Pearls and Power

Chapter 2

A/N: I'm having SERIOUS writer's block rn. I need a nap. I'm stressed af rn. This is just a little something short before I take another break.

37 days. Ten hours. 2 minutes and 55 seconds.

That's how long it took before I caved in and ended up exactly where Kamala wanted me. Which now is me riding her fingers in the middle of the living room on her lap, on my couch.

At first, I was going to kick her out. I was going to dominate the conversation and not let her get a word in edge-wise. But, of course, I'm weak. I can't deny her; if I do, I can't last long. She's always been my Achille's heel, and that's why having her around me is so dangerous. Still, despite all of the red flags and the toxic nature of our relationship, I'm here fully naked because Kamala is nothing but thorough in her work and loves to undress me, being fucked mercilessly on the couch.

"I can tell by how you're swallowing my fingers that you missed this," Kamala moans. She looks up at me, her eyes twinkling as she takes in the sight of my being debauched by her.

I shake my head, but my body betrays me when I begin to clench around her fingers. God, does she feel so good inside of me? She always has. It was like her fingers were made for fucking me.

"No? You didn't miss this?" She asks, twisting the two fingers she has inside me.

I shake my head again, but of course, we both know I don't mean. I have missed this slightly. Though I'm engaged to Roman, I've never slept with him, and I doubt I will. He has asked why, but I always come up with some excuse. Even with my excuses, he never pressured me. He just accepted whatever I had to say and said that he respected my decision. Still, with the respect to my decision, that doesn't stop him from getting what he needs from other women. I've gone over to his apartment and have seen his discarded shirts with lipstick on them balled up in the corner. I've smelled different perfumes mixed with his cologne, but I have never said a word. How could I be upset with him stepping out on our relationship if I'm guilty of doing the same?

"I can't believe you keep denying us like this," Kamala tuts her tongue.

I bite my lip, keeping the sounds of pleasure, wanting to escape back. This is just a relapse. Nothing good is going to come from this.

"Just say it, baby," Kamala says.

Still, I stay silent, and I close my eyes, hoping that the lack of seeing her would keep me from caving in anymore.

"Come on, tell Mommy," Kamala urges.

She knows exactly how to push my buttons. That was her invitation. Every time she knew I was in my head during sex, she would pull the Mommy card. Not as a way to manipulate me but to show me that I was safe in the moment we created and that I could let go of the reigns completely.

The logical part of my brain wants to hold on tightly, but the sex-crazed part of my brain cuts the reigns immediately, letting Kamala have control.

"Oh, Mommy," I gasp.

"That's it, just like that," Kamala coos and curls her fingers just so.

"Tell Mommy what you want. Tell Mommy, and I'll give it to you. I'll give it all to you," She says, kissing the side of my neck.

"Make me come. I need it so badly," I whine.

"You do? You must be so pent up; I don't think we've ever gone this long without seeing each other," Kamala says.

I open my eyes, and I meet her hungry gaze. She surges forward to kiss me, her tongue swirling against mine. I grind down against her fingers, and she smiles into the kiss. She pushes her fingers deeper, and I pull away from the kiss.