Chapter 3

Today, I woke up on the bathroom floor stark naked.

How I got there, what I went there to do, and why the hell I am naked remains a mystery.

It seems rather realistic to assume that I slipped and fell when I went to take a bath. Quite unlikely because I don't usually go under the showers at such an ungodly hour even if I am working with time for that day. But no matter how much I try to see it as less of a big deal, the idea that my body system is malfunctioning won't stop plaguing my thoughts; so since morning, I have been a little bit disconnected from reality.

I believe a normal human being sleeps and wakes up on a couch or bed. But I, Adelina Marrow, decided the best place to sleep is the cold floor of the bathroom. 

"You are gonna hurt yourself, Adelina!" an alarming shriek from Mom causes me to jump in fright.

My eyes snap toward the direction of her voice only to catch her dashing to me at full speed, eyes wide and aghast. 

Alarmed, my gaze quickly follows her line of vision only to fall on the steaming carafe in my hand as it hovers over my left palm which is placed next to a mug on the counter. 

"What is wrong with you?" she quickly snatches the carafe from me, "Are you trying to hurt yourself?"

"I-" I open my mouth only to close it again. I am too startled by what almost happened to make the machine work of my brain generate a coherent reply.

"Oh, my poor child?" The dramatic woman is on the verge of tears. She's a natural when it comes to adding cinematic touches to every normal happening. It's pretty normal watching her about to tear up. 

So annoying.

"I-i-m fine." I shove her hands away as soon as she tentatively cups my cheeks with them to examine me.

"Adeli-"

"-I said I'm fine! Gosh, you are too much!" 

The frustration and the stress all come together so intertwined, weighing down my psyche that I don't have time for her unnecessary display of motherly care.

"Take," indifferent about my outburst, she ends up helping me pour the brewed coffee into my mug and carefully hands it to me.

"Thanks," there's a subtle trace of remorse in my tone but I am not sure it's very obvious as I snatch the cup from her and hurry to my room.

Shutting the door behind me, I walk further in and place the mug on the study desk then head over to the window to open it so fresh air could filter in.

Taking the view in, I proceed to lean over the window ledge, my arms folding on it as I breathe in the fresh and crispy air.

I admire the aesthetic surrounding for a little while, a small smile sneaking its way to my lips, seeing people go about their daily lives.

Mr. Frankie, two blocks away, is doing his early morning jog around his house, and Mrs. Ferguson is still wetting her flowers when her grandson, Aaron, comes behind her and lays a gentle peck on her cheek, waving her goodbye as he jogs away to school.

I stare at Mrs. Ferguson the longest. There's something about her tending to those pretty flowers that just adds meaning to my day which always seems colorless. 

For me, life is so bleak and unenchanting.

Sighing, I lift my body off the window and walk back to the desk where my coffee sits, waiting. Whisking it carefully, I lift it to my lips and take a careful sip, savoring the taste a little longer than necessary.

Needing something to keep me occupied, I decided to sketch something; maybe milky ways, black holes, or planets. Those are always fun to sketch.

Rummaging through the drawer, I find my sketchpad, a pencil, and an eraser. Sinking into the cushioned straight-back chair, I begin to sketch nothing until it somehow morphs into something, well, someone rather. I always end up subconsciously sketching him.

I am putting the finishing touches to it, making sure I highlight all his significant facial features when my phone that's laying next to me begins to blare.

Peeking over the sketchpad, my gaze falls on the name displayed on the screen. I roll my eyes. I rang him up to ten times this morning but he didn't pick up. 

"I think I'm craving Paella," the first thing I hear on picking up the call is his morning voice; so husky and effortlessly sexy. 

"Um, okay," I am skeptical with my reply though, "And you are telling me for the sake of it or because I'm your new cook?"

"I want the paella you and I used to make," he confesses and I hear the static sound of his body shifting around on the bed, like a radio station that has failed to settle on a channel, "Just woke up and that's the only thing stuck in my head."

"Your point exactly?" I ask impatiently.

