"D?" "Yes, baby." I lowered my gaze to the floor. "I... I'm turned on. I... I don't know if I'll be able to sleep like this." He hummed softly. "What would you want me to do?" I stared at him. I didn't know what to say. He took a step forward. "Amoya, tell me what you want." I gulped. He gripped my chin, forcing my eyes to his. He brushed his lips against mine, teasing me. "Umm, I-I," the words got stuck in my throat. He titled my head, and placed his lips to my ear. "Do you want me to make you come?" My movements stilled. Between my legs clenched. My mouth opened, but no words came out. He smirked, slow and deliberate. "I'll take that as a yes." ______________________________________ He was dangerous. Too dangerous for a girl like me. I grew up sheltered, protected by rules and curfews, watched by strict and dangerous parents who believed love was a distraction, boys were trouble and power and control was everything. And then he came - dark, sharp, and everything I was warned to stay away from. One look from him and every rule I'd ever known began to blur. Every warning turned to a whisper I no longer cared to hear. Because I'd already fallen for him. This man - in a cruel twist of fate - was my father's rival. And he was forbidden.

𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙜𝙖? 𝙬𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢𝙢𝙢𝙢!! ━━ "Anyways y'all I'm bouta hop off cause I'm so mother fucking hungry that I would eat pork right now" I swiped off Instagram and turned off my phone. Mir moved to go lean on the counter and I fixed my position so I could see his face "I can ask you some?" Nodding my head I waited for him go say something "you love a nigga for real?" Shit do I lie? Pretend as if it's a joke and I'm playing? Laugh it off? Try act like I couldn't hear him? No hablo inglés? Or just keep smiling? Or tell the truth? I'm sure any will work. ━━ y'all the book is unedited!! ranks 🦋 #1 hoodlovestory #1 clingy #1 blackcouples #1 thuglife #1 smutmaybe #2 hoodlove #2 urbanstory #3 shortstory #3 crazylovestory #3 newyork #4 urbanfiction #4 thuglove #5 lovestory #5 urbanromance #6 possessive #8 hoodromance

They didn't end up in the same space on purpose. Brooklynn is the quiet type. Not shy... just tired. Tired in the "life been heavy for a while now" way. He minds his business, goes to work, comes home, and keeps his world small because that's how he breathes. Azyir is the opposite. Loud, funny, always in motion. ADHD running the wheel every day. Talks so much he forgets to say what he really means. Laughs loud so nobody asks if he's okay. They sit in the same trig class at their HBCU, but they don't talk. They don't dislike each other either. They just... live in two different worlds. Messiah Markell is their professor. Older, calm, strict in the quiet way that makes people sit up straighter. He owns a club downtown called Desirable, but in class he keeps everything controlled. He doesn't like watching people drown in silence or noise. He sees them both slipping. Not failing. Slipping. So he tells them to stay after class. Every day. Not for tutoring. Not for discipline. Just to sit, breathe, work, or not work. A room where nobody has to force themselves to be "okay." And somehow, without anybody planning it... The quiet one. The loud one. And the man who teaches them how to stay. Start learning how to need each other. Not in a fast way. Not in a dramatic way. In the way real connections happen: Slow glances. Shared exhaustion. Walking home together because home doesn't feel safe tonight. Sitting in silence that doesn't hurt. Being seen without having to explain. This is a story about: Black boy rest. Soft dominance. Messy feelings. Learning how to stay present. No fake deep. No forced love. Just real people figuring out how to breathe.

He turned a church girl into his personal freak.

❝ ɪ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ꜱᴜᴍ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ. ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴀʟʟ ɴᴇᴡ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ. ❞ STARTED: FEB 19TH, 2024. ENDED: FEB 4TH, 2024.

Zharai Monét Kevelle and Kaelvion Rhys Montel have been in each other's space for years-she's the loud, funny girl who always has a comeback, and he's the quiet, too-cool type that everybody assumes doesn't laugh. They aren't official. They're not even "talking"... but they can't stay out of each other's way. Every time they link, Zha-Zha teases him-about his waves, his serious face, his music, his "grandpa glasses." What starts as playful arguments slowly turns into them catching real feelings. But Kael moves low-key and doesn't give his heart easily, while Zha-Zha is scared of loving someone who might break her like her past dudes. The question is... will they both stop playing before it's too late?

𝐀 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 "𝘄𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗯𝗶𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆, 𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘄𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲." 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥, 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐲𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐢 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐲𝐧'𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐚𝐲. 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲. 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐲𝐧'𝐬 𝐝𝐮𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬, 𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝟑𝟏,𝟎𝟎𝟗

𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞. 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝐇𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐌𝐫.𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. "𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐌𝐫.𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮..."

🎸 "You feel that?" he murmured. "Feel how wet you are for me?" "Maverick-" she gasped. "I could fuck this pretty pussy all night," he groaned. "Look at the mess you're making on me. Soaking the sheets. Look up, baby. Look at what I'm doing to you." She looked up at the mirror-saw his body rocking into hers, the muscles in his arms flexing as he pinned her down. Her breasts bounced with every thrust, nipples hard and huge milk chocolate areoles glistening with sweat. Her mouth fell open again. "No lyrics now?" he teased. "I c-can't-" "You were doing so good," he murmured, grinding deeper. __________________________ Celeste Jones is music royalty-an electric guitar virtuoso with a voice that sells out stadiums and a presence that commands every room she walks into. To the public she's bold, curvy, unapologetically sensual, and used to being admired from a distance. But there's so much to her they don't know. When an anonymous threat shakes her world, her team hires a bodyguard she can't ignore. Maverick Walker is ex-military, all discipline and control. His low waves are always tight, his dark skin glows under stage lights, and his trimmed beard frames a mouth that rarely smiles. He's not here to play fanboy. He's here to do a job: keep Celeste alive. But Celeste doesn't make it easy. She flirts with him like it's foreplay. One shared kiss is all it takes for Maverick's resolve to fracture. As danger creeps closer, the chemistry between them catches fire. Their kisses turn to touches. Their touches turn to nights neither of them can forget. And when it all explodes, it's more than just lust-it's survival, it's love, it's everything. Released: 04/02/2025

"You got three seconds to open this door before I kick that bitch in," a deep voice growled through the wood. Zamara's heart jumped. She wasn't expecting nobody-especially not a man with a voice that rough and mean. "Nigga, who the fuck-" she started, yanking the door open. And immediately regretted it. He stood there like a shadow from hell. Tall. Broad. Tatted. And mad as fuck. A black hoodie hugged his body, revealing a Glock tucked at his hip. "Where. The fuck. Is Kyndall?" he asked low and slow. Zamara crossed her arms over her chest, attitude activated. "I don't know, and I damn sure ain't scared of you standing here mean-mugging like you somebody daddy." A smirk curled on his lips. "You should be scared, ma." Then he leaned in, real close. "But lucky for you... I don't hit women. I just fuck 'em crazy and make sure they don't walk right for three days." Her breath caught, but her mouth didn't. "Boy, please." "You gon' be sayin that from my bed soon. Watch."