"Twice I turn my back on you
I fell flat on my face but didn't lose
Tell me where would I go
Tell me what led you on I'd love to know
Was it the blue night
Gone fragile
Was it about the men
In wonder steady gone under
Was it the light ways
So frightening
Was it two wills
One mirror holding us dearer now…"
Little Dragon – "Twice"
"Have a seat."
Her voice sounded so benign. Soft. Almost shy speaking to him after so much time between them. She flipped on the lights in the room and saw that she left the curtains wide open. She rushed over to close them as he took a seat at the desk chair that faced the bed. It was the only real seat in the hotel room.
"Do you mind if I take off my coat?" he asked.
"Go ahead," she said stepping away from him, keeping some distance between him.
Slipping out of his dark overcoat and suit jacket, N'Jobu watched her carefully, his face warm and inviting. She couldn't get over how the gold slugs on his teeth made him seem larger than life when he spoke.
"I need to take a shower real fast. I'm really sweaty. Give me a few minutes to handle that and change. We can talk right after that," she said reaching into the hotel drawer and pulling out a t-shirt and some thin sweatpants. She rummaged for some clean underwear.
"Take your time. I'm not in any rush."
She nodded and plodded over to the bathroom and closed the door. She ran the shower and let the hot steam envelop her before she even took her clothes off.
Weird.
It just felt weird. Odd. Surreal even.
He was out there. In the flesh. She could reach out and touch him. How many nights, weeks, months had she longed for that? All the crying she had done over him just wishing and hoping she could see him again and now here she was, hiding in the bathroom, too skittish to be in the same room with him again.
She stepped into the shower and adjusted the high-spraying shower nozzle, setting it to pulse so that the hot water soothed her frayed nerves. She shampooed her scalp with the rose-scented hotel two-in-one shampoo and conditioner. She scrubbed up and rinsed quickly, drying off slowly, watching her face in the mirror that was covered with condensation. She wiped it with her hand, debating if she should put on any make-up. She opted for a light lip balm and just slathered herself with an unscented lotion.
Slipping into her make-shift pajamas, she took three deep breaths and placed her hands on the sink counter. She wished Bakari hadn't said anything. If she had to talk to him, she wanted to reveal what she wanted to reveal. Or not. But now he was out there thinking she had the baby.
She would tell him everything…as much as she could handle. She would not sugar-coat it or try to stop herself from feeling fully any emotions that came back up, even if anger rose high and took over. She was ready to unload the burden. She set her hand on the doorknob then paused.
Push through it, she told herself.
She entered back into the room and sat on the bed facing him.
His face was expectant.
"I found out I was pregnant weeks after you left. My doctor thought it was a combination of me taking medicine when I was sick and the herbal supplements I used for stress that messed up my birth control. I…there were some complications…I had an ectopic pregnancy. The baby was growing inside my fallopian tube instead of my uterus. We tried using medication to um… take care of it naturally… but I had to have surgery to terminate it. I tried reaching you when I thought I could have the baby. Your Embassy, your social media…I reached out to people who I thought could help me. I got your postcard, but there was no return address. I didn't know what else to do. You just vanished. But it didn't matter after the surgery…"
She watched his face as she told him the facts. She saw his demeanor shift from thinking he was a father to a somber absorption of her loss.
"Are you okay? Are you…are you able to have more children?"
His voice went soft, almost hollow on the last two words.
"I've been listed as a high-risk for future pregnancies. I was very lucky. They were able to save my tube. They say I can have children, but there may be risks, the potential for other ectopic pregnancies to occur."
His eyes went downcast and he clasped his hands together.
"Califia, I didn't know. I didn't know. When I left, all of my personal info was wiped clean. For my protection. Now that you know who I really am, I hope you can understand why—"
"I get it. I really do. I used to think your family life sounded so rigid and so old-fashioned…but now…well, no wonder. You're royalty. A real-life Prince Charming. We never really had a chance, did we?"
"Califia—"
"I just really really needed you, N'Jobu. And you weren't there…"
N'Jobu kneeled before her and clasped her hands in his. His face mere inches from her face.
"I am sorry. Baby…please…forgive me. You went through something life-threatening and painful, and I had no idea it was happening—"
Califia pressed her forehead into his and stroked the back of his neck.
"I just needed you. I was so scared. It might have been easier to go through if you were here with me—"
"…so sorry, baby—"
"That baby was the only thing I had left of you…of us…"
Califia balled her hands into fists and pressed them into his shoulders.