Today, I don't feel like doing anything or going anywhere. I am unusually drained so I am kind of inwardly praying he doesn't ask me to go over to his house.

"I feel like revisiting the past, you know," his tone is suggestive and I can almost see him biting down on his lower lip absentmindedly, "Sixteen-year-old us in your mother's kitchen making a mess in the name of cooking." He chuckles, pivoting me down the lane that leads to the memories of our yesteryears.

On Sundays like this one back then, his dad would probably be away on a business trip, leaving only him and Zade, Romeo's half-brother, alone in the house. Romeo needing an escape from his vile brother would come running to my house.

Mom would be taking a much-needed rest because that's the only time she has for herself, leaving him and me to fix a decent meal.

'I say we make paella, he would say like every other Sunday. 'Let's see if I'm better at it now, I'd roll my eyes and drag him into the kitchen. We'd spend hours and hours cooking the perfect meal and at the end of the day, we are eating half-burnt paella directly from the pan.

Memories.

"Have you checked your kitchen?" I ask, rising to my feet, my coffee in hand as I head to my wardrobe for a better outfit to wear, "Do you think we have enough ingredients for it?"

"What are the ingredients again?" 

"You know what?" I sigh, scratching my left eyebrow, "Just forget about it. I'll hit the grocery store on my way."

______________

"Are you okay?" I feel Romeo's hard chest press against my back, sensing the tentative touch of his lips on my shoulder, and the jolts of electricity almost cause the knife I am using to chop bell peppers to slide off my grip.

Of course, I don't feel too good. There's a slight ache in my chest and a gentle throb at the back of my head.

And I feel exhausted.

"I'm fine." I struggle out, pressing my lips together to stifle an embarrassing sound when his dick nudges against my ass. It's an innocent action but due to how thin the material of my sundress is, I feel everything a little bit too much.

"Are you sure?" His burning lips are brushing against my ear, and my body is reacting to his touch, making it hard for me to concentrate on what I am doing.

I hate how he's making me want him right now because I came here with a purpose and that's to cook. I can't help wondering if Paella is what he meant when he mentioned hunger or something else.

"Yes." I close my eyes, my head tilting back  when his lips trace phantom lines down my jawline to my collarbone, pausing for his hot mouth to suck on a sensitive spot, "Just fucking let me cook this food without your hands all over me, dammit!"

"Oh," he breathes huskily, like letting go was torture, "Sorry. I jus-" he pauses.

I turned around, my brow raised, "You just what?"

"Nothing." He shakes his head with a cheeky smile, his hand lifting to stroke my cheek, eyes peering into mine with lust, a plea for me to let him take what he wants.

And he wants me. It's written in the animalistic hunger dancing in his eyes and the bulge in his pants.

"I'm tired." I sigh, my back falling against the counter, "I just feel so drained for no reason."

"Do you want to leave it?" Worry comes to dance in his eyes as he tucks a strand of dark hair behind my ear, "We can do it another time."

"Nope," I dismiss quickly because I do enjoy cooking for him. I don't know why but it always gives me a fuzzy and warm feeling, "It's not hard to make anymore. I'll be done in an hour."

"How about I give you a massage later, hmm?" He raises a brow, suddenly caging me when he leans over, placing both hands on either side of the counter.

"A massage?" I am liking the sound of that but I don't show it. My eyes trail from his luscious lips that are dangerously close to mine, begging to be kissed, to his exposed, tanned chest that's covered in ink.

I want to run my hands over his bicep and feel his muscles flex at my gentle touch.

"I think you are stressed." He leans closer, placing a short kiss that still manages to leave me trembling, on my lips, "A good massage could help."

"Really?" My free hand traces the flower tattoo on his forearm, my tone seductive, "What type of massage?"

"Nuru…" His violet eyes have turned shades darker now, streaked with magic; dark, dirty, and beautiful magic. 

He takes his lower lip between his teeth, his finger stroking my nipple over the material of my skimpy dress and I am clenching my thighs together to ease the burn down there.

