Bibitte: Cajun French curse term for male genitalia (d*ck)
Languid lips turned bruising and fierce—intensity growing with each shared breath. Hips rocked. Hands held firm; hers on him, his on her.
Panting rasps and racing hearts pronounced their feelings like a bugle call cutting through a silent morning, giving unquestionable orders in every brassy note.
Isty pulled back, wrenching herself from Dink's hold. Her heart thundered in her chest, telling her to retreat; she pressed herself into the opposite arm of the sofa.
With heaving chests, they stared. Dink's heartbeat bellowed in his ears, urging him to press forward—don't let her slip away.
Glazed eyes swam in their sockets, drunk from shallow breaths and raging lust. Itsy's eyes fluttered closed in a surge of lightheadedness. Weak, she lifted her hand to slow Dink's advance. "Wa—wait." She could not find her breath. "I, I think I need a minute." She licked her tingling lips.
Rising to his feet, Dink moved around the back of the couch; Itsy's eyes followed his slow gait until he was standing so close she was forced to avert her eyes. Strong, firm hands rested on her shoulders. Unsure eyes peered up at him. He bent down to kiss her nose. "I'll get you some water." He continued to stoop low, grazing her arm as he bent to retrieve her glass of forgotten milk from the floor, wanting to maintain contact with his woman for as long as possible.
Itsy watched, awestruck at the smooth, rugged surety of Dink's every move. He pivoted and progressed to the kitchen. Once her adrenaline calmed, Itsy followed.
Reaching in the fridge for a pitcher of water, Dink didn't acknowledge Itsy's approach. He stood and there she was, leaning on the door. Eager eyes greeted him in a luxurious mocha gleam—Dink was instantly ravenous for something sweet. His eyes roamed his woman's face, loving every muscle that twitched to reveal all she was thinking and feeling.
Pursed lips failed to hide a coy smile. Her eyes turned up and crinkled in the corners, the apples of her cheeks flinched when her grin threatened to overtake her. She wiggled her nose in an attempt to get her face back under control. Dink thought the ruse was amusing, and laughed outright.
Her mouth fell open. "What?" Itsy pressed the back of her hand over her mouth and under her nose to wipe away any remnants of her supper or their shared, sloppy kisses. Dink laughed harder when Itsy pressed her fingers against her pinking cheeks. "Stop it." She pushed the door closed, forcing Dink to jump back out of the way, and then she turned away.
He reached out to stop her movement. "I'm sorry."
Itsy spun around to face him, her face flushed and full of fury. Dink's laughter could not be quieted.
"Please," he said through closed teeth, clenching his jaw to contain his amusement. "I'll behave. I promise." He wrapped his arms around her.
"You's a bibitte." Dink heard a hint of laughter in Itsy's tone, but she schooled her features to hide any sign of levity.
He rubbed his nose along her jaw and neck. God, how he loved her neck—long, sinewy, elegant—regal. Dink wanted to devour her. His stomach chose that moment to remind Dink that it had been neglected.
"You didn't eat?"
He shook his head. "I was a bit…preoccupied. Lost my appetite."
"Sounds like it returned." Itsy stepped around her man and pulled out containers of food, piling the contents onto a plate.
"Mac made enough to feed an army. I'm just one man, baby. I can't eat all that," he said, sitting on a stool to watch his woman move around his kitchen so eager to feed him.
"Hush now. I got this." Itsy offered a sly smirk and set the microwave. "What you wanna drink?"
Dink's stomach fluttered, and his heart skipped a beat at Itsy's care, reminding him so much of his mother. CeeBo, that cullion, was always getting under Miss Essie's skin one way or another, yet she made sure her man was always taken care of. Dink's daddy was often called out his name and knocked around a bit, but his mama would never let the man go hungry—at least not that Dink could immediately recollect. Itsy had been so angry to the point Dink thought she might pop a blood vessel, or five, yet here she was humming as she swished and swayed about the kitchen. He was mesmerized, lost in the rhythmic movement of his woman's body. Visions of a dishwater-haired bebé on Itsy's hip, and another safe in the growing swell of her belly overtook him.
The microwave chimed pulling him from his fantasies. Dink released a stuttered breath. This woman's presence made him homesick, but she felt like home at the same time.
"You okay?" Itsy ran a hand up his arm and turned down Dink's collar. Her fingers continued their trek and massaged the nape of his neck.
He moaned in agreement. "Perfect." And he was.
Itsy pressed her front against his back, crossing her arms over Dink's chest. Her breath blew hot and moist against his ear. His skin was aflame, and he hadn't even touched Mac's spicy meal. He reached up and ran his hands over her bare forearms.
