I Can't Own You? (BOOK 1)

74 (NEW)

I wake with an aching waist and thighs...and muscle tightness. That means I did my absolute best last night, that the performance was perfect. Pain is just a reward of effort. I stare down at Noka wrapped in my arms, my mind going dirty.

Hmmm...

I slide my hand up her purple pajama shirt, touching skin as soft as petals. Noka moves around a bit as my hand ventures up to her breast, wide against her small circumference. I kiss her forehead, moving my sweetie closer, and up, so that now she rests close to my chin. She frowns in her sleep. Protesting...or enjoying my touch??

Well, there's only one way to find out...keep going.

I ball my hands around the cup of her bra, groping her breast. "Birdie..." I kiss her lips, she sighs. I love how her mouth hangs from mine. So sexy and such a tease. Noka's lips slip from mine. "We have company."

I move my free hand to race up her shirt and cage around her other breast, and am rewarding with a raspy morning moan, and deep, dark eyes slanted with desire. My mouth spread into a cocksure smile as her hand goes down to my crotch. I put pressure on the cups of her bra, receiving more moans.

I prepare to feel her magical stoke, her rough stride. With her palm up, Noka circles around my boxes, grooving into the dips, lightly. Once again, teasing, she knows what I want.

My little devil.

Out of nowhere, she clasps my dick, hard, too harshly. I wheeze, unable to make my voice higher due to the pain. My body tenses, curling up. My eyes water. "As I said, we have company." She holds me in a lock for a few more seconds. Dominatingly proving a point by inflicting agony. A stinging pinch shakes my dick.

"Ok, ok, I'm sorry." I wheeze on.

"Aww." She lets go. "Thank you." I relax my body and fall flat onto the bed. "Now up, we can't sleep in today. I'll start breakfast."

Should I suggest takeout? She's not a good cook. I eye her hand, fearing being attacked again. No...never mind. "Of course." I get out of bed and offer her my hand as if we are about to slow dance. "My Pakaali."

The door to our room is closed...our guest, Sam and Chris, are probably not up. Judging by the volume of the sun, it's 7 am. I wonder if Reba and Phil are up, older people always get up early. Both had crashed at my parent's place last night. I hope they all slept well after the night's festivities. Hopefully, the body pillows felt nice to rest on; the damn things are so firm. It'll suck if they woke with sore necks.

Ha...necks...I think back to Hanak's neck slap.

In the living room, which is open to the kitchen and dining room, I peek around the corner. Sam is on the couch, his injured leg resting over the bottom arm of the it in a cast. He's tall, so it spills over the edge.

Chris is on a pallet on the floor, with a mega thick quilt, so he barely felt the wood. Good. The rectangular body pillows hang under their necks; Sam's pillow droop onto the floor.

I need something to drink... dehydration is no joke-my mouth feels like a mummy's. I should've grabbed something to cover my semi bare body...a shirtless top and boxer bottoms. Relax...I just gotta have light feet. I can make it to my destination, the fridge, and to my finish line, the bedroom, then I can put on clothes. Good thing Noka is in the restroom...or I'll be writhing in discomfort.

I tiptoe, thinking back to my mother's words: "your feet are getting heavy." Think feathers, think grass, think clouds. I avoid the parts of the floor I knew creaked. Doing a sort of hop scotch pattern, pausing every few seconds to imitate the dramatic hamster look at our sleeping guests.