Sexual Healing (30 page)

Thirty-Two

T
his shit felt too good to be true. . . .

But he hadn't felt this happy—
this
relaxed, in years. Not since Ramona.

Fucking Ramona.

No matter what he did, somehow she always managed to find a way to creep up in his thoughts. She was poison. And he wasn't about to allow his infected thoughts of her to snatch what semblance of joy he was feeling.

He couldn't compare what he felt
now
to back
then
.

Yeah, Ramona had been his first love, and she'd been his first taste of heartache, too. Hell, she'd been his
first
everything.

But he had been a lil'-ass kid then. Now, he was a grown-ass man. He was more than a hard, horny dick. He knew more. Had grown more experienced with women. And he knew when a broad was playing him, or trying to catch a come-up.

That wasn't Arabia. Fuck no. She was different.

She was her own woman. And, yet, she knew how to play her position and let him be the man. Her man. Well, that wasn't what she called him.

But it was definitely moving in that direction.

Cruze smiled inside. Yeah, that's right.
Her man.
Though he hadn't officially come out and called her his girl. He'd been toying with the idea.

She was definitely
wifey
material.

She was more than he imagined she'd be. Yeah, she used her femininity to seduce him. But she'd somehow—with her sass and brash—found a way to pull him from out his shell. Darkness whirled around him, and, yet, she'd unknowingly become a bright light in his somewhat gloomy existence.

No, Cruze hadn't expected things between them to heat up the way they had, but they had. And, hell, he wasn't complaining. Things between them were popping hot and heavy. And they were quickly becoming an item. No lie. He was feeling her, hard. And he knew she was feeling him too.

Still, he didn't quite know what to do with these new feelings. He didn't know when it'd happened, when something inside of him shifted. But he was addicted to her. He craved every smooth, silky inch of her. However, he didn't want to play himself. So he held back. He held back from freely giving into the pleasure. He fought the urge to let go and simply go with the flow.

All he'd ever known was pain.

And loss.

And disappointment.

So this, this was foreign to him.

And, yet, he didn't want anything to ruin it. Happiness was always short-lived for a muhfucka like him. And . . . and he didn't know what he'd do if he lost this, this feeling.

He tried not to overthink it. Tried to stay in the present. Hell, that's where he wanted to be—in the moment . . . with
her
.

So he shook the ominous thought of something this good being a sign that something bad would soon follow from out of his mind.

His cell phone rang. It was Ramona. He shook his head. And Arabia eyed him from the corner of her eye as he frowned at the screen. Any other time he would answer on the spot. Drop what
ever he was doing for her. Not today. He sent the call to voicemail—surprising himself, then shutting off his phone.

He'd get at her later. Right at this very moment, his priority was sitting next to him. He was trying to chill with Arabia's fine ass with no interruptions.

Usher's “Can U Handle It” seeped out though the speakers, and he leaned his head back on the headrest as Arabia drove.

He inhaled.

Shit, it felt good to be chauffeured for a change.

She'd surprised him—and herself—when she'd called him and said she wanted to take
him
out. On a date. He couldn't help but smile. No female had ever offered to take him anywhere except to bed.

So when she pulled up to his crib in her Aston Martin, and kissed him lightly on the lips when he slid into the passenger seat, Cruze knew then . . . she was the
one
.

He still hadn't
kissed
her; not in the way two lovers would. But he'd come a long way with a peck on the lips. And Arabia seemed okay with that.

She didn't pressure him. Didn't try to take more than he was willing to give. And it hadn't gone unnoticed, or unappreciated.

He stole a glimpse at her through the corner of his eye.

Damn, my baby looks good driving this whip; her sexy ass.

She licked her lips as she maneuvered through the city traffic with ease, and he felt his dick stirring in his boxers. He opened and closed his legs, pressing them tightly together, then opening them wide again. He clasped his hands in his lap, and pressed down on the building pressure in his dick, fanning his legs.

Shit.

He wondered if she even knew the type of effect she had on him. How aroused she made him. She made him come undone every time he was around her.

Feeling Cruze eyeing her, she glanced over, and smiled.

He turned his head to her, his eyes coming to rest on her, and smiled back. And there went those dimples that she'd grown to love. She felt her heart flutter and her cunt clench, as his eyes grew dark and unexpectedly liquid as he looked at her.

Heat swooped around the cabin of the car, making her hot, wet.

God, what was happening to her?

The sight of him made her sizzle with desire.

She stayed wet for
him
.

Stayed hot for
him
.

Stayed ready for
him
.