She broke out in goose bumps. "You're hands are always so cold."
"Does that bother you?"
"Naw. I like it."
"You always run hot, to me."
"You make me hot," she said with a giggle against his neck.
Dink's pants tightened much like when they had first met in this very same spot some weeks ago. He groaned. "You can't say stuff like that, Itsy, unless you want me to take you right now, on this here countertop."
Itsy grew rigid behind him for a breath, and then pressed her cheek on Dink's head to hide her smile. "Shut up and eat," she said with a laugh and slipped her arms from around him. Itsy grabbed her glass, slid a beer across the counter to Dink, and then pulled herself to sit on the countertop beside him. "We never finished our conversation." In her contentment, Itsy swung her legs back and forth—alternating the left, then right.
The spoon hovered near Dink's mouth. Itsy's face and body language gave nothing away. Whatever she was thinking could go either way. "Uh, what more is there to say? Spud apologized…in a way. I understand his reasoning. I'm over it. I wanna put it behind us."
Itsy rolled her eyes. "Fuckin' Spud." She crossed her ankles, and the swing of her legs picked up pace. Dink reached out to still her movements.
"Itsy." He squeezed tighter on the bronzed flesh of her thigh, the skin turning white under the pressure. "Itsy, calm down." Dink swallowed hard. Fate had offered him a second chance, and he would not squander it. He moved his hand farther up her muscular thigh, his other hand joining in the journey. Itsy shuddered as his hands cooled her flesh. "Can I ask you somethin'?"
Dink's mossy eyes were like lasers, boring into the very root of her…settling her escalating emotions. "You—"He coughed to clear his throat and dropped his gaze. "You said…downstairs…that I—I made you love me." He lifted his eyes to gauge Itsy's reaction.
Pink spread from the collar of her shirt all the way into her hairline. She shifted where she sat, but Dink's hands held firm, not letting her run.
Dink rose to his feet to stand between her legs. "Don't be afraid to tell me the truth, okay?" He held her head up with two fingers under her chin, and then placed a soft kiss upon her lips. "For weeks—from that first day—you're all I could think about. You've haunted me." He leaned forward, nuzzling against her neck and placing feather-light kisses up and down the column before pulling back to face her. "It was easy…"
"What was?" she asked with a quivering voice.
"Fallin' in love with you."
Impulse reigned supreme. Itsy latched herself onto her man—legs locked onto hips, arms hooked around his neck, hips met, chests pressed together leaving little room for breaths.
"You love me?"
"What are we gonna do?" She rested her head on his shoulder but did not loosen her hold on the man.
"I'm not sure I follow."
Dink could feel her pulse pounding through their clothing.
"School, work, our families. What will people say?"
"Nobody needs to say shit—we grown—I thought we established that weeks ago." He rubbed his hands up and down Itsy's back, grounding himself with her presence. This back and forth, up and down over what somebody else said or did had his emotions close to boiling over, too. His mind sought out ways for Itsy to give herself permission to be with him. "Obviously our families support this. You couldn't get away from me even if you tried."
Foggy-minded, Itsy stammered over her words. "What do you mean?"
"Sweetheart, Spud's married to my sister. Sophie Rose and EJ? What am I to them?"
"You get it now?"
"Yeah." Her lips curled up against Dink's collarbone. "We're fated. You said something like that once before."
"I did, didn't I?"
"Umm-hmm. I didn't want to believe you or in magic, or Fate, yet here we are." Itsy pulled back to meet Dink's eye. "There's no other explanation, is there?"
"I reckon not." He pressed his mouth to hers. "I love you, Itsy. I ain't never said that before and meant it."
Her lip quivered against his. He loved her. She had wanted this from the very beginning, yet was willing to accept a fling, but her heart…her soul…desired something much, much deeper. Dink gave it to her with his centering touches that turned her world upside down. How did he have that power over her? Did she have that kind of effect on him? She assumed so if the way he greeted her just a few hours before was any inclination.
Her heart stuttered at the memory of his sallow eyes when they landed on her when they reunited just a few hours ago. He looked like shit: scraggly and unkempt. His clothes were tidy, but they just hung on him. The man within had retreated. She held his face in her hands, scratching at the scruff on his jaw. He moaned at the soothing sensation and then looked up.
Brown eyes met green—earth and its bounty—together they were one. "I love you." Her voice carried an unquestionable confidence.
He palmed her hips, pulling Itsy closer and bucking into the juncture of her hips as he claimed his woman. "Merde, I love you so g'damn much," he said through wild kisses. "You taste so good." He sucked on her tongue…then her lips: first the bottom, then the top, before their tongues met again.
