Beyoncé Knowles can't believe her annoyingly perfect personal assistant has actually resigned from her cushy, highly paid position, and she intends to tell her exactly what she thinks about it.
But when she gets to her place, she comes to realize s...
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Nicki's first wedding was a disaster. They got hitched at the city hall, with clerks as witnesses. No one--literally no one--had supported it, seeing right through Rihmeek. He'd seen her, the Maraj daughter, as a paycheck. But she was young, in love, and stupid.
Then Blue was born and Nicki had to grow up fast.
Now, she had everything she'd ever wanted. Her daughter, a woman who loved her, a career, parents. Not hers--they'd made overtures to get back in touch after she'd started dating Beyonce, but Nicki hadn't wanted to hear them out. They weren't interested in her or their granddaughter while they'd been struggling. She wasn't interested in them now. The end. Beyonce's parents had always been in her corner, though--even more so, now.
If someone had asked her what else she could possibly want, she would have said nothing at all.
She would have lied. Tomorrow, she'd forget all about it; she'd remember how lucky she was, how blessed she was. But today, witnessing Dalton and Ariana's wedding, an ache in her chest made itself known. A desire she couldn't even process.
Beyonce wasn't the romantic type. She wasn't the marrying type. She was solid and real, and she'd be right next to her through thick and thin, but getting on one knee and proposing? That wasn't her deal. That was just fine. She didn't need all that. She knew she and Blue were in her will--that they'd inherit the house if anything ever happened to her. She would never have broached the subject, but she'd told her one day after arranging it all. That was proof that for her, she was it. She didn't need any more. She already had everything she had to give. She didn't need a ring to crown it.
That didn't change the fact that deep down, she wanted it. How she wanted to be her wife.
She danced through the heartache, smiled when she wanted to cry, then cried some, but that was fine, because everyone cried at weddings.
She danced with blue, with Beyonce, with Mrs. Gomez, and Dalton, and Rihanna, and Wayne, and Cassie. She danced with Brandi, and each and everyone of her friends, until her feet started bleeding. Then, she got rid of her heels and danced some more.
It was well past midnight when they made their way to the main house--the Gomez's had rented out the property for their guests. She was tipsy and a little wobbly, but Beyonce carried her to the room.
"Blue..."
"She's with Cassie's cousin. The teen girl."
Nicki nooded tiredly. "Nice kid."
Their friend didn't have kids Blue's age. Actually most of their friends didn't have kids at all yet, though some were trying for them. It was nice that Blue had made friends with a girl close to her age. Cassie's cousin was thirteen.
Nicki yawned, twisting to try to undo her zipper.
"Let me," Beyonce rasped, her voice raw and full of longing.
Her eyes cut to her deep hazel gaze, and she smiled at her lazily. Suddenly, she wasn't all that tired.
"I don't think so, Ms. Knowles. I think I want you to stay right there and watch."
She groaned but complied, dropping her hands. She took her time, undoing the sleeves first, then lifting the skirt inch by inch, teasing her, before letting the dress fall to her ankles. She stood in front of her in a lace set of lingerie she'd never seen before. Slowly, she turned around, to make her watch her.
"Come here."
"What if I don't want to?"
"Come. Here. Or I'll come to you. If I do, I will tear that pretty lingerie off."
"That's supposed to be a deterrent?" she asked.
Nicki laughed when she leaped after her. She ran away, if only because Bey enjoyed the chase. She caught her when she was close to the coffee table. Her arms caged her in between the pretty white chair and her warm torso.
"You're fucking beautiful," she whispered against her ear. "And mine. All mine."
She was. And she wasn't. She was Ms. Maraj, not Ms.Knowles.
Beyonce got to her knees and lifted one of her legs over her shoulder. She moved the fabric of her panties aside, and started to lick the sensitive flesh between her legs. The one knee supporting her buckled. She smoothly lifted it over her shoulder, letting her sit on top of the coffee table as she licked, sucked, slurped, and teased her. The heat inside her belly simmered, then boiled, forcing her to contract every muscle in her legs.
She moaned her name, begging for more. Just when she was about to let go, she got up, sliding her legs from her shoulders to her hips, freed her dick, and entered her hot, wet center in one deep stroke. She came at the first thrust, and she pounded her through the orgasm, drawing it out. Her legs tightened around her, capturing her, never wanting to let her go. Before she knew it, the first orgasm faded, only to reawaken her core, pushing her closer to another one. Beyonce kissed her neck, fondling her breasts and her hair.
This was everything. This was enough.
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I did tell you guys I would update today..and I forgot until thirty minutes ago. Here's the chapter that resulted in that lol. I have to go bye!
Thoughts?
Keep or delete?
Bey?
Nicki?
Uh..question/help: White, black, or blue dress for formal dinner??
