Rena
"I'm going to, ngh, fuck! I don't think,"
"Shut up."
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There's just a slight bit of sexual themes in this chapter, yep. LOL 🤭
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Music could be heard, blasting behind the painted wooden door.
Heavy breathing, the sound of sheets rustling and clothes tearing practically filled the inside of the room.
"Fuck."
Rena inhaled sharply through her mouth, her lashes fluttering as she stared at the man on top of her.
Fucking hell.
His thumb was in her mouth as the other digits curled around her throat.
Drool dribbled down the woman's chin as she squeezed his left hand.
He had his middle and ring finger deep inside of her.
Her thighs were wrapped around his arm as he pumped into her, her body bouncing in rhythm with his forceful movements.
"Fucking hell."
Literally what I was thinking.
Her scream was muffled as his palm rubbed against her clit as he twisted and thrusted his fingers upwards.
"Guh— Mh!"
Her hands fisted at the sheets above her head.
His teeth gritted as he stared at her.
Heavy lashes, darker eyes. She wasn't even sure if she could see his pupils.
His hair stuck to his skin, damp and gleaming in the dim light illuminating from the small little projector on top of her wardrobe.
The room was red.
When did she turn that on?
"FUCK!" Her cry was immediately cut off as he sucked the air out of her lungs, their tongues thrashing and pressed against each other's. He absorbed her moans and cries with each second, not giving her the satisfaction of making her pleasure audible for anyone to hear.
She could taste the salty liquid on her tongue as her tears began to mix with their saliva.
Her thighs were beginning tremble. Something was building inside of her stomach; hot and blinding her with pleasure.
She was hiccuping into his mouth.
"MH—" Her fists pushed at his chest a second later, causing his mouth to leave her as she gasped.
Oh fuck.
"I'm going to, ngh, fuck! I— I don't think,"
"Shut up."
His words sent a thrill up her spine as he slid his hand from her throat and pressed it into the middle of her chest, pinning her to the bed as the other relentlessly hit that same spot inside of her.
Barely two inches past her entrance, upwards and to the left a little.
"Zayle—" she gasped as she began squirting.
She couldn't even focus on the embarrassment lingering at the back of her mind as she tried to breathe, tears splashing down her face as her nails dug into his arm.
F-Fucking...
A squeaky sound left her as her trembling thighs tightened around his arm.
He was still fingering her.
Her liquids was everywhere, splashing his arm and soaking the sheet underneath her.
"Stop...! Fucking stoppit!"
She was a vocal one during sex.
And one who could barely speak at times.
He pulled out, rather roughly if you ask me, and flipped her over onto her stomach.
She didn't know he would take her this seriously when she told him to "make her."
She was loving every second of it, however.
A ragged inhale as he dragged her hips upwards and into the air. She could still feel her juices running down her thighs as she breathed heavily, staring at the man behind her.
Goddamn.
He was a complete beast in bed.
It was like a flip had switched the moment they stumbled into her room.
Like all reason and politeness had stayed behind with his cousin.
His fingers kneaded into her flesh, and she felt an odd sense of excitement run through her as his body heat nearly enveloped her.
He was leant over her and pressing his pelvis against her exposed skin.
"You're fucking wet."
She sneered, her eyes gleaming with the red light coloring the room.
"As obvious as you are hard."
His eyes flashed.
That was not supposed to make me drip like that.
His hand reached underneath her and she visibly tensed for a moment until she felt his dick rub against the folds of her pussy.
The flesh was hot, and felt so good on her skin.
Am I just sex deprived?
A light hum sounded from the man as she felt his tip press against her entrance.
She was sure he didn't need to go slowly with how hard he'd eaten and fingered her poor little hole.
I can't let some other whore snatch up this man.
"MN— Shit!"
While she was busy plotting murders in her head, he'd slammed his entire shaft inside of her.
Going too fast for my damn heart.
"Fuck."
Hearing his moan so close to her ear had her squeezing his dick.
It was raspy, deep, and she fought between just letting him completely dominating her or acting bratty.
Just to see what he would do.
"Wait, shit, stop." She gasped, reaching behind him and squeezing his thigh.
I'm too old for kids, fuck this.
He paused, and she could hear their heavy breathing in sync, slow yet heavy to calm their selves.
"I'm not having your children, no offense." She breathed.
Suddenly, his hand was under her and she was swiftly raised up and onto her knees.
She stifled a moan as she felt his flesh move deeper into her warmth due to the abrupt action.
What the?
His fingers were playing with her stomach, pushing and pulling at the skin as if it had briefly caught his attention.
"Stop that."
She smacked his hand away.
"Why?" He pressed his chin into the crook of her neck, and she could see his eyes boring into her's inquisitively.
"Because."
His hand was right back on her stomach, and he squeezed the flesh, his face looking quite innocent as he stared at her.
"Nigga, quit it."
