Page 34 of Not My Type (Not My Type #1)

“Come yer,” he bites his lip, pulls me in, flips me over, rolls off the bed, pins my arms behind and stands at the edge of the bed while stroking his length with his eyes locked in mine.

“Open your legs,” he demands. I obey, shifting closer.

One leg dangles off the bed, the other bent.

I arch my back, lifting my ass. He steps between my legs, grips my lower back, his fingers sinking into my side.

I bite my lip, feeling the pulse. I rock against him—slow at first, then faster.

I know what I’m doing. I know what I like.

But with him, it feels different—intense.

Like he’s pulling something out of me I didn’t know was there.

“Jah Jah... the view,” he mutters, his fingers find my clit, circling slow. My brows pull together, my breath stutters.

He slides his fingers in, and my walls clench around them. I bite my lip, fighting the moan crawling up my throat. I slap a hand over my mouth. “We nuh deh in a house alone, so nuh bother loud up di ting,” he rasps.

I gape as he curls his fingers. Then with a smile, I put my index in my mouth squirming as his long fingers move expertly in me.

“Zara,” his voice breathy. “Mi naav’ no condom.”

I pause, thinking it through. I’m on pills. I missed it this morning. I took one yesterday, though. I should be fine. Right? “Can I trust you?”

“Yah. Mi clean,” his voice genuine. “Mi do a checkup every two weeks. Can ring mi doc—”

“Shhh... I get it,” I look down. “Have fun in it,” It comes out low and sultry.

“That, I will do,” he runs the head of it against me. “Watch,” he demands, his voice low as he positions himself at my entrance.

I prop myself up on my elbow looking over my shoulder. The closeness, the tension, his thumb rubbing my slit—it feels intense, so close to something I’ve been wanting. Then he enters. I dig my fingers into the sheets.

“Aaahh,” I moan and we laugh.

“D’even fully in there yet,” he brags. He didn’t lie, with another thrust I feel him impossibly deep inside me.

“You want dem hear yuh?” his deep voice asks when I let out a moan.

“I forgot,” I whisper then my focus shifts to him stroking me gently. My face flushes, hoping that Zanne and her husband didn’t hear that.

He’s so bigggggg. I feel full, I hold back my screams. He gets two long strokes in and stops in me... in disbelief? Five seconds pass and he’s still staring.

“Wh—” he cuts me off with a short stroke, and chuckles, eyes low.

“This feel too good fi condom.”

“Says who—” I cover my mouth. He hovers me, hands next to my face as he slams in me so hard my body jerks.

It’s ironic how he wants me to hold back my moans when he’s going this hard.

He flips me over. “Jah Jah... Zara, mi affi look inna yuh eyes,” I grab his shoulder, squeezing my thighs around him, ankles crossed in the air, mouth fall open, silent moans spilling out.

His slow thrusts drive deeper, and deeper, and deeper, he doesn’t want to stop, his tattooed arms flexing with every move.

The pressure builds inside me, I’m on the edge but, I hold back, craving more, wanting it to last. I dig my nails down his back.

For a man, his skin is really soft, he’s rough though.

I’ve never experienced anything like it.

I turn my head, not wanting him to see me ugly crying.

He realizes and buries his face in my neck, sucking on my skin gently.

His lips move over and connect with mine.

I hold his face, moaning against his lips as he whines in me.

“Mi a hurt yuh? Yuh wah mi stop?” Awww, the concern in his voice.

“No.” I hug the back of his head, feeling his long plaits. “Mi nuh wah yuh stoppp—” I’m cut off by my own moans.

“Ahhhhhhhh shit–” his hand covers my mouth.

I throw a leg up, fingers curling behind my knees. He lies between and pounds in me. My breasts shake at the rhythm of his thrusts. I squirm, struggling to remain silent. A few slip out. My head hits the headboard.

“Just cover your mouth,” he slams in me, over and over and over, then he pulls out, not too far out, not too far in, rolling his hips and I lost it, the moan that slips through my throat is extremely loud.

