Page 9 of No Gemini Does it Better (BLP Signs of Love #2)

I couldn’t lie; my curiosity had been piqued.

Kareem’s grizzly voice had me wanting him on my body in the worst way.

I was seconds away from laying my inner critic to rest about fucking a stranger.

But under the circumstances, what else was there for two attractive people with a crackling chemistry to do? I mean, could you blame me?

The minute his hand connected with my throat, I moaned.

I was taken by surprise, but it was one I welcomed.

I quickly realized how desperate I was for someone else’s touch.

Anticipation and desire thickened the air as he leaned in, capturing my lips with a gentle mix of sensuality and brute force.

Kareem’s dark pink lips were soft and pillowy like clouds, delivering a fiery kiss that left me dizzy.

His tongue teased mine before delving inside, his fingers entwined in my braids.

Our tongues danced in a battle of dominance and submission as he traced patterns on my shoulder blades.

I whimpered softly as he grinded against me.

The feeling sent shivers down my spine with each gentle caress against my pussy through our clothes.

Pulling back slightly from my lips, he gazed into my eyes, filled with feelings I couldn’t decipher, before trailing hot kisses along my jawline and collarbone at an agonizing pace, ensuring I felt every sensation intensely.

When he finally took a step back, the feel of his fingertips lingered on my body after we parted.

I stationed my gaze on his smile. He had the sexiest one I’d probably ever seen, at least in a good while.

It was one of those celebrity smirks that could make a woman’s knees turn to water.

Being attractive was as natural to him as breathing.

Kareem ran the back of his hand down the side of my face, taking in the softness of my melanated skin against his fingertips. “You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he whispered.

My fingertips grazed over the coarseness of his beard while his strong hands raced down the arch of my back, reaching for my ass.

I knew I should’ve stopped him, but I couldn’t.

Desperation had a funny way of guiding you straight into the lion’s den.

His tatted hands cradled my waist as he set me on the kitchen counter.

Sinking deeper into the moment, I wrapped my arms around his neck and let my legs engulf his waist. It had been so long since I’d felt a connection with someone that I was ashamed to say I didn’t want the moment to end.

Kareem wasn’t just some menace lurking in the shadows, looking for a quick fuck.

No, he was the real deal. I could tell by the way he carried himself that he wasn’t your average nigga.

He was an experience, a force to be reckoned with.

A man who knew exactly what he was doing, and I was more than ready to find out.

I was hungry for Kareem, for the touch of those strong, tatted hands, for the lashing his tongue could give me, both physically and verbally.

He leaned closer into my space, his breath hot against my ear as he whispered, “I can give you real pleasure.”

My heart hammered in my chest as I listened, feeling the electricity that seemed to crackle between us.

His hand slipped between my thighs, fingers finding the heat and wetness there.

I was openly moaning to the sound of his voice right there on the kitchen counter, in front of a damn stranger.

It was reckless, scandalous, and utterly exhilarating.

“Then do it,” I dared, my voice barely above a whisper but loud enough for only him to hear. I wanted him, wanted everything he was offering and more.

He smirked as if he were a predator closing in on its prey. “You wanna be mine for the night?”

“Yes.”

The answer was a gasp torn from my throat as my body responded to the implicit threat and thrill in his tone.

“That means no questions, no hesitation, and no fuckin’ attitude.”

Kareem’s statement was firm, brooking no argument.

“Okay. Now show me,” I urged, my entire being screaming for the release only he seemed capable of giving.

“Don’t worry, I will,” Kareem murmured, his agreement sending a jolt of pride through me. “Let’s see if you can handle what I’m about to do to you.”

It was weird, the satisfaction I took from his words, but in the moment, something deep within me basked in it.

“Please,” I begged, throwing caution to the wind.

“Patience, shawty,” he chided softly, a devilish gleam in his brown orbs. “We ain’t got nothin’ but time, and I plan to savor every moment.”

And with those words, any semblance of control I thought I had, evaporated. I was at the mercy of this man, this force of nature, and I couldn’t have been more ready. Until the storm ceased, I was under his command, and I couldn’t wait to surrender.

He placed me back on the linoleum kitchen floor, and I stood, my legs trembling not from fear but from the sheer rush of adrenaline and lust that pulsed through me.

