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thegeminideity · 6 months ago

Text

Woven in Rhythm.

Warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI.

Faceclaims: #DaveEast and Kehlani

Word Count: 3,000 words.

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Marcus hadn't planned for this. One minute, Zara was standing confidently in front of him, her voice full of fiery conviction, and the next, she was kneeling at his feet. He wasn't sure how it had happened, but as he looked down at her, he couldn't help but appreciate the view. It was hard to tear his gaze away, and truth be told, he didn't want to.

Without thinking, he reached out, gently pulling the elastic from Zara's hair, watching her curls tumble down around her face, softening her features. The sight made something stir inside him, but he quickly pushed it aside as Zara's hands began to fumble with the buttons of his jeans.

His confusion flickered as he glanced down, her fingers unsteady. He didn't like this. Leaning down, he grabbed her chin firmly, forcing her to look up at him. Her pupils were blown wide, a haze clouding her expression. His heart dropped, the weight of her vulnerability pulling him back.

"Naw Z," he murmured, stepping back from her. "You're drunk."

She tried to protest, her voice slurring as she began to speak, but he cut her off, his tone firm. "You're drunk as fuck. Allat preaching shit and shit you be doing. Only for you to end up doing the same shit?" He grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet, too harshly. She stumbled, her balance teetering as he led her toward the kitchen.

"I'm not drunk," she slurred, pouting as she tried to regain her footing. "Just... slightly tipsy."

Marcus didn't have the patience for this, his frustration bubbling over. "Sit down," he barked. "And think about yo fucking actions.." Zara shot him a look, crossing her arms, but she obeyed, plopping herself down at the kitchen island with a sigh.

Her voice softened as she looked up at him, her gaze tender. "You're so sexy when you're mean. But you're also really mean... I don't like it."

Marcus watched her, his jaw tightening as he moved around the kitchen. He'd never spent much time in Zara's new place, but the way she had everything organized was fascinating. The silverware wasn't tucked away in drawers but stacked on the counter, each piece in its own container, a strange but endearing precaution against cobwebs. Her cups and plates were neatly separated, and anything above $2 had its own special cabinet far from the sink.

"I don't like you drinking, Z," he muttered, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. "But shit, we all can't be beggars."

Zara glanced up at him, her expression softening as she took the water from his hands, drinking it down in one go, followed by a few ice cubes. He stood there, watching her, the empathy in his gaze undeniable. He knew she was far from a casual drinker, and while he didn't believe she'd relapse over a single night, the thought of why weighed on him.

"What happened?" he asked after a moment, his voice quieter now, full of curiosity.

Zara looked up at him, her eyes twinkling with something close to affection. She smiled, a look that made his stomach tighten. Her gaze lingered, and he quickly looked away, feeling the heat creep up his neck. She had that effect on him, whether she meant to or not.

"Always dem damn eyes, bra," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. Zara chuckled softly and mimicked his accent, but the attempt was clumsy, making him laugh despite himself.

"Yo, what was that supposed to be?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as she stood before him.

Zara shrugged, her arms wrapping around his neck. "Your accent... but you definitely do it better," she admitted softly, her eyes drifting down to his lips. The movement didn't escape his notice, and he licked his lips in response, watching her eyes flicker back to them. He smirked, his hands finding her waist, pulling her closer.

"I know I do," he whispered, his voice low and commanding. "But c'mere."

They closed the distance between them, their lips meeting in a kiss that quickly deepened, causing them both to stumble back into the kitchen counter. Marcus's hands roamed, finding the curve of Zara's ass, squeezing it tightly, making her moan into his mouth. The sound ignited something wild in him, and he couldn't help but smack her left cheek, the sharp sting causing her to gasp.

The sound of her gasp made him do it again, and then again, until Zara was nothing but a breathless mess, whimpering against his mouth.

"Baby..." she whimpered, her voice strained with need.

Marcus slid his hands under her shorts, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh, cooling the heat of her skin. His lips trailed down her neck, where he bit, kissed, and licked, his body pressing harder against hers, consumed by the desire building between them.

"Fuck me."

Marcus gently laid Zara down on the bed, his lips trailing a slow, purposeful path from her neck to her chest. Each kiss was tender, lingering as he let his hands roam, brushing over her tattoos like he was trying to formulate the stories hidden beneath her skin. The ink, vibrant and alive, was something he couldn't wait to explore in words later, but for now, he was lost in the way her body responded to his touch.

