His Emancipator🖤 [His Duet #1]

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT

Keilee's dress☝🏽☝🏽

"Mmm." A small moan croaks out of my throat, my eyes still shut.

"Good morning baby." Darelle murmurs in my ear, his mouth nuzzling my neck.

"A good morning indeed." I push against his morning wood. "That's not really helping." He breathes, his finger picking up its pace between my legs. I let out a small whine. Waking up to your boyfriend finger-fucking you under the comforter is heaven.

I roll over to face him, lifting my leg on top of his hip and therefore allowing his finger to perfectly access my swollen clit. "That's so hot." I sputter.

"And you're so wet." Darelle adds another finger then he gently spreads my labia and proceeds to draw a letter D on my clit. "Tonight I'm gonna use my mouth to draw my full fucking name." He whispers and I shudder a little from his promise.

"Oh fuck!" I moan, softly grinding against his hand. My blood boils at a high simmer and I feel my imminent orgasm.

"God, I love hearing those pretty sounds come out of you." Darelle mumbles, biting my neck. His fast strokes don't flatter. The growing pressure in my body pushes me to release into his warm hand. Darelle holds me tight on him until I come down from my high.

"Beautiful." He says, sliding his hand out of my panties.

I sit up on the bed. "While I'd love to spend the whole day in bed with you, I have a launch party to plan."

"You're stressed." He notes.

"Isn't everyone stressed when they launch their company?"

Darelle brings me to his lap "Sweetheart you'll do great, everyone loves you."

"I bet Madison's ghost doesn't." I quip. He thinks about it "I guess you're right." Simultaneously, we crack up. And in that moment, I realize that there's no going back. We laugh together, we cry together, we fight together and at the end of it all we still choose each other.

"If you'd told me three months ago that I'd kill someone, have a hot model wrapped around my finger, and my own company I'd laugh in your face."

"I'm not wrapped around your finger." Darelle protests.

I stand up, faking an ankle twist. "Aaah." I cry, sitting on the floor. Darelle jumps from the bed in a swift motion, worry flooding his face. "Zuri are you okay?" he kneels in front of me.

"What do you think?"

He tenses. "Okay what do you want me to do? Do you need me to carry you? A massage? Ice cream? A shawarma?" I'm not sure how the last two are related to an ankle twist.

I feign a frown "All of them?"

"Okay whatever you want, I'll do it Zuri. I'll even deal with tonight's event preparations." He croons, already starting to massage my ankle.