"…they cut me and took everything away—"
N'Jobu gently pushed Califia back onto the bed and he curled up next to her placing her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her. Her body was taut until he stroked her back and she relaxed into his touch. He pulled her in tighter and her t-shirt rode up a bit. She tried to pull it back down quickly, but he saw the markings of the tattoo on her belly.
He eased a finger down to touch the line of the tattoo and she tensed.
"Please, let me see," he said.
Califia closed her eyes and he pulled her shirt higher.
"This is a manta ray…stingray?" he said. She nodded.
He touched part of the skin that was scar tissue from the surgery. He eased her more onto her back so that he could see the other scar and his breath caught in his throat. He touched the scar tissue on her right side, the ink of the tattoo making the script written there vivid. His eyes sought hers and she saw a sadness there. It was his name. The Wakandan script was an exact replica of his handwriting. The only time he had written his name that way was in the letter he left for her.
He moved down her side and pressed his lips into her skin where she had his name. Califia held her breath as she felt his lips touch her, the warmth of his kiss causing her to release tears she had been holding back. Her body trembled and she felt his lips curl on her belly, and then she felt wetness dropping onto her stomach. He was crying.
She moved a hand to stroke his hair, her fingers circling his scalp in light touches. He rested his head on her stomach and she could feel his chest heaving with gentle sobs.
Her own hot tears rolled down her face, but there were no heavy sobs from her. She had done that long ago.
###
For several hours they held each other on the bed.
Occasionally they would shift their bodies to press themselves closer together and then N'Jobu pulled her on top of him so that her head rested under his neck and he could run his hands up and down her back. When the fingers of his left hand trailed lazily up her arm, she reached for it and touched the ring on his finger.
"Do you and your wife have children?"
She held her breath, bracing herself for the answer.
"I am not married yet. And no, I don't have any children."
She lifted up and looked into his face.
"But that woman—"
"My fiancé."
"Oh."
She rested her head back on him.
"Do you love her?"
"Zinzi is beautiful. Kind. Intelligent. A good friend. But no, I do not love her in that way…"
She held her breath waiting for him to say more but the hotel phone rang.
"Don't answer it," he said.
The phone rang five times and then Califia's cell buzzed in her purse on the nightstand.
"It's probably Albert," she said, regretting saying his name in front of N'Jobu again.
"Is he really your man?"
"We knew each other a long time ago. Just re-connected recently."
"That didn't answer my question."
"No."
"Good."
She felt herself smirk.
"He seems full of himself," he said.
"Like someone else I know," she said.
She felt him chuckle, the rumble of his voice soothing to her ears.
"He couldn't keep his hands off of you."
"We're just having fun."
"Do you like him a lot?"
"I do."
She felt N'Jobu sigh heavily and his right hand rubbed small circles in her lower back.
"You look happy, Califia. I'm glad."
"My life has turned out well. I love my teaching job. I finally have my own place. My Dad is out of prison. Soliel and I started a non-profit that is slowly coming together. I'm good. Really good."
"I knew you would be."
"What about you?"
His hands rose up to stroke her shoulders.
"My military career has gone well. I am a Lieutenant now and I'm thinking of extending my time as a pilot—"
"When are you getting married?"
"I really don't—"
"Is she in love with you?"
"She is in love with another man. We both are stuck in this arrangement."
"She looks like she's in love with you…the way she was holding you when you walked into the banquet, and when you left. You two look good together."
Califia felt her lip tremble as she spoke. She pulled a hand in tight against his chest.
The hotel phone rang again.
"He's anxious," N'Jobu said.
Califia rolled over and took the call.
"Hello—"
"Is he still there?" Albert said.
"We are still talking," she said shifting her legs over the side of the bed. She could feel N'Jobu sitting up against the headboard.
"How much longer will he be there?"
"I told you I would call you when I was done. I'm okay, Albert."
"The moment he leaves, you call me."
She hung up the phone. She could already see the rays of the sun peeking through the small break in the curtains.
"He's ready for me to go," N'Jobu said.
"Yeah," she said, not looking at him.
"It's probably best if I leave then. I don't want to cause you any problems, Califia."
She heard him lift off the bed and move over to the desk chair.
This was it. A brief reconciliation, a dispensing of information, and then he would be going back to Wakanda. She turned her head to watch him as he pulled on his suit jacket and overcoat. Zinzi was probably waiting for him, lying in some big bed, expecting him to waltz into the room and crawl in next to her. Califia felt her throat tighten.
He walked over to her side of the bed. She closed her eyes. She had to know.
"Do you still love me?" she said. Her breath was soft. The words came out like a prayer.