"...and," his hand goes under my dress, trailing up my thigh until it covers my clothed pussy, a dark gaze making me want to come just looking at him, "Genitalia."

All of a sudden, I want to do something that doesn't have anything to do with cooking some goddamn paella. So I surrender. Paella becomes history because, in the next few seconds, I am naked as the day I was born, just sexier and fuller.

"How do you just have essential oils stored up in your house?" I ask when he gently lowers my naked frame onto the bed that's covered with towels so oil wouldn't get into it.

His bare chest is hovering over me as he tries to adjust me to his satisfaction.

"Can't a man just decide to buy something he knows might just come in handy one day?" There's a devious smile tugging at his lips as he steps off the bed to dim the lights in the room. 

"I feel like cooking paella isn't the only reason you asked me to come here," I bite my lip nervously when his naked body returns to my line of vision;  a long, thick, veiny cöck dangling before him, making my mouth water.

"Really?" he raises a perfectly arched brow as he climbs back onto the bed.

He applies Jasmine oil into his palms, his dark eyes on me as he lowers his hands to my stretched leg and begins to massage it.

"Nuru and genitalia massage," I hint, "Of all the massages you could give it's the one we both have to be naked?"

"Oops, you caught me." He chuckles, the sound husky as his tongue darts out to lick his lower lip when his hungry eyes run over my naked body, sprawled before him.

"On your stomach, Mami." He suddenly commands, and the darkness dripping from it has heat pooling up between my legs again.

"Yes, sir." I grin, doing what he said.

I sigh, feeling my tensed muscles relax when his large hands continue to work on my legs, making their way up to my thigh, kneading it with devotion. 

"Addie," he hums, his tone adorned with dark desires as he moves up to my ass.

"Yes?" I almost whine when he grabs my ass cheeks, kneading them sensually, and at the same time, his thumb is stroking my wet pussy, causing me to ache for his touch a lot more than I should down there.

"Have I ever told you?" he moves upward, his finger pressing against my spine, working it up and down while electricity is charging through me like heroin shots and cracking under my veins.

"Told me what?" I sigh in satisfaction, feeling all the stress ebb away when he massages my neck and shoulder. 

"That you are my goddess?" he presses his lips on my spine.

"Yes."

"And that your body is mine?"

He whispers against my ear, biting the lobe and my breaths begin to come out as a struggle at the fire he builds up.

"Yes."

"And that I'll worship every inch of it with my lips," he flips me on my back gently, my eyes connecting with his hooded ones, "my tongue," he has my large breasts in his hands now and I shiver, stifling a moan when he begins to knead them with so much gentleness.

His oily hands glide down my stomach while his heated gaze remains on me, "And my cock?"

I nod because I don't think I can say anything without it being a shameless moan when he begins to stroke my inner thigh, before moving to massage my clit with his index and forefinger.

"Oh, god yes!" I moan loudly, my legs quaking in arousal as he continues to massage and stroke my clit, the fire in his eyes as he watches me melt into him making me high.

He heaves himself up, his cock throbbing against my opening, and I crave for him to slide in but he doesn't. 

He watches me thoughtfully before his finger traces the curve of my breast.

"Mami," he calls again and before I can reply, he has taken one of my swollen nipples into his hot mouth, the other being massaged and tweaked and tugged so much that I can barely keep out the moan that escapes my mouth as I almost fall apart.

He rolls me around in his mouth, his gaze still not leaving mine, his bulbous tip still throbbing against my pussy. 

"Fuck," I hiss when he bites my nipple but mewl when he soothes the burn by gliding his tongue over it.

His lips disconnect from my nipple to capture my own and I moan into the kiss because it feels like I haven't had a taste of him in a while.

One of my hands dives into his onyx hair, feeling the silkiness against my skin and pulling him closer enough to deepen the kiss. The other free hand glides down his hard chest, tongue wrapping around his as I ached for him to be closer to me, skin to skin.