Lord, help her. She wasn't
in love
. But she was beyond lusting him. She couldn't recall when it'd happened. When she became so, so, open to him.

But it had happened.

And he was slowly becoming the air she needed to breathe. Yes, the woman was wild for him. He made her hungry. Oh how she wished there was a way she could put her car on cruise control and lean over and suck his dick. She'd suck his balls dry right now in broad daylight in all this weekend traffic. She wanted to feel his warm nut coating her tongue and sliding down the back of her throat.

She swallowed back the greedy need that pooled in her mouth, and shifted in her seat.

Cruze made her dizzy. She hated admitting it. But she was obsessed. Bewildered. She wanted him—not just his body, his lips, his dick—but every part of him. He was so dark, so brooding, so badass, but beneath the mask, she saw glimpses of a compassionate, kind-hearted, passionate man.

And she yearned for him to bare his soul to her. She wanted him to unleash his burdens, to let her into the dark spaces of his heart and mind.

And that—those desires—frightened her.

Yet, he managed to make her smile. Managed to make her heart dance to the beat of something exciting. Made her think of possibilities that she'd never given thought to.

“Yo, you good?” Cruze asked in that deep, panty-wetting voice that made her shiver with want, snatching her from her thoughts as he reached over and gently squeezed her thigh.

Arabia looked over at him, every nerve ending in her body aflame with want. Her gaze caught the side of his thick neck. She swallowed. She wanted to lean over and suck on his Adam's apple. Instead, she nodded and said, “I'm more than good. I'm great.”

Cruze's brown orbs darkened, and his lips shaped a coaxing smile. “Me, too, babe.”

Babe.

He called her
babe
—the word sliding from his lips like warm honey, and Arabia felt her stomach heat.

It was a first—him calling her that. And she liked it. She liked it a lot. And his smile—God how she loved it when he smiled. It always felt sensual. Inviting. Even if it wasn't meant to be.

“You should do more of that,” she said.

His brow raised, his eyes lighting with interest. “Do more of what?”

“Smile.”

“Oh yeah?”

Arabia nodded. “Yeah.”

“Why you say that?”

Arabia glanced at him and shrugged. “You always seem so deep in thought. I don't know. Distracted.” She turned back to the road. “You have a beautiful smile, Cruze,” she said huskily. “When you smile, you make me want to smile too.”

His eyes went liquid again. And then his lips tipped upward, and those dimples flashed. “Maybe I have a reason,
now
, to smile more,”
he said earnestly, reaching over and running the back of his long, thick fingers down her cheek.

Arabia's skin heated and she blushed, glancing over at him again.

“I dig you,” he said. “A lot.”

“Me, too,” she said, then smiled. God, why did this man make her spine tingle at the mere sight of him looking at her?

She turned back to the road, exhaling. He was more than she expected, more than she could have ever hoped he'd be. She wasn't sure where things were headed with them, but somehow she found herself dreaming of more, hoping for more.

Jason Derulo's “Kama Sutra” started playing and Arabia found herself bobbing her head to the beat with thoughts of tying Cruze up. The thought made her pussy heat.

She pressed a button on the stereo to lower the volume, then asked, “Would you let me tie you up?”

Cruze looked at her, barely managing to stifle the frown forming. “Tie me up, as in using a rope to tie me down?”

Her breath hitched at the imagery of him being stretched out naked, his arms and feet tethered to the bedposts. “Yes. Well, no. I'd use silk scarves.”

He blinked. Then shook his head, but he was grinning.
“Helllll
no.” He laughed. “Yo, you wilding. I ain't with that bondage shit.”

“Well, would you let me blindfold you?”

What the fuck?
She stayed trying to do the most.
Kinky-ass
. Cruze shook his head. “Nah. I'm good on that, too.”

Arabia laughed. “What, you scared?”

“Never that, baby. But why you tryna tie a muhfucka up, anyway?”

Arabia looked over at him. “Maybe I want you naked and vulnerable.”

Cruze shifted in his seat. “Yeah, a'ight. How 'bout I tie you up?”

Arabia moaned.
“Mmm.
Yes. Tie me up, daddy,” she teased.

Cruze's dick thumped in his lap. He laughed, shaking his head. “Yo, you wild.”

Again she looked at him, her eyes dark and hungry.
“You
make me wild, Cruze.”

He swallowed, feeling his body heat from the inside out. He smiled again, his heart warming.

A few moments later, Cruze noticed they were on I-76 heading west. “Yo, hold up. Where we going?” he asked.

Arabia grinned. “It's a surprise.”

Cruze shook his head. “Yeah, a'ight. Surprise me by telling me the
surprise
.”