He didn't answer her question and she let out a shaky exhale. She lowered her head. Felt his hand clasp hers. She opened her eyes and looked up at him.
"You never have to ask that, Califia," he said pulling her up onto her feet.
He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her head against his chest.
"I never stopped," he said. He tilted up her chin, forcing her to look at him.
She wanted to kiss him. Wanted him to kiss her.
She heard her cell phone vibrate again. Albert.
An ache bloomed in her chest and she felt torn. She was glad she finally had the opportunity to let him know what had happened to her when he left. Her heart felt lighter sharing the experience with him. But she also knew that lingering with him would only entice her to go further with him, maybe even become physical, and that would be a difficult thing to shake off once he left the country. It was best to say goodbye and leave it all to rest for good. Just go to Albert's room and sleep and be at peace with the fact that N'Jobu still loved her.
"You still love me, Califia?"
She threw her arms around his neck and thrust her lips onto his mouth, his beard tickling her chin as she slipped her tongue inside his mouth. She felt him groan and he lifted her up, their lips fused together, her heart pounding in her chest. She ran her tongue along the gold on his bottom teeth.
He pulled away first to catch his breath and her lips fought to be pressed back against his mouth. He kissed her cheeks, her forehead, and her chin, then suckled her neck, remembering the sensitive places on her skin.
"Bay-bee…" she gasped and she felt his body go taut. He whispered in her ear.
"Go get all your things. Come back to my hotel room with me."
She arched her neck, needing his lips to be back on her.
"But Zinzi—"
"She has her own suite on a different floor. She is with her lover. Be with me. Please."
He set her back down on her feet.
"I don't know, N'Jobu—"
"I may never see you again. Just let me hold you for a few more hours."
He pressed his forehead back into hers.
"Please…" he whispered.
The heat in his pleading made her knees weak. She held his face and returned her lips to their rightful place on his. She led him back to her bed and pushed him down as she crawled back on top of him. Their lips met once more as their tongues delved into one another's mouths. She found herself nipping at his lips, trying to taste and tame his lushness. In their past she had always let him take over the kissing, submitting to his claims on her. But this time, as her teeth grazed his lower lip and tugged on the sensitive skin there, she wanted to let him know how much she missed this, how much she needed this…needed him. The hairs on his beard brushed her gently as he abandoned his need to control her probing mouth and tongue. She felt him encourage her plundering, his hands supporting the back of her neck, soft moans spilling from his throat when she allowed them to come up for air. She could kiss him forever. And it felt like forever until her hotel phone rang again.
Irritated, N'Jobu lifted up and over, his hand reaching for the phone as she continued kissing him.
"Don't…just let it ring…" she murmured, drowning herself within his mouth.
N'Jobu tossed the receiver onto the floor and moved his hands around her waist as she licked the shell of his ear.
A heavy knocking at her door shattered their intense kissing soon after.
"Califia!"
Shit. Albert.
Califia lifted back from N'Jobu, but he held her waist firmly and pulled her back on top of him.
"I have to talk to him," she said, her mouth feeling tingly and her brain a little woozy from all the heady lip play. N'Jobu bit at her lips, tugging the soft flesh and bending it to his will.
"You told him you would contact him when you were ready," N'Jobu said. She sensed the bitter tone.
"Let me speak to him and I'll make him leave…N'Jobu! Wait a minute, let me do it—"
N'Jobu lifted her up and placed her aside as he stood up from the bed and moved to the door. She jumped off the bed and followed behind him.
N'Jobu flung open the door and Califia could see Albert still wearing his clothes from their night out dancing. His eyes looked a bit blood-shot and his face was pinched with anger. He looked surprised to see N'Jobu answering the door.
Califia saw N'Jobu twist one of his beads on his arm, those pretty black and purple beads that made up that bracelet he always wore.
Albert ignored N'Jobu and stared at her.
"How much longer is this going to be?"
"Albert, don't do this. He's an old friend—"
"Can't you show her some respect?" N'Jobu interjected.
Albert turned his red-rimmed eyes on N'Jobu.
"How about you show us both some respect by understanding boundaries," Albert spat, poking N'Jobu in the chest. The way his words slurred, Califia knew he must've gotten into the complimentary hotel wine.
N'Jobu stared at Albert as if he had just lost his mind and shoved Albert back.
"N'Jobu, don't—"
Albert lunged again and N'Jobu yanked the front of Albert's shirt with his hands and lifted him on his toes.
