Balogun

JEALOUSY

"What do you do when the one person you want comfort from the most is the one who caused your pain? How can I want so desperately for him to wrap me up in his arms but also want so much for him to leave me alone."
                           - Amanda Grace

"Stay calm. He likes to rile you up. Just stay calm," Abike told herself the next morning as she walked to the Prince's room.

She had taken control of the situation last night and didn't give him any leverage, so the same would go for today.

She knocked on the door, careful not to let the content of the glass spill as she moved. When she heard no reply, she pushed the door open and heard the splash of water in the bathroom.
Her lips suddenly became dry as she stood beside the shut door, awaiting him.

It took another five minutes before the water stopped running and the bathroom door slipped open. He came out with a towel around his waist, his pecs and body glistening with water, and not at all surprised to see her standing there.

"Hey." He greeted with a smile.

"Hi," she breathed, bewitched by the intensity of his eyes.

He padded to the wardrobe and searched through it for his workout pants. He put on his clothes and then begin to load his bag with workout supplies.
His routine was the same every day and when he sat to pull on his boots, she smiled at how predictable that part of his life was unlike the man himself.

When he was done, he glanced at the clock and stretched out his hand for the glass of milk. She walked to him and watched as he gulped it down.

"I have to go in about ten minutes," he said, setting down the glass and reaching for her. She laughed and went into his arms, feeling very grateful and happy to be spending another day with this version of him.

"Your friend isn't here yet."

"His name is Jamal."

"Well, Jamal isn't here yet." She put her arms around his neck and rested her forehead against his. He blinded her with another smile.

"So it's easier to call him Jamal than to call me Olumurewa. Is that right?" He sounded so serious but his voice was light.

"I do call you by your name," she argued.

"Really?" His voice became husky. "You only do that when you're in my bed." His hand slipped under her dress and gripped her thigh. Abike moaned.

"You are so innocent, but you like it when I talk this way to you, hmm?" He bit down on her neck and she arched against him. He was right.

At first, his crude and vulgar manner of speaking had seemed so dirty and unbelievable, but she couldn't deny the way her nipples hardened nor the way her core ached for him whenever he spoke like that.
"Answer me, ma."

"Hmm? What was the question?"

His hands crept further up her thigh and she held her breath, waiting for his hovering fingers to touch her there. He didn't. He played around with her, caressing the sensitive skin of her thighs and she arched against him.

"You didn't come for me last night," he whispered into her ear, his fingers still skimming her thigh.
In her confusion, it took her a long moment to understand what he was saying.

"Yes."

"How about now?" One finger grazed her clit and she moaned.

"You...you have ten minutes," she breathed.

He smiled again; the third one this morning. Yes, she was counting. "I only need three." He spun her suddenly and threw her back on the bed. She giggled. "Raise your gown, ma." He turned to her then, his hands gripping her legs and pulling her to the edge of the bed.