licks, her teeth grazing over his velvety smooth skin.
“Monique, I’m—”
He started, but a loud groan filled the air, and soon, she was swallowing his hot seed. He shook, and she loved seeing him lose control; to know that big guy quivered and hissed because of her did a number to her insides.
After swallowing him, she rose to face him. “You taste yummy.”
He embraced her, his long arms holding her close, and kissed the top of her head. She sighed into his hold, never before feeling so protected and cherished by a man. What a silly idea. She shouldn’t let post-sex intimacy cloud her judgment. She used to know the difference between lust and caring.
They exited the shower, then Zaine dried her off without hurry. She enjoyed the fluffy, oversized towel caressing and prickling her flesh.
“Wait for me in my bed,” he whispered, and then kissed the back of her neck.
She climbed onto the huge bed, the same one where she’d masturbated. The same bed he’d occupied with his former wife. She let her fingers stroke the luxurious sheets. How things had changed in such a short time.
He no longer wanted his wife… She inhaled, remembering he was still professionally bound to Ashley. That could complicate things a lot. If Monique had been smarter she would have fled this hot mess long before screwing Zaine.
He’s with me now. For two months, he’s all mine.
She exhaled slowly, each breath dispelling her worries and insecurities. He’d never promised her puppies and rainbows, but did she want those things? In two months’ time, her classes would be over, and she’d return to France—and hopefully in the near future she’d go to Senegal to work in a school and teach underprivileged children both English and French. Zaine would never give up his life in Los Angeles to follow her, nor would she expect him to.
When he returned to the room, deliciously naked, the remaining doubts disappeared from her mind. He carried a tray with a bowl of fresh strawberries and some whipped cream and placed it on the nightstand.
“We never had dessert,” he said.
She licked her lips, still tasting his salty flavor. “You could have fooled me.”
He gave her one of those soul-searching looks, making her heart squeeze for a long second then drum madly in the next one. “Trust me, what I’m about to eat is a lot sweeter.”
“I like where you’re going with this.”
He sprayed some whipped cream on a juicy red strawberry. She thought he’d feed it to her, but he lifted it above her lips, so she had to fetch some of the cream with her tongue. She tilted her head but before the tip of her tongue touched it, he slid the fruit down her neck. The cold of the whipped cream brought chills to her skin. She moaned.
“Like it?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Soon, he traced the lines of her neck with his tongue and she arched into him. His erection poked her flesh, and she spread her legs to welcome him. “I know what you want, baby,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes, rubbing the thick head of his cock against her tender entrance. “You want some more hard fucking.”
“Yes.”
“You have to wait. We’re not even getting started,” he said, and she bucked up her hips to tease his dick but he withdrew, not giving her the slightest chance. Why did he torture her?
He rubbed the strawberry down her breasts, the tip making a pattern around her engorged nipple. Then he dipped his head and licked her tit, his tongue warming her flesh immediately. She ran her fingers through his smooth, thick hair as a haze of desire blurred her vision.
He cupped her left breast with his hand, his palm immediately searing her. A jolt of excitement moved through her and she squirmed, unable to stay still.
“You’re delicious. Your skin was made for my lips.”
He switched tits, sucking her, his teeth grazing over her tight bud every so often. Her skin was made for his lips… She didn’t know exactly what he meant, but the words had the power of unleashing another level of heat she’d never even known existed.
She brushed her pussy against one of his legs and clenched it between her thighs. Before he moved, she rubbed her cunt against him, eager to create any kind of friction.
“You’re trying to cheat, aren’t you?”
“I need…to come so bad. Please,” she begged. “I’ll make it up to you later.” She grinded against him, and he rubbed his thigh against hers. Within seconds her clit pulsed with need. Need for release.
He continued his exploration south of her body, peppering kisses on her stomach and thighs. Her body trembled when he took the strawberry down her pussy. He shoved it inside her, and she gasped, surprised. He kissed her, and the fruit squeezed between her walls. Soon, he was lowering himself between her legs, his head disappearing in the middle of her thighs.
Is he going to—
He responded to her silent question by licking her.
She bucked under his mastery as he crushed the fruit in her pussy lips, only to start licking it off. She felt an odd but delicious sensation flooding her sex, with the juices from the strawberry blending with her own female arousal. Her desire reignited.
Zaine groaned, the primal sound exciting her beyond measure.
He removed whatever was left of the strawberry and placed it on the tray quickly, and dove into the V of her thighs again. He sucked her juices, and with two fingers, began to thrust inside her pussy. He teased her with relentless abandon, his tongue stroking her, his lips caressing her.
“So hot. Oh, Zaine. I’m coming in your mouth soon.”
Encouraged by her confession, he added another finger and plunged it into her. Deep. He slid his hands under her ass and brought it to his mouth like she was a plate of some exquisite food he loved but hadn’t had in months. Years. Decades.
He flicked her clit with his thumb while his fingers worked their magic, his tongue not far behind. He fucked her so good and in every way that soon she almost choked, her moans too raw, too loud.
Her body quivered, and she shifted into a weightless being filled with colors and sounds. She let go completely, calling his name, screaming his name, because it was the only thing that made sense.
Seconds turned into minutes of bliss, tingles moving through her. A steady throb pulsed on her sex, and she opened her eyes to find him watching her with a rather fascinated smile on his handsome face. “Fruit sex. Is that an American thing?” she asked in a light tone.
“I think it’s a Zaine and Monique thing,” he said, and his eyes darkened.
To leave LA with her heart unscathed in two months, she had to remember their bargain and downplay all the stupid reactions of her body whenever he looked at her with a blend of hunger, affection, and excitement—like they were both already a “thing.” A terrifying thing that could complicate her life.