Sex in the Hood Saga (35 page)

Her hot, hungry pussy was poised over Knight's giant dick. This was the moment in life that The Queen loved. This intense anticipation of being just an inch away from fucking scored a close second place to the actual orgasm, and the shit was so good with him, he could make her cum with one stroke.

Right now, in the candlelit master suite of the yacht, she was focused on Knight as she squatted above his massive lead rod, ready to fit herself on it with the perfect grip, then slide down and ride.

She loved to look into his onyx eyes, as her pussy sucked him inside to stroke her soul. She could feel the love and lust burning in her gaze as she stared into his eyes.

But his mind was a million miles away. He was thinking about Babylon, and money and safety and security and other cities and whether Duke was about to sneak into D-town to try and take Babylon back.

All that sexercise she was getting at the Babylon gym had strengthened her quadriceps to the point that she could pump down on him for hours if she wanted to without getting tired or feeling that burn in her muscles that once forced her to stop when she was on top. No, tonight she would do all the work to soothe his mind, body and spirit with supersonic sex and lobotomizing lovemaking.

“Knight, baby,” The Queen whispered as she squatted over him, “you stressin'; don't be thinkin' business when you gettin' booty.”

Knight laced his fingers with hers. He was lying on the king-sized bed on the white, 500-thread-count Egyptian sheets.

The yacht rocked gently, the silence between R. Kelly's best love songs allowing them to hear the soft slosh of water against the hull. Knight squeezed tight; his fingers were so long they covered the backs of her hands and reached the tops of her wrists. “That was a close call tonight with Flame,” Knight said. “Got me thinking about—”

“Oh, man,” she groaned. The Queen didn't want to hear anything about thinking. She wanted to hear the sloshy, slurpy sounds of fucking.

She gently sat on his rock-hard stomach, leaning forward and “pooting” her ass back as if she were sitting on his motorcycle, her steamy, wet pussy creaming all over his hot stomach.

“Oooh, baby girl,” he said playfully, “you sure know how to change a man's train of thought.”

She ground her hips just enough to make her cherry-sized clit slip into his innie belly button. The sensation sent an erotic ripple up through her core that exploded on her skin. Her nipples hardened, lips parted, and her eyes burned down lustfully at him.

Shane's giant head whipped up against the soft curve of her bare ass.

She leaned down to kiss him. ““Mmmm.” God couldn't have made a more perfect fit for two pairs of lips.

She loved the way his lips were always so hot and soft, so inviting, so nurturing; even a quick peck promised a lifetime of love.

Right now, though, Knight pulled back. Her lips felt cold and abandoned as his beautiful genie eyes sparkled up at her. Something in them glinted like he'd seen something bad and couldn't shake it from his mind.

“Knight, baby, what's wrong?” She ran her fingertips with a feather soft touch over the sculpted planes of his gorgeous face. “This is our one year anniversary. We should be celebrating.”

But Knight's laptop full of work, plus his four guns on the dresser, and the way he kept looking toward the bedroom door here on the yacht, let her know something was wrong.

“Baby, you been so paranoid lately,” she said softly. “Like, we were s'posed to take a ride on the Sea Ray tonight; then you all of a sudden switched it to the yacht.”

“More luxurious accommodations for my Queen,” Knight said, kissing her forehead.

“That sounds real nice, but you ain't bein' straight-up.”

“Baby girl,” Knight whispered, staring intensely up into her eyes, “you know I love you to infinity.”

The Queen's insides melted. His voice was so deep and sexy. “Yeah,” she cooed. “Say it again.”

“I love you to infinity.”

She closed her eyes, letting his deep voice vibrate through her chest, then come to rest in her heart. She inhaled his delicious scent, his Black Cashmere cologne, and the gardenia scented candles glowing around the cabin.

“Baby girl?” His expression was different than any she'd seen on his face.

She drew her eyebrows together and asked, “You didn't meditate today, did you? You got your karma all twisted around. And you look pale.”

Knight touched his fingertips to her jaw. He gently pulled her down for another kiss, but she pulled away.

“What's wrong, Knight? You know if something happens to you, I'll just die.”

Knight shook his head, but his gaze softened as if he loved hearing this declaration of her love. Then, with a tone half playful, half somber, he asked, “So if I dropped dead right now, what would you do?”

The Queen tapped her fingertip to his nose and said matter-of-factly, “I'd strap myself to your big fine ass, drag us out that door to the water”—she pointed to the French doors leading to the boat's sports deck—“and I'd slide us both into that black infinity forever.”

Knight covered her cheeks with feather soft kisses.

His comfort felt so good, it made her lips part. A soft moan escaped up from her soul. Because this tenderness was love. He pressed his hot cheek to hers; she put her hand on the back of his satin smooth head and stroked softly. “Baby girl, I think you played Juliet in the school play one too many times. And this Romeo ain't goin' nowhere. I'm yours for life.”

“Life,” The Queen whispered. “You
are
my life.”

“My Queen.” His hot breath tickled her ear. “We have what every other man and woman on the planet dreams about. And I'll fight to the death to make you always feel like my Queen.”

She pressed a finger to his full lips. “Ssshhh. Let's celebrate.” His face was so beautiful, and the emotion radiating from it was so intense, she felt dizzy. Without him, she had no one. Two dead parents. A brother who had disappeared when they got split up a year ago, and her look alike, older sister, Melanie, who had chosen a convent instead of life in the hood with Gramma Green.

He's trying to tell you something serious,
Celeste said,
something that will change your life.

Her heart pounded with that same panicky feeling when she'd lost all the people who were supposed to love her, in the space of a day. She remembered how she felt when her boyfriend and so called best friend, Tiffany, turned their backs on her and cut her off like she never existed.