She laughed. “Then it wouldn't be a surprise, silly. Now sit back and relax.”

Several moments later, she veered off on exit 342, then followed the signs toward her destination. When she'd called him to take him out, she'd decided she wanted to do something she hadn't done in years. Be silly, and have fun.

“I'm taking you to meet my relatives,” she offered, holding back a snicker.

Eyebrow raised, Cruze eyed her suspiciously. “Your relatives? You have family out here?”

“Yes,” she said, turning onto West Girard.

When Arabia finally turned into the entrance for the Philadelphia Zoo, Cruze gave her a confused look. “I thought you said we were meeting your peoples?”

“We are,” she said calmly. “They're here on exhibit.”

“On exhibit?” he questioned. “What, they performing
here
or something?”

“No, they're not performing.” Arabia parked the car, then looked at him. “We're here to see my cousins. The spider monkeys.”

Cruze burst out laughing.

Thirty-Three

C
ruze was a habitual early riser, always waking up the same time every morning. 4:30 a.m. Most times, he'd awake earlier due to the nightmares that often plagued him, finding their way into the crevices of his mind, snatching him from any hopes of sleeping through the night. But last night, he'd slept peacefully, waking to the gentle caress of the sun streaming through his bedroom.

Instinctively, he reached for the space beside him, wanting to feel her heated skin beneath his fingertips. She'd stayed the night. A first. And he wanted to pull her into his body, and wrap her into his embrace.

But there was no Arabia.

He listened for any sound of movement—there was none. It was eerily silent. And empty. He frowned, coming more awake as he rose up on his elbow and stared at the indented pillow, then the empty spot where she'd lain beside him, her soft body curled into his side.

His chest tightened and he blinked, open to the possibility that she might have left. But . . . why would she?

Because . . .

He shook his head. Hadn't they fucked each other breathless through the night? Hadn't he given her a side of him he hadn't given any other female? Yeah, he did. So where the fuck had she
gone? He didn't want to think the worst; still he cursed under his breath, feeling those old wounds of abandonment peeling open again. Maybe he shouldn't have asked her to stay the night, then he wouldn't be feeling like he'd just been punched in the gut.

He bit back another curse. He didn't want to admit that not waking up to her still in his bed had crushed him, making it almost impossible to breathe. He glanced around the room and clenched his fists. The fucking bitch didn't even have the decency to leave “a thanks for the good fuck” note.

Pissed, he yanked back the covers and threw his legs over the edge of the bed just as she came sauntering back in the room carrying a wooden tray with a bowl of fresh fruit and melted dark chocolate. Shit. Now he felt like a stupid-fuck for calling her out her name and for thinking the worst of her.

Damn. He was really bugging. Hard.

Still, he sighed inwardly, surprisingly relieved that she hadn't left. Him.

“Good morning,” she greeted, a smile easing over her lush mouth.

“Mornin',” he said, leaning back on his elbow. “I thought you left,” he admitted.

“Oh, no. You're not getting rid of me that easy,” she said pointedly as she approached the bed. “You have me all to yourself,
allll
morning.” She set the tray down on the bed, then tilted her head. “That's if you
want
me.”

Hell yeah, he wanted her. His dark eyes swept over her body, from head to toe and back again, coming to rest on her swelling breasts, her thick nipples. Instantly, he felt himself becoming aroused. She was wet and ready, aching between her legs, her clit pulsing, and Cruze could sense her hunger for him as she could his for her. He was hard, now, at the sight of her, his dick bouncing up and down as his gaze caressed her body.

No woman had ever had this type of effect on him, his body. Not even Ramona. Shit. He had to stop this. Comparing
this
, to that—
her
.

She walked over toward his stereo, then turned on the CD player, her thick, juicy ass on display. Cruze eased back in bed, his stomach suddenly rumbling for more than mere food.

Seconds later, Jon Schuyler's “Space” started playing as she made her way back to the bed. “Hungry?” she asked huskily, innuendo thickly laced in her question.

She shot him a cheeky grin at her double entendre, and Cruze let out an audible sigh, the look in his eyes ravenous. “What you feeding me,” he rasped, his heavy-lidded gaze heating over her skin.

“Something sweet,” she answered back, her tone teasingly sensual.

She flicked her tongue at him, and Cruze groaned. Shit. She'd quickly become his dirty little plaything. His, and his alone, and that knowing sent him reeling over the edge. She hadn't even touched him yet, and he was ready to bust, pre-cum drizzling out of his dick.