N'Jobu's two guards seemed to materialize out of nowhere and pulled Albert away from him. They released him and stood in front of N'Jobu, blocking Albert's access to them both.
Albert stared at Califia and his eyes drifted down to her t-shirt, the form-fitting material cinched around her breasts. Her cheeks flamed up a bit. He was looking at her nipples. They were stiff and poking out in a not so subtle fashion. His gaze lifted up and landed on her lips which were obviously wet and swollen from kissing N'Jobu for such a long time. She was glad N'Jobu had on dark clothing because the erection she felt while she was on top of him would embarrass her if Albert or the guards noticed it.
"You're about to fuck him, aren't you?"
"Albert! Stop!" she yelled.
"Get your things," N'Jobu said gently pushing her back into the room.
"Don't hurt him," she pleaded.
"Califia!" Albert tried to break past the guards but they lifted him up by his arms and carried him back down to his room. N'Jobu stood at the door as his guards handled the intrusion. His eyes glanced back at her. His desire was unspoken, but she felt it in his gaze. He wanted her with him. And she wanted to go.
She went into the bathroom and gathered up her toiletries. She wasted no time taking things out of the drawers and stuffing them into her suitcase.
N'Jobu spoke to his guards in Wakandan and the one with the gap in her teeth walked in and picked up Califia's bag for her.
"I will have to go on ahead of you, but Ometeko will bring you to me," he said. He reached out for her hand and stroked his thumb on her index finger.
"Okay," she said. She put on a light hoodie and slipped her sneakers on without socks. He kissed her cheek.
"I will see you soon," he said leaving with the other guard.
Califia grabbed her purse and took out her cell. She texted Albert a short message. He probably wouldn't speak to her ever again. She couldn't help herself. It would be easier to beg forgiveness from Albert later than to not go with this man before her.
"Come," Ometeko said, holding Califia's belongings.
Califia followed Ometeko down the hallway. When they passed by Albert's room, Califia turned her head away. She felt like a thief in the night slipping away from a crime scene. On the elevator Ometeko stayed quiet, barely looking at Califia. Once they reached the lobby, Califia left her key card at the front desk.
Ometeko hailed a cab and rode in the backseat with her. Inside the Renaissance Hotel, Califia followed the guard onto the private elevator that led to the VIP floors. They reached the top floor and Ometeko led Califia to N'Jobu's suite.
Ometeko didn't knock on the door. She walked away from it and a few seconds later, N'Jobu was greeting her.
"Come in," he said grabbing her luggage.
She walked into the terrace suite. It was befitting of a Prince. N'Jobu placed her bag inside a closet where he hung up his overcoat and suit jacket.
"Go get comfortable, it's my turn to freshen up," he said smiling at her.
"Okay."
She watched him walk into a bathroom. She spun around to check out the rest of the room and opted to step outside to enjoy the early morning breeze. There was a nice patio set up with leather chairs and glass tables. Waiting for N'Jobu, she watched the sky curled up on a chaise lounge chair. She heard movement inside the suite and she turned her head in time to see N'Jobu pulling on a pair of light cotton pants. When he turned toward the patio, she turned her head back toward the sky. He walked out onto the patio to be with her.
"I'm trying to get used to seeing you with a beard," she said.
He stroked his face.
"You don't like it?"
"It's different."
"Like your hair…"
"You don't like it this short?"
"It looks amazing. You look amazing."
"Thank you. I like the teeth," she said staring at his gold slugs again. She tried to imagine him biting her like he used to. What kind of marks would those teeth make now?
He sat on the lounge chair next to hers and they talked for a bit. Catching up on old friends. Serah had married her fiancé Addae and they were living in London. Serah landed a job at the British Museum. It wasn't Paris like she wanted, but it was actually a better move for her career. Rolita was doing a successful music festival run and was preparing to open for a huge Australian band on a twenty-city tour. Soliel and Negra Li were thriving in São Paolo, in fact, Negra Li was considering running for political office on her city council. And Bakari was about to finish law school and take the bar to become the lawyer he was meant to be. Following in his parent's footsteps.
"The best for last," she said reaching for her cell. She showed him pictures of her father.
"He looks healthy and happy," N'Jobu said swiping through several candid shots of Dante with her grandmother.
"This is a nice one," he said lingering over a picture of Califia with her father frying shrimp together. Califia is holding a fat greasy beer-batter fried prawn over her father's mouth which is wide open.
"He's doing great. He works for the Boys and Girls Club near Nana's house. Runs the janitorial crew. And he's teaching capoeira with me. He even has a girlfriend," she said giggling.
"Really?"