I want him to overwhelm me. I need to drown in him.

He disconnects from the kiss, his plump and swollen lips kissing down my jawline to my shoulder, my chest to my stomach until he stops at the place I have been aching for his mouth to be all day long.

Strong hands locked under my knees, he props them up before pushing my legs apart to give him a full view of my cunt that's already dripping wet for him.

"Oh, fuck yes!" I moan shamelessly as his hot mouth covers me, slurping on my juices, sucking and biting before he begins to fuck me with his tongue.

I clench my eyes shut and another moan leaves my mouth when his fingers begin to play with my clit.

"Open your eyes, Addie," his voice is dark and commanding, "Watch me stretch your tight little pussy."

"S-top. D-on't stop!" I am uttering nonsense now, my hips shaking with pure pleasure as he thumps my clit around before pinching my sensitive nerve.

"Oh, Jesus Christ, Romeo." I cry out in bliss when he thrusts two fingers inside me, stretching me out and scissoring them until my knees shake.

"Oh, yes. Fuck right there!" I mewl, arching my back to grind my hips against his fingers. 

"It's been over a week," he says deviously, adding another finger as he drills me faster, "I bet you miss me inside you, hmm?" he growls huskily against my lips, fingers still inside me, and I open for him in reflex, sucking on his tongue, still tasting the white wine he took earlier.

"Answer me when I ask a damn question, Addie!" he smacks the side of my ass and I yelp, clenching against his fingers, dripping wet.

"Fuck, y-yes," I whimper, my hand clamping my breast, pressing them together. I am a mess, a slutty, shameless mess beneath him as he does my body the way it pleases him...and I love it. I love him dominating me. I get exhilarated and high when he treats me like the slut that I am. 

He trails wet kisses down my neck, his scent overwhelming me enough to make me feel like passing out.

I wrap my arms around him, moaning against his neck as he destroys me with his fingers. 

"Yes, Romeo, Yes!" I cry out, biting down on his shoulder when he goes deeper, his erect and throbbing cock brushing against my clit.

"So fucking tight," he groans, ramming his finger deeper when he finds my g-spot, "This pussy needs stretching." 

My body shakes while I cry out in pleasure, clawing at his chest as I desperately need something solid to hold onto, not that I will likely fall off the bed but I feel like I am seriously going to fall apart. 

His fingers begin to rotate inside me, shaking left and right, abusing my spot until I am a moaning mess, dripping my juices all over his hands and the poor bed.

He is looking at me with lidded eyes, as dark as sin, making me want to go to any length with him. Making me know how much he controls my body with just a simple touch.

There's a smile on his lips, not the soft and adoring one he usually reserves for only me, but the dark, dirty, and sinful one. Almost as if he enjoys watching me like this.

A horny and slutty mess.

I am dripping all over his hand but he doesn't look ready to stop as he continues to stretch my pussy. It's becoming too much for me and I am so close to the edge.

"Eyes on me, Addie!" he growls, his lips brushing against me when I snap my eyes shut, unable to take any more of his abuse, "You can't close those pretty eyes, not when you are coming all over my hand like this."

"Ahh!" I moan loudly, my head pitching back as a shiver runs down my spine, and I clench around his hand, burying my face into his sweaty, hard chest.

I already feel too much. And I don't know how much more I can take...and he hasn't even made it inside me yet.

He untangles my hands from around him, pinning them over my head before kissing his way down my stomach.

My legs shake when he kisses over my pussy lips, rolling his tongue inside and licking me like it's his favorite lollipop.

"You taste so good, Mami," he croons against it, sucking faster and I writhe, aching for more, needing more of him as my whole body burns from pleasure like no other.

"I-uh, my god fuck!" I can't even find it in me to make sense as he rolls his tongue further inside my needy cunt, drilling faster while rubbing my clit with the same rhythm.

"Are you tired, Addie?" He peeks over at me, his chin covered in my juices.

"No." I shake my head, panting.

"Good, 'cause I'm just getting started."