Killmonger's One-Shot Collection

Darling Erik

Notes: Inspired by Prince's song Darling Nikki. Sexual content.
♡

You had a good government job and were was grateful, especially since you were a black woman getting paidto travel cross-country to Napa, California for a week-long annual conference held specifically for black employees. You knew you were about to turn up. Sipping on a latte late evening in the lobby, you watched the crowds of your unapologetically black peers meander through, back and forth. Scanning and walking slowly through the open area, you attempted to discern the lecturers, nodding here and there at the peoples whose eyes you met. Who from the noisy crowd would be teaching the classes, you wondered. That's when you spotted the handsome guy sitting across the way with his hand brazenly down the front of his track pants, moving up and down. Curiosity got the best of you. Casually, you made your way over and walked behind him. He was watching porn on his phone.. in the open with no care. He didn't look dirty. He didn't stink. His clothes weren't old. His jewelry didn't look cheap in the least, his gold and diamond bling looked very real. So then why was he jacking off in the lobby as if he had nowhere to go? The bathroom would've sufficed.

"See something you like?" His hand stalled on his junk and he raised a finger on his other hand, twirling it in the air. "You. Nosey ass, come around where I can see you."

Why not? You stand directly in front of him, towering over him in his lewd pose. There's something playful in his eyes as he stares unblinking into yours. You return the blazing energy, your eyes burning into his. There's definitely something about him that makes you think you're far enough from home where nothing will follow you. It makes you want to take a risk.

"Let's do sum," he says, reading your filthy little mind as all of the things the two of you could do, run rampant through it. You hold your position before him as he stands causing him to rub against you. You couldn't resist, you felt his bulge against you and you had to touch his print with your fingers. He was packing weight.

Nodding his head toward the door, he looks at you and begins to walk to the exit. Passing through the throngs of people, you follow.

The cityscape whizzes by through the window, the sky darkening as you ride in the passenger seat of his white Bugatti. The nigga had money and lots of it. Whether it was acquired legally or illegally, you didn't know and you didn't care. You just wanted to ride him like a Harley until the sun came up.

His house wasn't a house. It was a fully furnished building that one could get lost in. Hi-teched out the ying yang.

"Upstairs," he said showing you to the elevator and stepping on with you. The ride was smooth, it barely felt like you'd moved. Once the doors opened, he pushed you forward. "To your right." There was a door with a lock. If you were to go missing at this point, no one would even know. You think of this, but as far as you've come.. you aren't going anywhere dickless. Even if he'd planned to kill you or do anything in a similar vein, he'd have to fuck you first. He produced a key and you watched him twist it into the lock and open the door.

With a look into his face, a face that gives nothing away, you push the door open and walk in with no fear or hesitation. When he flips the lights though.... holt shit. The room is full of BDSM equipment, racks, plugs, a bed, and various sizes of vibrators and dildos. He closes the door, locking you both inside. "Let me do what I want," he says still parked against the door. Ignoring his words, you walk back to him and grab at his print. He pushes you away with just enough force to send you to the ground, but not enough to hurt. "I'm in charge," he reiterates waiting for you to agree. It feels like signing your walls away. The were some walrus sized dildos in that room that you weren't too excited about.