Arabia licked her lips. Mmm, the sight of his beautiful erection made her want to flick her tongue over his dick and lick at his tip, then wetly slide her lips vigorously up and down his thick length. The walls of her cunt contracted with want, making her pussy surge with warm juices. Oh, God, yes. She wanted him bad.

Only him. And this, this was a startling revelation. She'd never wanted anyone as bad as she wanted him, now . . . and in the future, in
her
future. God. She never imagined ever thinking that, that she could see a future—a real one—with anyone.

Arabia looked at him—and it reminded her of how damn ruggedly beautiful he was, the sensation rippling through her soul, shocking her to her core.

Things between them were happening so fast that she hadn't
had a chance to fully comprehend, to completely absorb, the fact that she was becoming tangled up in him. And she hoped like hell she wasn't in this alone. The thought of giving herself wholly to a man—to
him
—frightened and, somehow, excited her.

She climbed up on the bed. Then instructed Cruze to rise to his knees. He gave her a questioning look, and she smiled lazily at him. “Trust me. Please.”

He smirked. “Yeah, a'ight. Don't be trying to tie me up in here.”

Arabia laughed, pulling him by the hand. “Dreams do come true, don't they?”

“Not today, they don't,” Cruze shot back, a smile forming his lips. And with little prodding, he finally acquiesced. Then they were both on their knees in the center of the bed, facing each other—the breakfast tray and his protruding sex the only things between them.

She smiled, and then he smiled again.

“What you 'bout to do?” he asked huskily.

“Feed you,” Arabia said seductively, just above a whisper.

Cruze flushed, then pulled in his bottom lip. “Oh, word?”

She nodded slowly as she dipped two fingers into the bowl of melted chocolate, swirling them until her digits were coated.

“And then what you gonna do?” Cruze probed, eyeing her. His stare piercing her so hotly that it set her cunt ablaze, made her clit ache.

“You'll have to wait and see,” she said teasingly, trying desperately not to touch herself. “Just know. It might get messy.”

“Maybe I want it messy,” he teased back.

Heat flashed in her eyes as she coaxed him to open his mouth and pulled her hand from the bowl of warm chocolate, before sliding her silky soft fingers in. Cruze's mouth closed over her fingers, and he sucked; his tongue laving her sweet fingers, then sucking
them again until her fingers were clean. Arabia's pussy clenched.

She moaned. “Mmm. You like that?”

Cruze licked his lips. “Yeah. I love that shit.”

She scooped a finger back into the chocolate, then slowly swirled it over her right nipple. She scooped again, then coated her left nipple.

Cruze groaned, and Arabia smiled naughtily. “Eat me,” she said, cupping her breasts as an offering.

“Damn,” he muttered, his dick bobbing viciously, his balls tightening, swelling. He grabbed his dick, shook it, then stroked it. Arabia freed her breasts from her hands and reached beneath him and squeezed his balls.

“No. Let go. I'll take care of that.”

“Fuck,” he hissed. “When? I wanna fuck.”

“Soon enough,” she whispered. “Now eat.”

He eyed her, smiling indulgently at her. Then lowered his head and flicked his tongue over her rigid chocolate-coated peak. Arabia let out a whimper, her head lolling back as he tongued her nipple until it became more rigid, more sensitive, aching and tight. Then he turned and gave the other nipple equal attention, his tongue swirling over the tip, then suckling it into his mouth.

Surprisingly, he took his time, his tongue moving unhurriedly over each nipple. Arabia let out what sounded like a purr, reaching for more melted chocolate, then grabbing his cock and coating its shaft until it was covered in chocolate, making his dick darker, sweeter, more mouthwatering.

Cruze moaned. “Yeah, baby. Stroke that dick.” He caressed her breasts, then alternated between flicking his thumbs over each nipple or pinching them, intensifying her lust. And then he cupped her breasts and brought them together, moving his mouth back and forth from one nipple to the other until he sucked them clean.
He sucked them gently at first, and then harder with wet rhythmic pulls that made the room spin and had her seeing stars.

Arabia's nectar dripped from her slit and slowly slid down her inner thighs. She slid a peach slowly over Cruze's lips, then into his mouth. He grinned, his dick stretching as she stroked him, and the sweet fruit dissolved on his tongue, causing him to groan.

She leaned in and flicked her tongue over his lips, then sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, savoring the sweetness of his lips.

A fire blazed in his eyes, and Arabia knew she was bringing him a new kind of pleasure. One she hoped he'd never forget.

She plunked a strawberry into his mouth. Staring right into his eyes, she watched him chew, then swallow. And the heat in her gaze notched up, causing his body to light up. His desire for her was roiling out of control, like a wild brushfire.