Ugh, pardon my language.
"Are you insecure about your skin?"
His fingers grazed her body as they skimmed down her stomach to the sides of her thighs.
Such a light touch.
He lightly brushed his digits on the stretch marks that decorated her skin. They were several shades darker than her skin.
She never actually hated her stretch marks.
If anything, she adored them. She loved their color and the way they littered her lower back. To her, they were unique.
And also because it just proved that her ass was real.
"I'm not." She replied as he traced his way back up to her stomach.
Why the hell is he steady gripping my poor gut.
Sure, her arms may rival with a twig, but her perfectly thick thighs and gutty stomach were another thing.
She just had a bit of gut that wasn't noticable until she took off her shirt.
"If it helps, I do prefer my women with a bit of meat on their bones."
Okay, w-t-f.
The wording could be interpreted in so many ways.
"Who said I was your woman?" She snorted as she raised an eyebrow while removing herself from his arms, tightening slightly as she felt his dick leave her tight embrace.
She then turned and faced him, sitting on her bottom as she crossed her legs.
"Are you not?"
Suddenly we acting all nice now? Not like you were at all cursing and telling me to shut up just a few minutes ago but pop off...
"I'm not."
He sank onto the back of his legs, pushing his now drying bangs back with a confuzzled expression.
His brow suddenly arched as he gaze snapped back to her.
"Then what relationship do we share?"
And now he asks.
"Well, if you'd never pussied out after dropping such a confession on me, I would have suggested one thing to you."
"And that is...?"
Contrary to his strong voice, he was covering his face with one hand.
Even the red lightening of the room couldn't hide the color creeping up the back of his neck.
"Ever heard of friends with benefits?"
He hummed, nodding slightly with his gaze elsewhere.
Why is he always looking everywhere but at my face when he talks to me?
"Alright then..."
She looked at the tiny projector on top of her wardrobe with narrowed eyes. The red lightening was satisfying to look at, but she could barely see his face now with how it was rivaling with the color.
She scooted backwards, closer to her pillows and tugged at the wet sheet, causing Zayle move towards where she was.
She balled it up, threw it on the floor, and reached for her discarded duvet blanket.
Poor thing, it probably got abandoned with all the tousling they were doing trying to pin one another down.
"Are you picking your blanket up?"
She looked between the cover and him.
"Nah, I'm just telling it good job for staying on the floor."
She yanked it up and snuggled deep into the softness, closing her eyes briefly as she almost got slapped into sleep.
It was like she'd taken Advil or something with how fast she almost began snoring.
She watched as the man next to her lifted the blanket and positioned himself under it, moving much more closer to the woman than she'd expect.
"Are you mentally ill?"
"Excuse me?"
She blinked and and shook her head, dismissing the question.
That was most definitely not how I wanted to word it.
She grabbed at her long, black pillow, hugging it with a contented sigh as the coolness of the material relieved her.
She always became incredibly hot whenever she was tiring down.
She stared at Zayle from the top part of the in-cased pillow, watching his brows crease slightly before furrowing downwards, as if he were confused.
"What?"
"I'm obviously right here."
Okay, let's lose the attitude.
"Define your words?" She asked as she flipped a few of her curls back over into it's mess while propping herself up on her elbows.
The way she reacted in her head and physically were so entirely different.
She'd have the most violent thoughts about how she could brutally mutilate the person listening to her while giggling about how much she loved going to the store and buying food.
What was she, two-faced?
Zayle pushed his own hair back once again, his gaze turning in front of him as he sighed frustratedly.
"Don't you usually have something to ask by now?"
Huh.
Her mouth was slightly open as her tongue just touched the back of her teeth, her brows slightly furrowed as she looked to the side.
Hm.
She closed her mouth.
"Do you honestly think I'd rather spend time stressing my own ass out over some shit I haven't a clue about?"
"You wouldn't be so clueless if you'd just ask."
"First of all, shut the fuck up why you over there tryna get smart," okay, getting a little snappy. "Second of all, read in-between the lines."
His brow slightly twitched at the first sentence.
She secretly kept the reaction in mind, already plotting ways to make him angry just to see what he'd react like.
"Are you content as you are now?"
"Ever heard that sometimes it's better to stay blissful?"
He laughed; a little too roughly at the words. He flipped over onto his back, a smile lacking warmth playing at his lips.
"I'll keep that in mind."
You and me both buddy. You did not have to do all that extra.
"Hush, I'm going to sleep now."
"Why? Isn't the food still cooking?"
She sighed, closing her eyes.
"They got it. I'm sure Khail can manage in there by himself if they don't recover fast enough."
"It's giving irresponsible."
"It's giving you need to shut the hell up."
He didn't speak after that and she sort of felt bad. She did not need to feel bad, quit all that extraness.
A few minutes turned into a few hours, and a few hours eventually bled into a night passing and a morning arriving.
