Lust. || BEYNIKA

L|Chapter FIVE.

Beyoncé BK Knowles.

I take it slow for fear Onika will push me away, and at this very moment that's the last thing I want to happen. Her lips part easily when I persist and within moments she's completely open to me, her tongue sliding against mine. She winds her arms around my neck, her fingers buried in my hair, and I groan at her touch.

Slow goes straight out the window when I smooth my hand down her side, over her hip, curling my fingers into the fabric of her dress. I hitch it up the slightest bit, my mouth never straying from hers, and I feel her tremble beneath my palm as I slip my hand beneath her skirt.

She tastes amazing, feels even better, and when I touch the bare flesh of her thigh I feel her shudder, a soft gust of breath brushing against my lips as she shakily exhales. Her eyes open and meet mine as I smooth my other hand over her hair, fingers tangling in the loose waves.

"You're beautiful," I whisper, because she is. So damn beautiful, I ache with wanting her.

She presses her swollen lips together, her eyes closing as I continue to stroke my fingers through her hair. My other hand is completely still, resting on the outside of her thigh beneath her skirt, and I don't move for fear she'll tell me to let her go.

I don't know if I can.

"Beyoncé," she whispers, and I kiss her to cut off whatever else she wanted to say. If it was a denial, an argument, a declaration, I don't care. I don't want to hear it.

I just want to feel Onika in my arms, her mouth meshed with mine, our tongues dancing, her entire body trembling as she melts into me. I've waited for this moment for what feels like forever.

Finally, I'm holding her. Finally, she's responding to me like she wants me rather than wanting to kick my ass. While the opportunity presents itself, I'm going to jump all over it. And if that means I get to jump all over Onika , then I'm going for it.

I let my hand on her thigh inch upward, slowly. Closer to her hip until my fingers skim the lacy scrap of her panties and my dick twitches behind my zipper. The fabric is thin and doesn't amount to much and I wish I could push her against the ledge, yank her skirt up to her waist, and drink her in.

But we only have a few minutes. I'm desperate to touch her. To make her gasp with wanting me, so I have to be quick.

My mouth never straying from hers, I slip my fingers beneath the thin strip that stretches across her hip and touch bare, soft flesh. Her chest heaves against mine, her breasts pushing into my chest and adrenaline rushes through me at the way she reacts to my touch.

That reaction emboldens me and I trail my fingers forward, across her hipbone, the soft flesh of her stomach. I can feel the tremors beneath the surface of her skin as I skim my fingers down farther... farther... until the heat of her engulfs me and I slowly slip my hand between her legs.

"Beyoncé," she chokes out against my lips when I touch her, test her. She's drenched, so wet my fingers glide easily over her folds.

"Damn, you're wet." She grips my shoulders as if she needs to. Like I'm some sort of lifeline and she's afraid to let go. "Tell me what you want," I whisper close to her ear, my fingers between her legs, searching her hot, wet depths. She moves with me, her hips thrusting against my hand and I close my eyes, fighting for control. Scared out of my mind I'm going to come in my pants and make a fool of myself.