Bryson Tiller's “Exchange” seeped through the speakers.

“Why you fucking with me?” Cruze murmured.

“What, what am I doing?” she asked coyly.

He cast his gaze down at the enormous, turgid erection in her hand slathered in chocolate, then looked back up at her, deeply in her eyes. “Yeah, a'ight. You know what you doing.”

Her eyes flickered, and an unexpected heat singed his senses. He saw something in her eyes at that very moment—the way she looked at him, the way no other woman had ever looked at him. And it suddenly overwhelmed him. Cruze felt wanted. Arabia wanted him. And he
felt
it. Or had he imagined it.

Nah. He saw what he saw. He kept his gaze locked on hers. And there was that flicker again, of heat, of lust, of . . .
want
.

He swallowed. God, she was breaking him. Brick by brick, she was slowly uncovering a layer of him. And he didn't know what to make of it.

Arabia reached for another strawberry with her free hand and
swirled it into the chocolate. She brought it to Cruze's lips, and he bit into it, its juices splashing out and trickling down his chin. She licked her lips, then leaned forward and licked his chin, then gently sucked it into her mouth, before licking down his neck, then over his shoulder, then trailing her tongue along the center of his chest. She pinched his nipples unexpectedly and he shuddered, emitting an animalistic growl that vibrated through his body.

“Shit, baby.
Fuck
.”

He wanted inside her. Now. So he reached for her pussy and cupped her there. His thumb sliding over her clit, before his fingers found her puffy cunt lips, slick and hot.

And there they were, heavy-lidded gazes locked on each other, stroking each other, teasing each other. Arabia moaned. He moaned.

He grunted. She grunted.

Arabia slowly twisted her hips and moved her pelvis, sucking a shuddering breath between her teeth. Cruze's finger slipped between her folds and she choked back a sob of pleasure, her sticky fingers cupping his balls, while her other hand rapidly stroked the length of him.

“Aaah, shit, yeah,” he murmured. “You gonna make me nut.”

“Mmm, yes,” she breathed out. “Give it to me, daddy. Mmm. I want you to nut all over my hand.” She reached for more chocolate and swirled her hand over and around the head of his dick. Cruze's body jerked. He thrust his hips, matching her strokes.

“C'mon, let me get some pussy.”

“No,” she whispered, her gaze burning into his. “Not yet.”

Cruze hissed, cursed beneath his breath. He didn't know how much more of this sweet torture he could handle. She had his body overheating. He couldn't take it any longer. His face was etched in ecstasy, eyes closed, head thrown back.

“Oh, shit,” he groaned. “I'm coming. I'm coming. Aaah, aah . . . aaaaaah! I'm getting ready to bust.”

“Mmm. Yes, yes . . . give it to me. Give me that nut. Come for me. Mmm. Come for me . . .”

Another growl, and Cruze exploded, his body shaking as his climax ripped through him, his orgasm shooting out in thick white ropes of hot pleasure.

And then Arabia hunched over and sucked him into her mouth, her tongue swirling over the head of his sweet creamy dick, catching the remaining drips of his orgasm. He moaned as she pulled back, her wet mouth dragging over his shaft. She then licked her way back down his shaft, then back up his length, to the tip, where she used her tongue to swirl away the mixture of chocolate and nut. Her sultry lips slid up and down his shaft, up and down, making him wetter and wetter, sucking the remaining chocolate away until Cruze began to feel lightheaded.

She sucked him deeper into the recesses of her greedy mouth until her lips pressed into his groin; she swallowed him, then extended her tongue and lapped his balls as she hummed and gurgled. Oh, God—fuck yeah. She gurgled and hummed and sucked and licked until she coaxed another gut-wrenching nut out of him.

Then, satisfied, she eased back up on her knees and brought her nut-covered hand to her lips. Cruze eyed her lazily and spent as she slid her tongue over the back of her hand, then sucked her fingers into her mouth, tasting him, savoring him.

He could do nothing but flop back on the bed, pulling Arabia down with him. And they lay quiet and sticky and breathless in the aftershock of something Cruze had no words for.

• • •

“I want you to fuck me in my ass,” Arabia said in Cruze's arms. Her voice came in a low, gentle rasp out of nowhere.

His chest tightened, and he fought to keep the frown from covering his face. He'd fucked lots of pussy. But ass? Nah. He'd never gone that route before, and he'd never thought about sliding his dick in any. He equated ass with shit. And shit on his dick wasn't a good look. So the idea of anal sex never appealed to him.