His breath warmed the sensitive skin of her collarbone as he murmured, “You wet for me?" His hand slid under the waistband of her shorts, fingers sliding through the slick heat of her folds. The feeling of her arousal on his fingertips made his heart race. He circled his finger around her clit, applying just enough pressure to send a shiver through her body.

Zara arched off the bed, gasping at the intensity of the sensation. Her legs parted instinctively, inviting him in further. "Marc..." she breathed, her voice breaking with the weight of the pleasure coursing through her. Her back bowed again as he pressed two fingers against her most sensitive spot, rubbing quickly but with relentless pressure. Her stomach clenched in response, the tremors building inside her.

He kissed her cheek softly, his fingers retreating from her body as he moved back, standing at the edge of the bed. Without a word, he brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting her sweetness. The groan that escaped him was low and feral, and it sent a thrill through Zara, her body already responding to him.

With one smooth motion, he tugged off his shirt and tossed it aside, his gaze never leaving hers as he gripped the ends of her legs, pulling her closer to the edge of the bed. His voice was thick with desire as he rasped, "You taste so fucking sweet. So fucking divine."

He peeled her shorts off, his movements deliberate as he positioned her legs over his shoulders, his eyes dark with hunger. Without hesitation, he leaned in, diving headfirst into the heat between her thighs. Zara gasped, her hands instinctively grasping the sheets as he began to lick her with slow, deliberate strokes.

His tongue swirled around her clit in perfect figure eights, each movement calculated to send waves of pleasure crashing over her. He wasn't in a hurry—he was savoring every taste, every inch of her.

Zara's breath came in ragged gasps as she watched him, her gaze heavy-lidded, caught between the intensity of his touch and the overwhelming desire she felt for him. She could see the darkness in his eyes grow deeper with each taste, his hunger mirroring her own, and it only made her body ache for him more.

Zara's chest rose and fell with each sharp breath, her body trembling from the intensity of Marcus's touch. Every stroke of his tongue seemed to reach deeper, further, until her thoughts were nothing but fragmented moans and desperate pleas. She could feel herself unraveling, but the way he looked at her—his eyes wild with want, focused solely on her—was enough to keep her grounded in the moment.

" Oh baby..." Her voice cracked, a wave of pleasure building inside her, threatening to swallow her whole.

He responded with a low growl, the vibration of it sending shockwaves through her. His tongue flicked faster, more insistently, teasing and coaxing her closer to the edge. Zara's fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him to take her higher.

"Cum for me mama" he commanded, his voice thick with desire. "Be a good girl for me.."

His words, rough and possessive, were the final push she needed. With a sharp gasp, her body seized, her legs trembling as the orgasm hit her with force. She cried out his name, her back arching off the bed as she lost herself completely to the pleasure. Her hands gripped the sheets, her body writhing as waves of sensation washed over her.

Marcus didn't stop. He continued to lick her through the aftershocks, his tongue still tracing every sensitive spot with precision, as if he couldn't get enough.

Zara's body was trembling, her legs trembling around his shoulders, but she couldn't bring herself to stop him. She was addicted to the way he made her feel—like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Finally, he lifted his head, his lips glistening with her, a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His eyes were dark, hooded with the intensity of his desire, but there was also something else—something that hinted at the control he was holding back.

"Taste like mangos," he whispered, his voice low and husky.

Zara met his gaze, her body still recovering from the intensity of her orgasm, but she could feel the fire building again. "Can I get a taste please? " she teased, her voice thick with lust.

Without a word, Marcus kissed her deeply, pulling her close as he positioned himself over her. His hands roamed down her body, exploring the curves and dips that drove him wild.

Zara's hands moved feverishly over Marcus's chest, her nails grazing the taut muscles beneath his smooth, heated skin. She could feel the raw power of his body, the restrained strength he carried so effortlessly. His lips crushed against hers, swallowing her moans as his fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her head back to expose the delicate line of her throat. He nipped at the sensitive skin there, his teeth grazing just enough to make her shiver.

With a firm tug, he undid his belt, the metallic clink loud in the quiet room. He pushed his jeans and boxers down, his thick, aching arousal springing free. Zara's eyes widened briefly as she caught sight of him, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. He smirked, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead before gripping her waist and flipping her over onto her stomach.