Kareem’s iron grip led me into the living room, where shadows played in the candlelight, flickering against the walls with an intimate dance as the nighttime started to take over.

“Take off your clothes,” he commanded, and I complied without hesitation, shedding the minimal layers of clothing—the biker shorts, tank top, and panties—baring more than just my skin. I was naked in every sense, stripped of inhibitions, ready for whatever he had planned.

His eyes never left mine as I stood near the couch, vulnerable and exposed. He approached, his movements precise and measured.

“Look at that pretty ass pussy.” Kareem’s voice came out of nowhere, a low rumble that made my insides quiver. “I’m going to enjoy taking you apart piece by piece.”

His words were a growl as his eyes locked onto mine, dark and full of promises as he circled the couch like a predator assessing his prey. I felt my own heat, the slickness between my thighs from how much I craved him.

As if I needed more encouragement, he pushed the waistband of the sweatpants down, revealing a hard dick that was long and thick.

Maybe too damn thick. The nigga had me ready to nickname him Arby’s because he absolutely had the meat.

I should’ve felt shame at being caught staring, but instead, I felt invigorated.

The wind whistled outside as his boxers and sweatpants hit the floor.

He stood there, a vision of melanated masculine beauty bathed in the candlelight, wearing nothing to hide the power of his physique.

He reached out, his hands skimming over my bare skin, sending shivers down my spine.

His hands gripped my hips, pulling me closer to the couch so he could lay me down.

Kareem’s touch was clinical yet electric, leaving a trail of heat wherever his fingers brushed against my skin. When his touch descended to cup the curve of my ass, I held my breath, waiting for what was to come next.

“Spread your legs,” he instructed, his voice firm.

I obeyed without hesitation, the sound of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.

“Wider,” he said before plunging two fingers inside me, deliberate and deep.

I purred with pleasure. “Ooh, shit.”

“Mm, shit. That pussy is tight and so wet for me,” Kareem murmured with an edge of satisfaction in his tone.

The sensation sent a flush of pride coursing through me. I squirmed underneath his weight just as his fingers withdrew, leaving me empty and desperate. Then, all of a sudden, he stepped away.

“Please don’t stop.” The words tumbled out, no longer able to contain the plea.

I needed him to take me, to obliterate every thought with raw, animalistic need. And I would do anything to feel him move inside me.

“Not yet,” he said, though his breath hitched, betraying his control. “I’ll give you what you need, Sawyer, but on my terms.”

I sat up on my elbows, only to see his back to me as he went down the hallway to my bedroom.

I huffed. The wait was excruciating. I was ready for him to break my back—to punish it, to put me through the fucking couch.

Alone, wet, and ready, my thoughts raced with the possibilities of pleasure that awaited.

I kept my eyes fixed on the shadows against the walls, cast by the flickering candles, creating a sultry ambiance that matched the passion inside me.

Every second was agony, every touch a promise.

I was laid bare, body and soul, for this man who commanded my senses with nothing more than a look, a touch, and a few slick ass words.

And when he finally decided to end the torturous wait, I knew it would be worth every moment of sweet, unbearable anticipation.

“Thought I’d left you?” Kareem’s voice was low, teasing, as he sauntered closer.

“Crossed my mind,” I admitted, my voice a mix of annoyance and relief.

“Never. You’re too damn bad to leave hanging.”

“Then stop talking and . . .” I started, but his hand clamped over my mouth, silencing me.

“You said you masturbate, right?” he commented, holding my rose vibrator in his hand. “Let me see you play with it.”

“That’s what you left to go get?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“I thought you said you weren’t sniffing my panties.”

“Why sniff panties when I can have the real thing?”

Kareem handed me the vibrator before his hands skated down my bare chest, gently caressing my breasts.

I felt my nipples harden like diamonds to his touch.

He leaned forward, flicking his tongue across it.

The roughness of his beard scraping against my soft skin hurt yet felt right.

I arched my back as he made sure to give each nipple some one-on-one time.

He crouched in front of me and pulled me onto his face. “Turn the toy on and put it on your clit.”

I followed his direction and bucked forward as soon as I felt the dual vibration pattern and sucking sensation against my clit as he peppered kisses between my thighs. “Ooh, shit.”