"Yeah. She's a nice lady. A recent widow. They met out on the Pier."
"I am happy for you both. Is your grandmother well?"
"She is. Her eyes are getting a little bad, but she still runs the roost."
N'Jobu spoke of T'Challa and showed Califia the photo he always carried with him of his nephew.
"He's so big now!" Califia said staring at the printed photo.
"Three years old, but the smarts of an eight-year-old. He's a good boy. Growing strong—"
N'Jobu's voice wavered and Califia looked up from the picture in her hand to stare at N'Jobu.
"Hey," she said, putting the picture down.
She saw N'Jobu bite down on his bottom lip. Then he gave a long exhale. He stood up and put his hands on his hips.
"N'Jobu?"
"How about I order us some room service? A nice breakfast, and then we can catch up some more?"
"Sure, that sounds cool," she said.
"I'll be back," he said.
He left her to go back inside the suite. She heard him on the hotel phone choosing all the things he knew she liked. She was hungry, but it felt to her that N'Jobu needed to do something as a distraction. Something had jumped into his mind and bothered him.
She looked at T'Challa's picture again. Such a cute little boy. He looked like his father the King.
She strolled back into the suite just as N'Jobu was hanging up the phone.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes."
"It looked like something was bothering you out there."
"I'm just…I'm still trying to process the fact that I'm here with you."
"I know how you feel."
"Come here…"
He held out his hand to her and she took it. He pulled her further into the suite and led her to the bedroom. She felt the excitement of being with him again as well as the inevitable crash of energy as her body began to give in to the fatigue of the previous day. The sun was up but her physical need to rest was catching up to her.
He pulled back the covers of the bed and helped her get in. He slipped in next to her and pulled her closer.
"Go to sleep. I know you're tired. I can see it in your eyes," he said.
"I am."
"I'll put the food on hold until later," he said.
He kissed her forehead and held her. It didn't take long for her eyes to droop and then close.
###
N'Jobu felt overwhelmed being with her again. He tried his best to mask his nervousness by staying upbeat, but his emotions were all over the place.
When he first walked into her hotel room all he could think of was that she had a baby all by herself and he wanted to see what their child looked like. He wanted to hold their child and discover the wonder they had created together. When she told him of the ectopic pregnancy, he felt his mind go blank and a creeping sorrow entered his heart. She was willing to raise his child by herself just to have a part of him near her. And it was taken away.
He thought his heart would burst when he saw that she had tattooed his name on one of her surgery scars, a permanent reminder of what they had lost. He thought he would spend the whole night crying on her, but then she spoke of Zinzi and asked him about his love for her.
They both seemed to be cautious about being together again and yet yearning to know how the other felt. His hands and fingers itched to touch her in so many ways, but he only wanted to follow her lead. He wasn't sure if she wanted any physical contact with him. But when she kissed him first, he felt free to touch her once more.
Holding her in the bed all he wanted to do was listen to her breathe and feel her heart beating next to his once more. If that was all she wanted from him, then he would give her that.
She fell asleep fast, and he found himself drifting in and out of sleep, scared that if he fell too deeply into dreamland, she would disappear from his arms.
When he had shown the picture of T'Challa to her and she had said that he looked like his father, T'Chaka, N'Jobu felt the loss of their baby poke at him. He felt like he was about to cry and bit his lip to stop himself. A part of him felt like he had no right to cry over their baby. She was the one who suffered. She was the one who had to go through the mental anguish of deciding to keep the baby and not abort it. She was the one who had to go through the trauma of surgery and physical healing all alone. He had done nothing. Just impregnated her and disappeared. Who was he to cry? He felt so much guilt and so much shame, and yet he was ready to cry because his brother was able to see his own son, was able to hold his own baby and watch him grow. And he could not. But he wanted to.
What he wouldn't give to walk into her hotel room and see his child in her arms. He imagined the sight of her breastfeeding, looking up into his eyes and saying, "Here, come see your son," or maybe, "Look at your daughter, so picky and fussy like you."
Did he even have the right to feel like a hole was opening up in his heart? A hole that only a child with her could fill? That feeling made him leave the patio to get away from T'Challa's picture. He needed the distraction of room service to stop his eyes from watering in front of her.
He felt envy steeping inside of his spirit. He could've been a father too. Legitimate or not, he almost had his own family. And it was hurting him being with her like that, knowing there was nothing he could do to change the outcome for her or for himself. Bast was known to open and close doors for reasons beyond human comprehension, and N'Jobu wanted to trust that his fate with Califia could be manifested for their greater good together. He desperately wanted to believe that. But this loss of life weakened him.
