“Uuuuuuuuuh!” my throaty cry is nearly silent compared to hers.
She lifts and impales once again. I know this borderlines painful for her. I see the sweat beads forming above her lips and her body is trembling on top of me. We’re both panting out loud, neither of us moving for a while. She’s so fucking tight; it’s been quite some time. But my determined Rayna is moving before I know it. She’s rising and falling, using her thighs astride my waist to balance herself as she pulls up and sinks down on me. My vision’s blurred and if I don’t gain ahold of myself, I’m going to lose it before giving her a second orgasm.
I grab her dampened frame and shift off the bed then lay her back on the edge as I stand over her. Her eyes are harsh and her breathing is still frantic. Rayna wraps her leg around me as I lower myself, driving into her. She bites her lips and tightens her legs, pushing me into her.
“Harder!” she demands forcefully. “Harder!”
“Gaaaaah!” I push out as I start to go ape shit on her pelvis.
I’m rocking hard and fighting my own release. My hands cuff her arms above her head as I plunge hard into her, filling her to the hilt. I have to give her at least one more to make her remember what we’ve been missing. In my libidinous delirium, I take one hand and grab her neck, minimizing her airway, but not totally closing it off. I’ve only done this with her a handful of times, and just like those times, Rayna climaxes within seconds. My thrusts are hard, savage, and yet all so satisfying. As I let up on her throat, I’m coming right behind her.
My head feels like it’s about to spin off from my spine. My heart is making its way out of my chest. Rayna’s arms shoot up from the bed and pull me into her chest, holding me so tight that I can feel her heartbeat almost as much as I feel her inner walls throbbing all around me.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispers breathlessly in my ear.
After a few moments, when I’m able to speak, I mumble, “Give me a few minutes and I can show you how much I’ve missed you more.”
And I do, minutes later in the shower.
~~~~~~~~~~
In the Bentley, leaving a meeting at Drop It with Petey and Syn, I’m drained. The day has been long and the conversation I’ve just concluded hasn’t exactly lighten the heaviness of my shoulders. I still can’t believe Kid is gone. I’ve heard various renditions of the story, read the police report, viewed his dead body, attended his eulogy, even buried my G. And after that dismal process of finality, I still can’t perceive his death.
I’ve lost very few soldiers in the field during my reign. I never had a large executive circle, so every thing and person had been abstract, so to speak. Kid—he was family. Therefore, it’s only right to make sure Syn and their children are set up comfortably in his wake.
The dilemma in it is she needs to work, and between Petey and me, we could fit her in several places on our payrolls. Only, Syn had no occupational skills of value. She couldn’t even continue Kid’s carwash business because she had no knowledge of that trade. It was an emotional meeting at best. We all spoke ghostly from the shock of having to do this. Syn’s eyes were red and swollen, I presumed from profuse bouts of crying.
We were able to work out her coming to work at the recreation center in the LBC with my culinary staff. There is an entry level position there that I feel can be the start of a new vocation for her if she gains interest. My head cook has a teaching temperament and would love a captive student. I explained to Syn, by me doing this she has to agree to completely change her regard for Rayna. It wouldn’t matter if she weren’t my wife; Syn would not be allowed to disrespect her any further simply because she’s on my arm. Quite honestly, I’d been planning to confront her about this just before Kid’s passing, but the time never came. Then after she spazzed on Rayna at the repast I wanted to choke the shit out of her. She was fucking lucky out her ass that Rayna didn’t lose it on her. Syn has no clue of that side of Rayna. But I do. I’ve seen her black the hell out on several occasions.
When I presented her with that condition, she quickly accepted it then broke down crying. I was shocked when Syn admitted to antagonizing Rayna for no good reason at all. She was a blubbering mess as she poured her soul and cried her eyes out about being an alcoholic. My jaw dropped and Petey jumped to console her, sputtering attempted words of comfort. If it were under different circumstances, it would have been comical. After ironing out a few details, we parted ways.
I’m now on my way to dinner to celebrate Yazmine’s birthday. I had my assistant catch us reservations at DiFillipo’s. The place’s popularity has grown in spades over the past six months. The menu has vastly improved and the ambience rivals the impeccable wine selection. It’s been a long revamping process, but well worth it.