The room was still red, lighten up due to the projector, and Rena hadn't made the slightest hint of movement ever since she fell asleep.
Was she snoring?
The sound of her blankets rustling had her snapping upwards, as if she weren't knocked out mere seconds ago.
She look to the side and noticed the Zayle was deep underneath the covers, hugging her waist and she felt like holding him close from the sight.
Is that food I smell?
She unwrapped his arms from around her body without a second thought and stumbled off of her bed, roughly pulling her shirt down as she walked clumsily in the dim lightening.
She opened the door aggressively, her eyes immediately scanning the empty hallway that led into her living.
She walked down into it before peeking to her right around the corner.
Roy had her bonet on her head as she lazily prodded at the large tray of macaroni, her face tired and without makeup.
Glad I had my lashes and brows touched up.
"Baby."
Roy looked over at the sound of Rena's voice, squinting her eyes as she pointed the black, cheesy plastic spoon into the living room.
"I somehow salvaged it from Trey, so you better be thanking me."
There's that polite, hungover Roy.
Rena nodded and headed into the living, ignoring Treys starfish figure lying on the floor and Khali's sitting form on her couch.
Her green robe was folded neatly on a pillow and she snatched it up, glancing at Trey once more.
She put the cloth on her figure and tied it securely, stepping over him as she bounded into the kitchen, reaching for her black, porcelain plates.
"Momma said hey."
Rena glanced at Roy as she stacked the plates up next to the stove before piling the first one with cabbage.
"She still sick?"
"Mhm."
The curly haired woman nodded, pushing a curl back as she set the plate to the side and poured cabbage on the next one.
"Are you still writing?"
Rena nodded, moving in front of her dishwasher and reaching into the cabinet above it.
She grabbed a bag of Hawaiian bread rolls and opened it, grabbing one before she tossed the pack in the crowded counter.
"About?"
Rena hid her annoyance as she looked upwards with squinted eyes, as if she were trying to remember something.
"Something. Is the yams done?"
"Are the yams done, yes." She knew Roy was aware of how she switched the topic, but didn't comment on it.
"I heard of lot of moaning. I guess his dick's good."
Rena snickered and nearly choked on the bread she was shoving into her mouth.
"Mh mh, we didn't go that far." She shook her head as she caught Roy's dumbfounded expression.
"Why?"
Rena had an exceptionally strong love for sex. Blame it on her hormones or whatnot, she had a strong sex drive, and Roy was aware of that.
"Cause we didn't have a condom, duh."
"Well, my fault that I wasn't watching you two try and rawdog it."
"How about I rawdog that spoon up your ass?"
She paused, her mouth open before she shook her head.
Rena said far too many odd things that sometimes didn't make the slightest bit of sense for Roy to even sweep on it.
"They still sleep?" She asked instead, glancing at Rena's unbothered person.
"Are they still asleep, yes."
"Petty ass bitch."
Rena grinned, eyeing the Hawaiian rolls before she turned and walked back into the living room.
"Trey."
He didn't even stirr in the slightest.
"Trey."
Silence.
She stepped on his face and walked over to Khail, whose lashes fluttered slightly due to the loud cursing coming from the man who was now wide awake on the floor.
"The fuck?!" He snapped, staggering upwards as he settled a hand on the couch behind him.
"Maybe if you stopped staying up drinking folk's wine, and get off people's floor, you wouldn't get stepped on."
Ugly ass roach.
"You seem to be in a foul mood."
She turned her attention back to the man in front of her, who looked as if he had did a full morning skin care routine and not at all had just awoken from a good ten to fourteen hour sleep.
"Have you ever seen someone so compliant on mornings?"
He slid his gaze from her to over her shoulder, and she didn't even have to look behind her as she felt arms snake around her waist.
"Good morning."
There was a faint mumble from Zayle as he slumped against Rena's figure, dipping his face into the crook of her neck.
Okay...
She couldn't even shake her head as she turned, feeling his body turn with her, and they made their way back into the kitchen.
Roy raised an brow at the new addition to Rena's body and she shook her head, not even wanting to hear the question.
"Y'all look cute, I guess."
Rena snorted.
"I guess."
She watched Roy's body move around the kitchen, slapping macaroni on plates while staring at the sitting turkey on the stove.
"A little help?"
"A little help with this wannabe monkey on me?"
I didn't mean to say that...
Roy huffed, slamming the plastic spoon in the counter with an annoyed look.
"Yo. Zay. Can you like, move or something? Go do something productive."
Rena snickered at her words, but then paused when she saw a fear flash across Roy's face before she went back to loading up plates.
She felt Zayle's warmth leave her and she slightly turned to see the man.
He looked as innocent as any other day, which made her frown before shaking her head.
Whatever, I'm just here for the food, the hell.
She walked into the kitchen and helped Roy load up plates, wrapping a few up as she blundered around the space.
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