"Arch," he commanded, his tone dark and commanding. Zara obeyed instantly, pushing her hips upward, her back curving in a way that had Marcus sucking in a sharp breath. The sight of her—completely bare, her skin flushed, and her glistening folds exposed to him—was almost too much.

"Look at you," he muttered, dragging his palm over the curve of her ass before landing a sharp smack on her right cheek. The sound echoed through the room, and Zara let out a gasp, the sting sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her core.

Marcus ran his fingers over her slick entrance, spreading her wetness along her folds. He teased her mercilessly, rubbing the swollen bud of her clit in slow, deliberate circles before letting his fingers slip inside her. "You so fucking wet," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "You gon' take all this dick like the pretty little slut you are?"

Zara moaned in response, her hips bucking against his hand. He pulled his fingers out, gripping her hips tightly as he positioned himself behind her. The head of his dick pressed against her entrance, stretching her as he pushed in slowly, inch by inch.

"Fuck," Marcus groaned, his voice thick as he felt her walls clamp down around him. "So fucking tight Z."

Zara let out a muffled whimper, burying her face in the mattress as she adjusted to his size. The stretch was overwhelming, but the slow burn only added to the pleasure. "Marcus..." she moaned, her voice shaky.

"I know, baby," he rasped, gripping her hips harder as he pushed in deeper. He paused for a moment once he was fully seated inside her, letting her adjust. But his patience didn't last long. Pulling back, he slammed into her with a force that had her gasping, her body jolting forward from the impact.

"Take it," he growled, his voice low and commanding. He set a brutal pace, his hips snapping against hers with an intensity that left her breathless. The sound of their skin slapping together filled the room, mingling with her cries and his deep, guttural groans.

Zara tried to move her hand to push against his stomach, seeking a moment of reprieve from his relentless thrusts. Marcus noticed instantly. "Move yo' hand, Z," he barked, his tone leaving no room for argument.

When she didn't comply, he grabbed her wrist, pinning it behind her back. "Didn't I say move yo' fucking hand?" he growled, his free hand tangling in her curls. He yanked her head back, forcing her to look at him over her shoulder. "Stop fucking playin' with me."

She whimpered, her lips parted as she struggled to form coherent words. All she could do was nod, her body trembling beneath him as he drove into her harder.

Marcus adjusted his angle, pulling her hips higher so he could hit even deeper. Each thrust was precise, aimed directly at her g-spot. Zara's cries turned to screams as he pounded into her without mercy, her body quaking as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.

"You sorry?," he groaned, his grip tightening on her waist. He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back as his hand slipped between her thighs. His fingers found her clit again, rubbing harsh circles in time with his thrusts. "Cum for me, Z mama. Give it to me."

Zara's body tensed, her walls clamping down around him as she cried out, "Yes! I'm so sorry. So fucking sorry! Marcusssss!" Her voice was ragged, her head dropping as her entire body convulsed with the force of her orgasm.

But Marcus wasn't done with her. He didn't slow down, his thrusts only growing rougher as he chased his own release. "You' ain sorry.. I'm make you be sorry." he muttered, his voice dark and laced with promise.

He pulled out suddenly, flipping her onto her back before sliding into her again. Zara's eyes rolled back as he hit her even deeper from this angle, her legs wrapping around his waist as he pinned her wrists above her head.

"Look at me," he demanded, his voice a low growl. Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his intense gaze. "This my pussy?" he asked, slamming into her with such force that the headboard banged against the wall.

Zara's body arched beneath him, another orgasm ripping through her before she could stop it. "Yes baby, it's yours!" she screamed, her nails digging into his shoulders as her body shook violently.

Marcus gritted his teeth, his thrusts becoming erratic as he felt his own release building. He buried himself inside her one last time, groaning her name as he came, his body shuddering against hers.

For a moment, the room was silent except for their ragged breathing. Marcus pressed a soft kiss to her lips, a stark contrast to the roughness of their coupling.

"You're mine, Z mama." he whispered again, his voice softer now but no less possessive. "Can't nobody take me away from you.."

Zara nodded weakly, her body still trembling as she clung to him. Little did she know, the night was far from over. Marcus wasn't finished proving just how much she belonged to him.

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