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⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆Later That Night⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆Porter Luxury Apartments, Chicago IL⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆
There was just something about natural hair that would always do it for Makai. Sure, he liked braids and colored bussdowns, or whatever the correct term was for them.
But in his humble opinion, there just wasn't anything like a woman who was proud to rock her natural tresses. Nothing on earth could compare to the raw, unfiltered beauty of a black woman.
So, of course, it made sense that Makai wasn't paying any attention to Food Wars that was playing on Ciyana's Mackbook Pro.
The anime was on its third suggestive comment in the past five minutes, but he couldn't care less.
He was too busy being wrapped up in all of Ciyana's curls and coils that spilled over her shoulders. The mix of all the different curl patterns around her head creating the perfect chaos.
She let him play in them as his head rested against her chest, while she simultaneously ran her hands through his messy two-toned locs.
A small groan escaped his throat as she began to massage his scalp.
He loved how gentle and soft her touch was. And how good she smelled—her scent being something he could remember even when they weren't together.
And don't get him started on the small unintentional pout her face held when her expression was blank. All of this had his mind panning out some very not so appropriate scenarios between the two.
He wouldn't act on them just yet though because he was enjoying the moment just chilling with her. But the second she gave him the first hint he would not hesitate to wear her ass out.
He missed what she had between her legs just as much as he did her pretty face.
"You supposed to be watching the show and instead you watching me," Ciyana rolled her eyes when they were met with his the second she reverted her attention from the show.
"Cause you look good, ma. And cause you got me watching this freaked out ass show. Ain't they ass supposed to be cooking?" Makai questioned, his tone raspy and slightly muffled.
"Oh my gosh, it's a good show. Just watch it," she huffed, moving his hands away from her and putting her gaze back on the show and he chuckled doing the same.
He had his opportunity to pick a show but he told her he didn't care what they watched.
So since the choice was in her hands, she picked one of her favorites. He should've chose when he had the chance because this was her jam.
