Peeling Back the Top Layer 🇯🇲

27| Sweet surrender

Chaunard doesn't move from where I left him. He finishes his drink in one gulp then takes me by the hand and leads the way to the poorly lit parking lot, which has a few people scattered around, either getting ready to leave or waiting for other patrons to be ready.

The night air is chilly and my little black dress is barely enough to shield me from its onslaught. He instinctively wraps one arm around my shoulder and pulls me closer to him, providing some much-needed warmth.

"I thought you would be at home resting. What are you doing here?" I ask.

"A me fi ask you dat. Nuh birthday dinner yuh seh yuh gone? How yuh end up yah so?"

"Yeah, it was supposed to be dinner but Marsha decide at di last minute to come here. Now... what are you doing here?"

"Marco is one of the promoters. I wasn't gonna come but since you did busy mi decide fi jus pass through and support him ting."

"I get you."

"Mhmm... but den mi end up a come see mi woman a wine pon another man. Bruk mi poor likkle heart," he says, clutching his chest and acting hurt.

His silliness makes me laugh and I push him lightly. It definitely bothers him that I danced with Marsha's cousin, but knowing him, he won't make a big deal about it. He'll find some other way to assert his dominance, like fucking with a vengeance to release his anger. And that's a damn good form of punishment if you ask me.

"Then why yuh never step in and mek yuh woman wine pon you instead?"

"Mi nuh de pon dat. Naw cramp nuh man style... A she fi know seh she nuffi have a next man a grind pon mi tings," he says, unlocking a different vehicle from the sedan I'm used to him driving.

"And what exactly is yours?" I cock my head to the side in anticipation of his response.

He glances over his shoulder before turning to stand directly in front of me and backing me up against the car. His hand moves to the hem of my dress and finds its way between my thighs before gliding up to the apex and cupping my vagina.

"This..." he says with his thumb pressing against my clit and like a switch, it turns me on. He moves it in circles and amplifies my arousal.

"All of you... Mine."

He is gentle yet firm, calm yet stern, tolerant yet possessive.

My chest is too tight to breathe comfortably with me looking into his lust-filled eyes.  I'm utterly dumbfounded. His delectable scent floods my nostrils and I can almost taste him. My mouth drops open while my brain threatens to combust from an overload as it struggles to register the torrent of pleasure rushing from the single point of contact.

I can't move... because if I try, my weak limbs won't carry me.

I can't speak... because if I open my mouth not one sound would come out.

And, I can't think... because although all my senses are firing, all I want to do, all I can do is feel.

My eyes flutter closed at the feel of his soft lips on mine and I involuntarily kiss back, bringing my arms up to wrap around his neck. He cups one of my breasts, squeezing it lightly and drawing a moan from me.

I am but a guest in my own body, allowed to experience his every touch and each sensation with it but unable to control my movement.

"I missed you," I whisper when he breaks our kiss and I regain composure.

He is right.

I am his.

Unequivocally and unwaveringly his.