ANS-Episode Nine


Pancakes for Breakfast, Sex for Lunch

They melted off. It was a phenomenon but her clothes just melted off. It was his superpower. His silky, sugar sweet lips played with her skin and before Safiya knew it her top was off; then her jeans followed. With every kiss she needed him more, wrapping her legs around his waist a little tighter. He was cocaine and she was his fiend, hanging on his every word, yearning his firm touch. His electricity surged through her body and warmed between her thighs and her mind was gone, lost. Lost in him. Why did she come there? She closed her eyes gripping the sheets moaning lowly as he grazed his kryptonite lips along her neck. Why was she in room 174, room 174 with its eager bed and sex dripping from the walls? Room 174, where he took her to ecstasy the first time and apparently not the last.

Safiya still didn’t remember how she got there that first time. She was at Pulse with Lela, Trevor, and Cairo dancing the Fourth of July away and when she opened her eyes they were gone. But there were these strong hands gripping her rolling hips and a hard body grinding against hers in the dim light. The music pulsated through their bodies as his chocolate voice whispered, “Come with me.” His hands slide over her body draining her of all willpower. She took his hand and followed willingly. Room 174 waited.

Their bodies danced at the only rhythm they knew, slow and smooth. “We shouldn’t be doing this.” She murmured gripping his lustrous salt and pepper hair.

“What should we me doing?” His voice warmed against her pleading skin. Begging for more; touch me there, right there.

“Talk.” She bit her bottom lip as her body throbbed. “We should be talking.”

His lust drunk silver eyes bore into hers, hypnotizing her under his control and submission, “We are.” He buried deeper into her wonderland. Deeper, longer, stronger; she hooked her ankles together holding on tight, enjoying his rollercoaster.

One last time, all she needed was one last time. One last time, feeling his lips against hers. One last time, feeling his vanilla-scented, olive-tinted skin against hers. One last time, feeling his body grinding into hers. That was all she needed, ride his ride, feel his thrill and reach her burst of explosion then she could do it. Her body shook, a scream escaped from her throat and the haze drifted from her mind, “I’m pregnant.”



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