𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭.

𝐋𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈

Raising an eyebrow of amusement, Syre intook her intoxicated state that acted before she could think. But unfortunately for her, he was so heavily intoxicated himself. "Amerie watch yo fucking hands man, Ian bout to play with you today—."

"Go back to your bitch, leave me the hell alone." She cursed to him, attempting to walk off but he wouldn't allow it. And as she usually did with him, she reacted before her thoughts could even brew. And her reaction was as it always was, raising her hand to be violent towards him as it was such an engraved reaction at the hands of men for her.

So the raise of her hand to his of frustration became her body snatched up at his hands. He didn't say anything to Amerie who cursed at him crazily.

The grasp along her arm created a redness to her skin, a hue that burned just under the tightness his hand pulled her along. Like a doll, she moved at his command, her stumbling steps trying their best to fall in line with the careless movements of him. He didn't care about the few eyes that watched them, but rather felt such gazes necessary in understanding she was only putting on a show for those watching.

Her repeated words of begging him to get off, and the small hits of his hand that did nothing, only created the energy within him that shoved her into the first open door seen. A bedroom, shockingly, that seemed so dark aside from the illuminations the brightened moon sent through the spread open windows that lacked curtains.

The turning of a lock captivated their two bodies in their lonesome, just the two of them accompanied by a mirror, dresser and a king sized bed. The open door to an attached room shown what seemingly looked to be a modernized master bathroom, with just the jacuzzi like tub peeking out, although the mirror reflected the standing shower in the corner.

"You're fucking crazy, I'm not doing this shit with- fuck!" She screamed, wishing to finish her sentence but the words were impossible. She couldn't speak at his hands, those hands that slammed her body into the nearest wall from the blanked out mental state that overcame him.

The veins of his hands protruded through the tightness wrapped around her neck, suffocating the light attempts of breathing she clawed at his hands to achieve. Darkness shone through the depths of his orbs that rotated so easily from a grayness, to a pitch black she couldn't recall ever seeing. Not in years at least.

"Imma end yo fucking life right here, I promise you." He grit in her face, watching the life that so slowly slipped away at his fingertips.

She winced in pain once her body thrown down against the hardness of the wood under her body. The bruising that began to form along her pigmented skin meant nothing to the man who dropped to his knees with her. The look along his face, so gone from reality that the only reaction she could posses went into the quickened beat of her heart within her chest.

A blink was all she could muster up, before her body was being flipped to support herself on all fours. And it was then, through the darkened coloring of her gray swimsuit, he could see the effects he had over her. The things his hands caused her body to feel, that leaking arousal that spilled from her insides without any control.

"This the shit you want, all you had to do was ask mama." His voice sounded so softly, so slick to fill her ears. His hands ran up her skin softly, admired her body that naturally arched under his gaze, knowing what he wanted from her. Knowing exactly what she wanted to give him with how much he took over her mind, held control over her mental state. "You have to ask for shit you want, a closed mouth don't get fed." He leant over her arch, speaking directly into her ear.

His words followed his actions, his hand that pushed the bottom of her one piece to the side for his access. He didn't need to look, the feel of her dripping nectar along his fingers said enough about the feelings that overcame her body. The ones that heightened as soon as he began to gently massage up and down her awaiting center, splitting his fingers ever so slightly to run just between her exposed folds.