Addicted 2 Moni

Lines Crossed

Asia^

Moni's POV

"And you're jealous," Dewayne smirks, pressing me against the wall. His strong hands grip my hips, holding me in place. His breath is warm against my face, his dark eyes daring me to deny it.

"I'm not fucking jealous," I snap, shoving at his chest with both hands. He doesn't budge, his smirk only growing wider. "None of the bitches you're messing with have shit on me."

"Is that so?" he asks, his voice low and teasing. Before I can respond, he grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head with one hand. His body presses closer to mine, and I hate the way my heart races, the way my thighs clench involuntarily.

"You're right," he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear. "They don't have shit on you."

Then his lips crash into mine. It's not sweet or tender—it's possessive, overwhelming, everything I hate to admit I want. His tongue slides against mine, his teeth grazing my bottom lip, sending sparks through my body.

For a moment, I give in, letting myself melt into the kiss. His hand grips my waist, pulling me closer, and my resolve weakens.

But then it hits me. He was with someone else not even an hour ago.

"Get the hell off me!" I yell, turning my head away. My chest heaves as I glare at him, trying to ignore the way my body betrays me, still aching for his touch. "I don't know where your lips have been. You probably kissed that bitch, too."

"I didn't kiss her," he growls, his voice sharp. "I'm kissing you."

His lips trail down to my neck, and I hate how my body reacts, arching against him as he finds the spot that makes me weak.

"It was just sex," he whispers, his teeth grazing my skin.

Those three words snap me out of it. Just sex? My stomach twists, anger flaring in my chest.

"I'm not one of your hoes, Dewayne," I say, shoving him away. "I'm not going to be 'just sex.' So go."

He stares at me, his jaw tight, his eyes searching mine. "Moni, I don't want just sex. I—"

"Just GO," I shout, cutting him off before he can say anything else.

He steps back, running a hand over his face. "I'm sorry," he mutters before turning and walking out the door.
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Later That Night

The apartment is quiet except for the soft hum of Harmony's playlist. I've spent hours decorating, trying to keep my mind busy, but it doesn't matter. Dewayne is still in my head.

I pour another glass of Hennessy, letting the burn settle in my chest as I head to bed. Tossing my phone onto the nightstand, I crawl under the covers, pulling them over my head.

But the second I close my eyes, he's there. The way he kissed me, the way his hands gripped my wrists, his lips claiming mine like I belonged to him.

I groan, rolling onto my back. My body aches for him in ways I hate to admit.

My fingers trail down to my panties, already damp with anticipation. I grab my vibrator from the drawer, biting my lip as I turn it on.

The soft buzz sends a shiver through my body, and I close my eyes, imagining his hands instead of mine. His voice echoes in my head, low and rough: "You're mine, Moni. Say it."

"Dewayne," I whisper, my hips moving to the rhythm. The wetness between my thighs grows as the vibrator hits just the right spot.

I picture him above me, his lips trailing down my neck, his fingers teasing me, his body pressing against mine.

"Fuck," I moan, my back arching as the tension builds. My breaths come faster, my legs trembling. His name falls from my lips as I shatter, the release leaving me breathless.

For a moment, I lie there, staring at the ceiling. But the ache in my chest doesn't go away.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand. Dewayne 😫😍🤤.

I stare at it as it buzzes again. Decline. Then again. Decline. Boy, stop calling me.

——-///———

Dewayne's POV

"Why the hell isn't she answering?" I mutter, pacing the apartment. I've called her three times, texted her twice, and still nothing.

The thought of her ignoring me makes my blood boil. Does she really not care?

There's a knock at the door, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Who is it?" I call, already irritated.

"It's Asia," comes the familiar voice.

I open the door, and there she is, her silk robe hanging loose, black lingerie peeking out from underneath. Her lips curve into a sly smile as she steps inside.

"Hey, Dewayne," she purrs, her fingers trailing down my chest.

"Asia," I say flatly, stepping back. "It's not a good time."

She tilts her head, her fingers lingering at the waistband of my boxers. "You sure about that? You look tense, baby. Let me help."

I grab her wrist, stopping her. "Not tonight, Asia. I'm serious."

Her pout deepens, but she doesn't pull away. "Come on, Dewayne. Let me take care of you. You know I'm good at it."

I shake my head, stepping back. "I said no."

She sighs dramatically, rolling her eyes. "Alright, fine. But don't say I didn't offer." She turns and walks out, her hips swaying as she heads down the hallway.

I close the door, leaning against it with a sigh. My phone buzzes again in my hand.
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The Phone Call

"Moni, please talk to me," Dewayne says, his voice low, almost desperate. "I'm really sorry for earlier. I didn't mean—"

A soft gasp escapes my lips as the vibrator brushes against me again. I forgot to turn it off, and my body is still sensitive.

"Moni... what the hell are you doing?" His tone shifts, suspicion creeping in.

I bite my lip, debating whether to tease him. "I'm not mad anymore," I say finally, my voice breathy. "It... it feels so good."

"Are you serious right now?" he snaps. "You're really letting some other nigga touch you?"

I smirk, letting out a soft, deliberate moan. "Mhm... I have to go," I whisper. "I'm kinda busy."

Before he can respond, I hang up, tossing the phone aside. Petty? Yes. But the thought of him stewing in his jealousy brings a small smile to my lips.

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At Asia's Apartment

By the time I knock on Asia's door, the anger has morphed into something darker. Lust. Spite. Need.

She opens the door, her robe untied, revealing her black lace lingerie. Her eyes light up with satisfaction as she sees me.

"I knew you'd come back," she says, stepping aside to let me in.

"Yeah," I mutter, my voice low.

She leads me to the bedroom, the air heavy with the scent of burning herbs. The dim lighting casts shadows across her curves as she climbs onto the bed, motioning for me to join her.

"Relax, baby," she whispers, straddling my lap. "Let me take care of you."

Her lips find my neck, her hands sliding down my chest to the waistband of my boxers.

"Just let me make you forget," she murmurs, her lips trailing lower.

I let her, my mind swirling with anger, lust, and frustration. But even as she takes me over the edge, it's not her I'm thinking about.

Just a filler chapter. What do you thing of Dwayne and Harmony?

Comments and likes needed. I need to know how I'm doing.