When he laid eyes on her in the banquet hall it had to be the hand of Bast guiding them back together. It had to be. He would will it until it was so.
Here she was. Lying next to him once more.
When he was able to go to sleep, his body relaxed and felt at ease, something it had been unable to do for a long time. The tension he held by being back in the states fell away, only because he was with her again.
Hours later he drifted into a dream state. He was back in his Berkley apartment with her. It was Sunday, their favorite day of the week where they would sleep in all day together, the bed their sanctuary from the outside world. He began stroking her belly and then his hands went up to her breasts. He pulled on her nipples through her t-shirt and he felt her backside pushing back into his groin.
His hand left her breasts and slipped down to her sweatpants where he pulled back on the waistband and allowed his fingers to wiggle down to her panties. He let his index finger trace the outline of her panties as his breath sent heated pants inside her ear. He rubbed her clit through her panties, and when his finger felt the shape of her ring there, his eyes drifted open.
He wasn't dreaming.
He was really touching her, and she was really responding to his touch.
He took a moment to become fully present and whispered in her ear.
"You kept my ring?"
All he heard was a whimper from her and her ass pressing more urgently on his rising erection. His fingers slipped inside her panties and he played with the ring, her clit a swollen treasure beneath his touch. How many other men had played with his treasure? Pulled on his ring? Sucked on it?
His fingers dove lower into her panties. Her folds were slippery already. He wanted to fuck her. Make her body remember his.
He pulled down her sweats and her panties. She eagerly wiggled out of all of her clothes. He did the same. She turned to face him. His eyes fell to look at her breasts and then lower.
"Califia, I don't have any condoms."
"I have some in my suitcase…but…"
"But what?"
"I don't think you'd be able to use them."
She was staring at his cock, her eyes fixated on the emerald seed jewel that staked her claim on him for life. He wanted her fingers to wrap around his tip and squeeze him. She glanced up at his face.
"They won't fit you. But…you can pull out."
He closed his eyes and groaned. She was going to let him go inside her. He kissed her mouth hard. When he pulled away from her, her eyes had a glassy look to them. She opened her legs wide for him, her knees bent. She took her fingers from both hands and reached down between her legs and opened up her pussy for him.
"Califia…shit…"
He gripped his dick and stroked the head. The fantasies he had of doing this with her again made his mind dance. If he hadn't come for her, if he hadn't followed them to the garage, hadn't staked out the Radisson, she would be in her hotel room with Albert. He would be the one to spread her thighs and enter her grown ass body. It had to be fate. His woman was underneath him and she was opening up his pussy. Just for him. Only him.
He tapped his dick on her clit, teasing her, enjoying the stickiness mixing from his body and hers. She was writhing beneath him.
"Jobu…bay-bee—"
That was all it took. He pressed into her as slow as he could. Her eyes bulged when he pulled out only to feel all of him push back in suddenly. She fit around him as tight as he remembered and he held still to allow her to adjust to the girth and weight of him once more.
She let out a sound that made his hips snap forward and his head drop to watch himself fuck her slow and hard. His seed jewel was already covered with her juices.
He was back inside his pussy. The only one he wanted.
His mouth was hungry for hers again and he kissed her as his cock was blunt and to the point stretching her out. Nice and slow. Slow and nice. But they both knew his nice and slow was punishing to her succulent folds. He intuitively knew that the average guy she was fucking while he was gone would beat up her pussy, that savage need to pummel her because they weren't used to the carnal heaven between her legs. But he knew this pussy well and what it really needed: those deep shallow strokes that only his dick could hit inside of her. This was his woman. Her pussy was made for his cock. The things that made her soak her panties in mere seconds only came from him. And right now his heavy erection was pulling on her clit.
"Keep Daddy's pussy open," he said, and she wailed out his name after he said that, her fingers still keeping her slick labia wide open for him.
"You miss Daddy's dick?"
"Hmmmmhmm, yes!" she screamed.
"Hold your legs up," he told her as he shifted his weight. She lifted up her thighs for him.
"Like this?" she asked winding her waist.
"You feel so good, Califia," he panted, adjusting his stroke to keep up with the rhythm she was putting down. She felt different, more assertive with her hips—
"Fuck me," she said, her walls squeezing all around his erection, and he felt a tremor trickle down his spine. Sekmet be blessed. This was how she was fucking now?
A deep groan raged through his mouth. He needed to see what she was capable of. He pulled out and scrambled onto his back.