Itsy worked one hand into Dink's hair that was now long enough to grip and tug. She yanked at a handful, pulling his face from hers. His eyes went dark and wild with lust at the sting of the sensation. His pants constricted more; so much so he thought he might lose his composure right then and there. He let out a groan and growl. Itsy watched with fascination as the man's Adam's apple bobbed. Her lips latched onto the flesh just under his jaw.
She couldn't find the words she needed. In this moment, Itsy only wanted to feel. "I wanna—I need…"
Dink inched her off the counter, cradling her hips in his hands while moving them down the hall to his bedroom. Ignoring her protests at being moved, Dink laved kisses up and down Itsy's neck, pulling her down into a deeper haze.
He dropped to his knees on the bed and laid her down underneath him. She moaned at the weight of him pressing on her. His mouth was on her neck, and her face buried into the pillow beside her head. His scent assaulted her, burning her throat—scorching her lungs, marking her from the inside out. He was earth and sea and sky, supplying all that she would ever need or desire.
"I love you," she said again.
Dink propped himself up on his elbows. The sight before him took his breath away. Thick, dark tresses fanned over his steel gray pillowcases. Hooded eyes punctuated a serene face and kiss-swollen lips.
"I love you, too."
Itsy watched his lips with rapt attention. The words pouring out filled her, soothed her, and completed her. Never had she heard words more melodious. Cane sugar coated each syllable and melted on her eardrums. Her mouth fell slack, unable to find an adequate response. Instead, she reached up and worked his shirt buttons through each hole, revealing her man to her.
She pushed the fabric from his shoulders and down his arms, eager to feel all of him against her fevered flesh. Her skin was hot against Dink's lips. The sweltering heat from the apex of Itsy's thighs had Dink bucking up against her in steady strokes—rhythmic and slow. She reached between them, fumbling with his belt.
Released from the confines of his dungarees, Dink sighed and worked his pants the rest of the way down his legs. Once freed of his cotton prison, Dink palmed Itsy's breasts drawing an anguished moan from his woman at the pressure, pain, and pleasure of his grasp. Itsy's hands went into her hair, unable to find one place for her digits to rest. Dink's other hand worked its way down around the waistband of her shorts, teasing the supple flesh there. He tugged on the hem of her tank top; his nails caught on a snag, opening a hole.
Itsy shook her head. "Just…just tear it all the way. I need you."
Dink tentatively poked a finger through the hole, teasing her belly button in his exploration. She giggled.
"You're so beautiful." He slipped another finger into the hole, then two more from the other hand, and then he tugged, creating a great fissure that traveled up the valley between her breasts. One last, firm tug and the creamy flesh over her heart was exposed to him. Dink bent down and kissed just left of center, lingering there. "My heart," he whispered against her skin, sending shivers through Itsy's body.
Her impatient hands nudged her shorts down her hips little by little, impeded by the weight of her man upon her petite frame.
Dink's attention did not waver from Itsy's bosom, laving her heated flesh with wet, cooling kisses. His long fingers tweaked and tugged at coral nubs. Her back arched off the bed, desperate to get closer. Her hands moved from her shorts to Dink's boxers, working her powerfully strong hands down into the cotton and grabbing a large handful of his ass, then holding his undulating hips still. She continued to move beneath him as heat beat a track from Dink's kisses over her heart down the center of her body, seeking an exit.
Her eyes went unseeing as she heralded her orgasm with a chorus of panting squeaks.
If he thought the sight of Itsy simply lying in his bed with her cinnamon waves fanned out across his pillow was the most glorious sight he'd ever seen, he was mistaken. Itsy, flushed, dewy, and breathless beneath him as she rode out her orgasm was like seeing the face of God. His chest swelled with machismo, as did his cock. He reached over into his bedside table for a rubber.
Boneless and semi-conscious, Itsy provided no help in removing her shorts. Her sex greeted him pink and pulsating, every fold and swell exposed to him when her knees fell apart, opening herself up to him. Dink licked his lips, and then dipped low, kissing up her thigh, only stopping when he reached the small patch of hair in the middle of her hips.
An exquisite scent overwhelmed him. Sweet and wild, like her spirit. He needed to taste her, to ingest her essence, to have her become a physical part of him. She had become his everything, and needed her to sustain himself. His tongue pressed firm against her opening, lapping its way up to her clit, and then circling the nub, only to begin the circuit again.