Suddenly her whole body burned with the anger, betrayal, disappointment, and sadness that she had stuffed down for the past year. Everyone she had known and loved had abandoned her, tossing her out like a pretty doll that had suddenly been ruined by a big, ugly smudge of dirt. Worthless. Disgusting. Black.

Here at Babylon, and in Knight's bed, she had found amazing love that she thought could make up for all the pain she'd endured.

The Queen shook her head, to exorcise those emotional demons from her past. Why did she have this sudden terror of rejection? Had he discovered something awful about her, and now it was time to trade her in for a blacker model? He was always talking about The Prince Code, how number one was trust no one. Should she not trust him, and did he not trust her? Was one of those scheming bitches who were always putting their panties in his pocket or blowing up his phone or sticking their titties in his face actually succeeding in stealing her man? Could that be why, despite all his deep declarations of loving her forever, she was getting the same vibe that he was about to cut her off?

The Queen had often wondered, if he could come in and do his little brother the way he did, could he be that ruthless to his woman too? And with the long line of pussy constantly trying to hook him, maybe it was time they had a conversation. Perhaps it was time for Alice to pop a little pink pill marked “Reality” to end this Ghettoland fantasy that she was loving so much. But the white Wonderland that she'd wished for a year ago no longer appealed to her. She had faded to black and dropped off the world's radar by slipping into an urban underworld.
And I love it.

Yet in her mind, she could hear Daddy warning in his deep but gentle voice. “If something seems too good to be true, then you can be sure that it is.”

The Queen slid off Knight's stomach, stood beside the bed, and turned on the lamp on the nightstand.

“If you're about to break up with me,” The Queen said, glaring down at Knight as he shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, “then I might as well go jump in the Detroit River. My life here with you is everything, Knight Johnson. And—”

“Baby girl!” his voice bellowed like the fog horn on a passing tanker ship. He reached for her hands. “How'd you jump from
A
to cra-Z-y with one glance?”

She snatched her hands back and squeezed the tears from her eyes. “Don't call me crazy! If you went through what I—”

Knight shook his head. “Baby girl, stop. You're still hurting; you're afraid to trust even now.”

She crossed her arms. Her mind fast forwarded through all her options if she were to leave right now. Her plan to attend the University of Michigan was impossible. One flash of her social security number in their computer system, and the feds would eat her for lunch.

Her lifestyle, her money, it was all through Babylon. Plus, this wasn't the kind of work where you finish your contract and move on to the next company. Who knew what had happened to that ho, Janelle, last year who dared scheme against Duke?

And Milan. Duke made his own baby momma, wicked as she was, marry his back-stabbing boy, Beamer. Then when Duke disappeared and Knight took charge, Knight sent the two of them off to some brothel in Mexico. Duke's children, however, little Zeus and Hercules, plus his three other kids, were on the East Coast at a boarding school that Knight financed, to keep his blood safe while they got educations far away from Duke's drama.

Plus, The Queen realized, she knew way too much. She knew about the money, the Caribbean accounts, the laundering through the catering company and the security business. Her mind was a virtual file cabinet of the men and women who worked as prostitutes and gigolos for Babylon. And worse, she had a mental Rolodex of all the folks who solicited their services, from city officials to business people to celebrities to just plain married muthafuckas tryin' to get some extra booty.

“My queen,” Knight whispered, grasping her trembling shoulders, “I see a hurricane tearin' you up inside. C'mon, Tinkerbell, sprinkle some of your magic pixie dust on those worries.” He pulled her close.

Oh my God.
She nestled into the soft spot at the core of his being, his solar plexus, where the round curves of his pecks came together to form a little indention that was a perfect fit for her hot cheek. But the better place was his neck.
Yeah, his neck is my Nirvana.

“Are you alive?” she giggled into his neck. “How come I can never feel your pulse in your neck?”

Knight stiffened. “My resting heart rate is slow, almost silent, because I'm so in shape; my heart is conditioned to stay on reserve.”

“It scares the hell outta me,” The Queen said softly. “My big strong warrior should have a heartbeat that pounds like a Bang Squad song.”

Knight let out a low, sexy laugh as he ran his fingertips over her nipples. They immediately stood at attention and sent an electric jolt down to her pussy.

“It will be bangin' in a minute.”

The Queen nestled her face deeper into his neck. “Mmmmm . . . this is where I belong. Nowhere else. Ever.”

Knight kissed the top of her head. “That's my baby girl. And to prove it,” he whispered, his eyes sparkling down on her like black diamonds as he reached behind his back, “I have this for you.”

He took her left hand. Whatever he was about to slip on her ring finger, she couldn't see it. He blocked it under his fingertips as it slid on. Then, in one smooth move, he bent down on one knee.

“The Queen. My queen,” Knight said with a deep, quaking voice. He pulled back his hand to reveal the ring. “Be my partner in life, here on earth and in eternity, as my wife.”

The sound that came up out of The Queen's soul was a blend of a shriek, a cry, a sob, and a purr. He held his open palms under her hand, framing her caramel fingers with his huge, dark hands.

“I feel dizzy,” she said, sinking back onto the soft bed, where the silky gold spread caressed her bare ass. She sat upright, facing him. But he was still so tall, just kneeling, that she had to look up into his eyes, their onyx sparkle even more brilliant than the incredible diamond on her finger. She gasped. “Oh my God, Knight, always look at me like that.”

He leaned close with parted lips. She leaned forward with an open mouth. And like two, one of a kind puzzle pieces, their lips locked with perfect precision. Intense heat fused them together. And the power of that union sent electric jolts through her every cell that ricocheted back to make pink and purple bolts of lightning behind her closed eyelids.

“Promise you'll always kiss me like this.”