"Ride me," he said. He let her decide which direction, and when she sat facing away from him, he could really see how the good weight she put on had settled nice and easy into her thighs, hips, and ass. With her feet planted on the bed, Califia lifted up and down on him, her ass clapping hard and her pussy gripping him with expert control.
"Oh…shiitttt," he gasped, "…shiitttt!"
This was too much. Too much. She was fucking dudes like this?
His left hand reached up to grip her waist and his eyes could only watch her fat ass slam down on him. The only thing he could muster out from his mouth was an occasional "Ohhhhhh!" between breaths. His brittle voice sounded like a stranger to himself.
This is what Albert was enjoying? No wonder he was so bold at her hotel door.
She was getting off on him, it was obvious. He watched her pussy cream all over his dick as he listened to her call him Daddy in a steady mantra that seemed to make her wetter as she bounced on him.
"Damn, Califia, you're just lathering up my dick. You so nasty…you so nasty…."
He slapped her ass and the side of his hand got covered with her slick.
"Look at all this cream coming out…nasty bitch…ride my dick."
Her cheeks were clapping like thunder and his mouth fell open from the lack of control he had over his own body. It just got better and better to him, but at the same time, he started to get a little angry. Angry that he was so far away from her. Angry that she would probably go back to Albert and fuck him like this once he was thousands of miles away. Angry that he couldn't have her anymore.
He lifted her up off of his cock.
"Jobu, what…?"
He pushed her to get on her hands and knees. She thrust her ass up and held her elbows together on her side, her head turned to where he could see her thick lips held in a pout. He looked down at her parted cheeks and saw the swollen shape of her vulva, so wide open, all that juicy pink ready for him. He groaned again while looking at it. He took his fingers and dipped them in and around her opening, spread those lower lips wider. She arched her back more for him.
"Take Daddy's dick," he said going deep.
Her mouth flew open and her eyes squeezed shut. When he was rooted down in her, she tossed her ass back, and her flow was deadly. His voice cracked.
"This is how you fuck now?"
He thrust in hard and fast and gave her a few hard slaps on her ass that made her yelp in pleasure.
"Huh? You fuck dudes like this with my pussy?"
"Bay-bee!"
SMACK!
"Answer the question! This is how you're fucking other dudes?!"
He watched her hands reach out and press against the headboard. She shoved her hips back and widened her thighs. She started throwing her ass back harder, the headboard supporting her weight.
"Dammit," he yelled, unable to keep his grip so secure on her waist. He let go and watched her thrust on him, his hands held above her ass cheeks.
"Do that, girl," he groaned.
He watched her pound her ass on his dick, sliding all the way down to his balls.
"This how you do that shit?! Fuck!"
He grabbed her waist and plunged in deeper, holding himself inside her without moving. He slapped her ass cheeks for a while, keeping his dick still. He felt her trying to wiggle, but he wouldn't let her move.
"Squeeze Daddy's dick!"
He felt her muscles surrounding his erection clench hard.
"That's a good girl. You only fuck Daddy like this from now on. No one else."
He spanked her hard, still not moving his dick, and her whimpers turned into ragged mewling sounds. He grabbed her arms and pulled her up and back. His thrusts were hitting her walls just right, he could tell by the way she was tossing it all back at him. He grabbed her tits and squeezed them, tugging down on her nipples. He bent his head down and bit into the tender space between her neck and shoulder leaving a deep mark. Her ass was still out of control working his cock and heavy sack. He couldn't yank her hair, so his hand reached up and gripped her throat. He felt her gasp. This was new to her. Her pussy throbbed on him.
"You know who your man really is now, right?" He slapped her ass hard with his other hand.
"Yes!"
"Show me. You know what I want to see."
He released her throat and Califia laid her head on his pillow and her hands reached back and pulled her cheeks apart. He resumed his thrusts and he heard her moans as he hit her spot.
"I'm hitting it?"
"Yes!"
"You like it?"
"Yesss…!"
He was reaching critical mass. He needed to pull out. But he needed to correct her behavior. The impulse was strong in him.
"Tell me you'll only fuck me like this. No one else!"
He slapped her ass cheeks twice. Her pussy clenched around him. She was getting close herself.
"Bay-bee…please—"
"Tell me—"
"…just…you…just…you…don't stop…keep going deep…keep going…"
"Turn over, girl…"
He pulled all the way out and she scrambled onto her back for him. He went down on her, his tongue seeking his ring, sucking and pulling on it with his mouth. Her clit was on fire and her bucking hips and legs were no match for his greed in eating out his pussy. He was merciless with his tongue and generous with his lips.
