Lust. || BEYNIKA

L|Chapter NINE.

Onika Cookie Maraj.

BEYONCÉ Knowles has a body like no other person I’ve been with before, let alone seen live and in person, up close and in my face. All solid mass and smooth skin, defined muscles and perky chest and broad shoulders. She’s all I can see and hear and smell and taste while she lies on top of me, her long fingers curled around my wrists, holding my arms captive above my head.

What we’re doing is so completely unexpected, so unbelievably exciting, my entire body is shaking in anticipation. She’s kissing me like she’s a starving woman and I’m the only thing she craves. I can feel her erection nudging between my legs, and I’m so wet for her it’s almost embarrassing.

But I don’t care. I’m drunk on the sensation of her body pressing into mine, her hungry mouth, hee insistent tongue, those big, rough hands pinning me to the bed.

I had no idea being held down would arouse me so much, but oh my God, I’m so hot for her I feel like I’m going to burst.

“Promise not to go straight for my dick?” she whispers in my ear after breaking our kiss.

I want to laugh. I also want to moan. Her blunt words turn me on too. “Maybe I really want to go straight for your dick.”

Her eyes lock with mine. They’re dark and full of smoldering heat. “I already told you what might happen if you did that.”

Oh yes, she sure did. I might want to witness that too. In fact, the idea is amazingly hot. Me stroking her, Beyoncé losing all control and coming all over my fingers . . .

Restlessly I rub my legs against her, and she chuckles as if she can read my mind. “Promise me you won’t make a grab.”

“I can’t promise you that,” I whisper.

“Then let me touch you.” Her voice lowers as her fingers loosen gently around my wrists. Until they’re slipping away and she’s nuzzling my neck with her face, her hands skimming along my sides. “I want to explore you.”

I’m not going to protest. That’s exactly what I want her to do. So instead of making a grab for her dick—as she so kindly says—I sling my arms around her neck, my hands in her hair, gently guiding her down as she rains kisses across my collarbone, my chest, the tops of my breasts, the valley between my breasts ...

She’s teasing me. My nipples ache for her mouth to wrap around them and her lips are everywhere but my nipples. I don’t know if I can stand this exquisite torture, her hands gripping my hips, her mouth all over my sensitive skin. I tighten my hold on her hair, tugging hard until she mutters a curse word against my flesh before she licks one nipple.

Then she licks the other.

The ragged moan that escapes me is nothing like the usual sounds I make in bed, and I clamp my lips shut, momentarily embarrassed. But then she does it again, her velvety damp tongue flicking back and forth over my nipple, driving me absolutely wild. Another shuddery moan leaves me, and I tangle my fingers in her hair, holding her to me as she licks and sucks and edges her teeth on my flesh, gently nipping. Testing me.

It feels so good I want more. Oh God, I’m crazed with wanting her teeth on me, her hands all over me. “Harder,” I whisper, my request shocking myself and she bites my nipple, hard.