Post-Mortem Melodies

Gangsta by Kehlani Part Two

Jolie had her chin cupped in both hands and a lazy smile on her face. She loved watching her man at work. She loved watching her man do anything, roll blunts, drive, cut niggas down with either his words or his fists. It stirred something in her that made her pussy wet and her heart flutter.

Marcus was a stuttering mess. By now he'd figured out that he was fucked, to what extent Jolie didn't know. But if the way he couldn't start or finish one sentence was any sign, this was gonna be fun.

Killmonger was visibly growing agitated as he watched the much shorter man scramble to save his ass.

"See, man, it's not even like that. I-it was all just a misunderstanding, right?" Wide, fear filled dark eyes locked onto Jolie. "Right?" Marcus asked desperately.

Jolie's only response was a playful wink and the clamorous sound of ice clinking around her empty glass.

"Fuck you lookin at her for?" One hand shot out and Killmonger gripped Marcus caught by the back of his neck. He lifted him with one hand easily. Marcus struggled to keep his feet on the ground.

"When I ask you a question, you answer that shit." Killmonger kept his voice low. The threat and tension there unmistakable.

Jolie cackled from her front-row seat at the bar, "Fuck him up, Daddy!"

Marcus started blubbering, "No, don't listen to her! Don't fuck him up!"

Sweat dripped off his forehead in rivulets. Jolie suspected it was only a matter of time before he was full out blubbering. Begging for his life through tears and snot. Jolie clapping her hands together in excitement.

Dark, depthless eyes flicked over to her and the corner of Killmonger's mouth quirked up into something that could barely pass as a smile. The look barely lasted a second and then all softness, all affection, was gone. The look of disgust that replaced the half smile moved Jolie. She leaned forward in her seat in anticipation.

"Shut that shit up," Killmonger punctuated the sentence with a punch into Marcus's solar plexus. He held his victim in place just long enough for a few more hits in the same spot before releasing Marcus to crumple to the floor.

While Marcus lay soundlessly gasping for air, his face cracked open in an expression of the purest agony, Killmonger's intense stare returned to Jolie.

Killmonger signaled to his crew, the five lieutenants he kept by his side at all times, and stepped over the still struggling to breathe Marcus. A cocked eyebrow and a smirk were Jolie's only warning before Killmonger's hand shot out like a cobra and locked around her neck. A flex of his arm and she was off her seat and stumbling into the blazing warmth of his chest.

Though his grip was tight enough to bruise, Jolie smiled. The feeling of his calloused hand on her skin surged straight to her pussy. The tighter he held her, the wetter she got. It wasn't always like this. She wasn't always like this. There was a time that if a man put hands on her, she'd have put him in the hospital.

It was Killmonger who taught her about the fine line between pleasure and pain.

"What I tell you about entertaining these niggas?" Killmonger said. Behind him, Torres and Harris were trying to stand Marcus up in an upright position.

"Sorry, Daddy," Jolie pouted. The way she bit her bottom lip thwarted the innocent look she attempted. She was wearing the lipstick he liked, the one that made her lips look like shiny candy apples. Juicy and delectable. Killmonger couldn't resist her lips.

Over his shoulder, Marcus managed a few stuttering gasps.

"Don't think 'cause you lookin all cute that you're not getting punished." The dark promise in his eyes left Jolie squirming in his grip.