Sweet Nothing | Aaliyah x J. Cole

11

[A/N: thanks for reading and voting! 🥰 Hopefully more J Cole fanfic to come in the near future.]

Warning: this chapter may be considered mature by some. Reader discretion advised.

—

Her phone starts ringing. Pulled from her sleep, Liyah reaches out in the dark, sleep mask still over her eyes. She sits up on her tummy and takes it off to see the caller ID.

Jermaine.

She smacks her lips and ignores it, laying down again.

Then her phone starts ringing a second time. This time she rolls over onto her back and puts the phone to her ear.

"What?" She mumbles, barely audible.

"Open the door," Jay says, and hangs up.

Liyah scoffs and stares at her phone.

No he didn't!

And it's three in the morning— way too late for him to be popping up. She second guesses letting him in, but then again he did pay for her Uber.

But he's not spending the night, she tells herself as she scoots out of bed and steps into her slippers. She maneuvers through the dark condo until arriving at the door; there she unlocks it, but asks herself a final time if she really wants to open it.

Letting him in will set her back. She just knows it. They're supposed to be done, yet here he is once again.

At the same time, he's never acted so territorial about her. And that kiss.

Liyah rests her head against the door, caught between logic and her heart like a tug-of-war. Everything in her says don't let him in, but the small voice that says hear him out is promising regret if she doesn't at least listen.

She turns the knob, and he's standing there in his jacket, hair tied back. They stare at one another in tender silence, until finally she drops her gaze and steps aside, allowing him to enter.

He kicks his shoes off as usual, and pulls off his jacket. Liyah stands against the wall, arms folded over her nightgown as she watches.

He comes towards her with steady steps, and pulls her into his arms. Another thing he's never done.

She feels weird, awkward with her ear pressed to his chest as he squeezes her. But his familiar musk is pacifying. She inhales him all the way, and sinks into his embrace.

Then he kisses her on the lips— first a peck, then a deep tonguing. She gasps, mouth wide, pleased at the taste of his tongue.

"Jay," she pulls back, but he smothers her again.

"Jay," she whines, resisting with her lips but her body slowly opening to him.

He smirks against her mouth. "Hmm?"

"I can't," she says, creating a barrier between them by placing her hands on his chest.

Jay caresses her body, his hands finding all the places that make her weak. "Don't say that."

She shakes her head, and his lips fall to her neck.

He kisses and sucks.

Liyah's eyes roll back, and she reaches out for something to grab until her hand lands on the wall. She lets herself fall against it, helpless to his authority.

"Jay!" She cries out as he lifts her legs beneath her, wrapping them around his waist.

"Shhh," he commands, "I got you. You know I got you." With one hand, he holds her up against the wall. With the other, he unbuttons his pants and lets it fall to his ankles. Then he reaches between her legs to find wet sticky warmth.

Of course she wearing no underwear. She feels so ready, he thinks.

Her moans fill his ear, making him even more firm.

With the hastiness of a starving man to a banquet, Jay quickly takes hold of his member and uses it to search for her entrance in the dark. Like a jackpot, he knows he's there when he hears that sound:

"Mmmm, Jay!"

When he pushes inside of her, they both gasp and pause at the overwhelming sensation. In the Moonlight they can see each other's eyes, so sweet, so angry, so afraid but so willing.

In the split second between their gasps and Jays next stroke, Liyah's mind replays the last year like a montage.

Eating Chinese together on the couch; the sound of his voice saying her name on the radio; the way he'd stop and kiss her feet in the middle of sex sometimes.

She isn't ready to give that up.

Jay pushes deeper and watches as she squirms beneath him in rapture. He remembers the first time he'd met her, what her face had looked like:

Angelic, innocent, but knowing. He'd opened the door for her at his favorite breakfast spot, and she called him a gentleman with a smile on her face. That day changed his life forever.

He'll never let this go.

He strokes her in and out, holding her firm buttocks tight in his grip. She squeezes his shoulders for support, her back arching against the wall.

"I love you," he says, panting.

"Huh?" Liyah opens her eyes again, looking up at him.

Jay strokes slower, softer, and rests his forehead against hers. He looks her deep in the eye this time so she understands clearly as they breathe on each other's lips.

"I love you."

Liyah shrieks in pleasure, her walls anointing him with precious cream.

When he feels her begin to ooze sweet molasses on him, he says it again.

"I love you!"

She creams harder, and he goes deeper.

"I love you."

"I love you."

"I love you."

"I love you."