“Ughhhhhhhh NickOiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” My legs shaking, spraying out my juices on the bed. The bed soaking as it continues to flow. Shit...

It’s that good huh?

He gets off the bed, searching the closet, then he picks up his phone, typing a message. Seconds after, the door knocks, he chuckles, barely holding it in, hiding behind the door as he peeks out at Junior.

“Mi a beg you a sheet,” he’s trying to sound casual, but the grin on his face gives it away.

“A wah’m dawg?” Junior’s voice just as low.

“The room cold, mi want a sheet,” he lies, but Junior isn’t having it.

“Yuh mean, yuh wah change the sheet?”

Nickoi chuckles. “Bredda just do the crime nuh,” Junior finally moves, and returns with it.

Nickoi shuts the door as soon as he gets it. I climb off the bed, barely feeling my legs. “Oye mi nuh done wid yuh yet enuh, this a fi sleep.”

He places the sheet on the chair, then scoops me up and throw me against the door, I hug his neck, as he bounces me up.

“Ahhh... Nickoi,” I whine, my eyes barely open as they stare into his lustful ones.

“Hmm?” he pants.

“Faster pleas—” another moan leaves my lips. This one comes with a profanity, surprising him.

“S’pose mi tell Ms. Sandra?” he jokes.

I laugh and another moan escapes my lips. “Oh–Nickoi you ughhh oh yeah.” I feel like I’m going crazy when he starts throwing me up faster, as if I’m light work to him.

I can feel a strong pressure building up in me. I don’t want him to stop. I wish I could feel this forever And ever. And ever. “Ahh, just like that,” I moan, my eyes closed, lost in the sensation.

“Know you would be good, but never expected this,” Nickoi mutters, more to himself than to me. Butterflies flutter in my stomach at his words. I whimper, feeling like a fire has been ignited in my veins.

“Shittt,” I clench around him. How is he so good? Why do these strokes feel so addicting? “Ughhh! Oh my God,” I breathe out in disbelief. Whatever he’s doing I love it. “Nickoi... yah guh kill me?” I sink my finger in his shoulder.

“In this case yes,” he pants, slamming me down. He stops the pattern that I fell in love with, throwing me up slow, but rough. My breasts jerk each time. He’s handling me like I don’t weigh exactly 130 Ibs. No sign of struggle in sight.

“Don’t stop what you were doing please,” I plead. He smiles but doesn’t do what I ask. “Nickoi please nuh,” I beg. He starts again, and I close my eyes, savoring the way he drags along my walls.

“Yess,” I moan. I’m squirming, and he scoots down lying me flat on the cold tiles, he didn’t stop for once.

He swiftly pulls a pillow from the bed, sliding it beneath my head. “Take it... like a G,” he teases, eyes emotionless.

He bites his lip and closes his eyes just before burying his face in my neck again. I gently bite his shoulder. I can’t find the right words to describe this feeling. No wonder he has so many girls. This is what they’re all getting? I can’t let him go.

He flips us over, slamming into me so hard I see stars. My face buries in the pillow, muffling my moans. Nickoi grips my waist, hitting my sweet spot, making me shiver.

“I’m close, Nic–”

He covers my mouth, silencing me, still it slips out. “NickkOiiiiiii!” I moan shakily. I don’t hear it. My toes curl and my eyes roll to the back of my head.

He curses loudly. The guttural sound of the words flips a switch in me, and I find myself releasing all over him.

He groans, collapsing on top of me, sweat dripping down his face.

We’re both glistening, breath heavy in the air.

I lick my lips, struggling to catch my breath, then he speaks, breathing hard.

“A lady in the streets, and a freak in the sheets fi real.” he smirks, impressed. I smile back.

“Doh Ms. Williams?” he teases purposely using my surname to refer to my profession. I blush. “Can’t find the words enuh Zara... ” he pants then he pulls me closer, closing the space between our naked bodies.

“Just kno’ yuh nah lef yasso. Yuh stuck with man fi life. ”