The more she mewled and writhed, the more he licked, suckled, and pressed. His hardness rubbed against the mattress seeking friction. He drew her swollen clit into his mouth as he pressed two fingers inside her heat, curving his fingers up. The scruff on his jaw added another sensation, tickling, pricking, and teasing Itsy to another climax. Sopping sounds of Dink's ministrations filled the air along with the muskiness of their lust.
"Oh! Oh! Edward—Oh!" She came again, sluice and loud.
Still pumping his fingers, he lapped up what he could. Wild blackberries and lotus blossoms burst on his tongue—the true taste of her was divine. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. Removing his fingers, Dink buried his face deeper in his woman's sex. His tongue wild, hungry for more, dipped lower to catch every wayward drop. He palmed her ass, lifting her to him, spreading her wider, his tongue teased her tight hole. She trembled at this new sensation. Dink slowed his strokes, licking a languid path from front to back, back to front until he had his fill.
"Dink…Oh, God—It's too much—Please," Itsy said with a whine.
He looked up at her, his woman's legs still hooked over his shoulders, his nose still pressed firm against her neatly trimmed mound. His green eyes were nearly black. Itsy wasn't entirely sure he fully saw her.
He saw her…saw it all….the way her full breasts jiggled and fell fluidly toward her chin with her inclined position. He saw her skin flushed and blotchy—beautiful—from what he was able to give her.
She reached out for him, trying to pull her leg down. "Please, baby. Let me take care of you now."
Dink pulled her up to his chest, enveloping Itsy in his strong embrace. She clawed at the bed in search of the condom. "I need you like this, Edward."
His eyes snapped to hers. "Edward?"
Itsy shrugged. "I'm trying it out…seeing how it feels."
"Weird. But it somehow it works."
"I really hate being called 'Dink.' Nobody calls me that except Spud."
"Edward's a nice name. Old fashioned, but nice."
"Nice?" He pushed her down on the bed and covered her shoulder with nipping kisses. His fingers played upon her ribs, tickling her naked body.
She cried out with laughter. "Okay! It's better'n nice."
"What's better'n nice?" he said with playful menace.
"It's…It's classic! Okay? Please, Edward. You're gonna make me pee!"
In the distraction of their conversation and tickle fight, Edward covered himself with the condom Itsy had produced. He pulled her up to him again, this time rising her up a little higher, and then lining them up. His lips never left her fevered flesh.
He was fully seated in the scorching heat of his woman. Her walls fluttered around him, adjusting to the sudden intrusion. "Mmm, Dink. You feel so good." He thrust up; her head fell back. "Yeah, just. Like. That."
Dink's orgasm sprinted forward the moment Itsy's hips met his. This wouldn't take long. He held Itsy tight, rocking gently into her as he spilled his seed. "Bella. God, Bella," he said through impassioned grunts and incoherent blubbering.
They collapsed onto the bed, kicking the covers away, and then pulling them back over their sated forms.
Dink rolled over to discard his condom, and then turned to draw Itsy into his arms where she belonged. A nook had been carved out of his body, made to fit his woman perfectly. He was certain of that fact.
She nuzzled down against her man, kissing the auburn haired flesh over his heart. "I love you, Edward…so much."
He smoothed her hair down, kissing the crown. "I know. You're my everything. Power, beauty, elegance, wisdom. Bella, you're the total package."
"I guess I'll keep you around. You sure do know how to inflate a girl's ego," she said with a chuckle. Her hot breath fanned against her man's chest.
Itsy yawned and nuzzled deeper into her man.
"0530 wake up, y'all. Get some rest."
Their hearts nearly jumped from their ribs at the sound of the intercom.
Fuckin' Mac. So lost in their reunion, the couple forgot she was on the boat. They lay still, waiting for more orders, but there were none. Only silence.
The couple laughed. Dink's arms tightened around his woman. "Sleep, my love. We've got a long road ahead of us these four months. You'll need all the energy you can muster."
"If I wanted easy, I would have taken the research position at UA. I can handle it, Professor Cullen."
A laugh rumbled through Dink's chest at being addressed that way. Her voice was husky and seductive. His loins stirred at the thought of putting Itsy's naughty mouth to good use. He lost himself in the fantasy for a moment. If he wasn't completely emotionally and physically exhausted, he might have pursued that train of thought.
Itsy's soft snores filled his ears.
Well, that's that then. "Sweet dreams, Itsy." He kissed her head once more, then let his eyes close.
So…these guys are back on track? How y'all feeling? I don't think there will be too much after this chapter, maybe we'll wrap at around 15 chapters. It all depends on if Itsy, Dink, and Mac feel like talking to me.
As always, thank you for spending your valuable time with my words and sharing your thoughts. I'm truly humbled by your kindness.
Until next time…