"Jobu…Jobu…Jobu…"
She was backing up away from him.
"Why are you running, girl?"
He snatched her back down to his ravenous mouth.
"Vulela!"
Her thighs snapped back open. His mouth and tongue went to work. He watched her face then bit her labia on both sides. She stared at his gold slugs, her eyes filled with a hazy glow of lust. She had him fucked up. Three years had changed her for the better in bed, and he had to put it down right as her man.
He sank back into her, making her hold her thighs again for him. It didn't matter how many dudes had enjoyed his exquisite seconds while he was gone. All that mattered was that she knew exactly who she belonged too.
He dragged that thick dick in and out and around and deep and shallow and hard and fast and slow and soft and hot and heavy-
"Cum for me, Califia, make this juicy pussy cum for me…"
He kept his eyes on her clit ring.
"Show me you still love me," he pleaded, trying to hold on long enough.
Her breasts were jiggling and her lips were pursed together tight, and just when he thought he would have to cum first, her lips parted and a deep-rooted groan rang in his ears as he felt her walls spasm around him. He gazed into her eyes and saw tears falling from the corners of her eyelids.
"Califia!" he shouted as he pulled out and drenched her clit ring with his semen. It ran down her folds and ass, soaking the sheets. He kneeled above her, panting and sweating like crazy. He wished he could've cum inside of her. That would've been perfection.
He smeared his cum all over his fingers as he played in her folds, rubbing his semen on her thighs and ass. He pulled on her clit ring, enjoying the feel of his essence all over her. He would never let her go. No matter where he was in the world.
His hands eased up and touched his name on her abdomen.
The sorrow came down on him fast, his tears springing forth without hesitation. He wiped his eyes, but his tears still flowed.
He looked at her face again. She was still crying.
"My love, come here," he said lifting her up and embracing her.
She wrapped her arms around him.
"I'm here. I'm here," he said rocking her back and forth.
"It still hurts," she sobbed.
"I know…I know. I have you now. Let me take it now. I'll take it," he said.
He rubbed her back and tried to soothe her pain with heartfelt whispers, but the wracking guilt burned in him. They mourned together for a time and he was surprised when her lips sought his out again, the salt from her tears he could taste on her lips and his. She wanted him again and his body was ready a lot quicker than he thought possible.
They stayed in missionary and he bit her neck and her breasts as she whispered "I love you," in his ear making his dick throb each time she said it. The mewling sounds dripping from her lips made him feel drunk and alive and so very happy that his mouth became reckless when she was close to breaking apart on his dick from rubbing her engorged clit, and he dropped his head down to her neck and told her without hesitation, "You'll have my baby."
He felt her breath quicken and her back arched as she came on him. He pulled out and let hot ribbons of semen streak across her breasts.
They finally had room service for dinner after exploring and reuniting their bodies all day.
When the late evening rolled in, they washed one another in the expansive shower then crawled back into bed together. He would have to join his family the next afternoon before the red-eye flight back to Wakanda. Every second with her counted. Every detail he could memorize this time around was excavated and filed away in precious corners of his being. His hand stroked her scalp as she laid her head on his lap. He told her of his life as a Prince. What it was like to have his whole life mapped out before he was even born.
"Will you be King one day?"
"Not likely. My brother's children take precedence. Unless of course something was to happen and I would have to step in."
"Why couldn't you tell us? Just Bakari and I?"
"You would treat me different."
"No, we wouldn't-"
"People always do. And it wouldn't be safe for you. If someone were to come for me and either of you were with me, there could be a danger to yourselves. It's easier to pretend to be a diplomat's son."
"Will you really stay in the military?"
"It's looking like the best option to get away from the palace."
"You dislike it that much?"
"It's just difficult to live under a microscope."
"Having everything at your fingertips sounds like the good life."
"I won't deny there are perks to being royalty. But there's a cost."
"I'd learn to live with those costs, that's real talk."
There was silence between them for a time. So many things unsaid.
As was their nature, they made love before going to sleep, neither speaking of goodbyes or plans to stay in contact once more. Their last tryst had her sitting on his face after he ejaculated in her mouth. The sounds of his lips smacking while eating her out pleased her to no end and the sound of her orgasm was divine music to his ears.
He was grateful to hold her one more time as they slept together.
When he awoke the next morning, she was gone.
He expected it.
It was a fitting end to their reunion. And only fair that she should be the one to leave him in the night this time.
But what he wasn't expecting to find was a tiny pair of red sneakers on the nightstand.
Shoes that could only fit a newborn.
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