Page 81 of Range
It had been more than a week since I’d given her the address. It had been more than a week since I’d last laid eyes on Range. She’d been working. She’d been cleaning. She’d been sourcing. The pieces in my hideaway hadn’t been easy to find. It had taken me two years to fill the empty spaces. Somehow, Range managed to locate every piece she needed in a week’s time.
That was the beauty of womanhood. Their resourcefulness was never to be mistaken for anything less than it was. Instinctive genius. It was innate.
“Josiah,” Range gasped.
I halted.
“Please–”
Don’t beg, Sunshine. That’s not necessary.
“Don’t stop.”
“Quiet down, love.”
She nodded as she pushed her hips forward. Her desperation hardened my dick. Deprivation wasn’t an issue for Range. I was no fool. However, preference was.
The nigga she was playing house with was available. That was his only advantage.
His freedom.
His availability.
However, if she could have me, she would.
In a heartbeat.
In a split second.
There was no doubt in my mind.
“Siah–”
The way she called my name was agonizingly addictive. It made me want to demand everyone else call me something different.
I pulled toward me. My thumb slid across her clit.
“Oh God.”
She began to quiver with each stroke of my fingers. Her climax was near. The potency of her arousal was enlightening. My nostrils flexed as I locked her scent into my memory. Etched it on my heart.
Her eyes closed, leaving me lonely. Things inside of me broke. I couldn’t accept her willful bowing. It placed a barrier between us.
“Look at me, Sunshine.”
It was my turn to beg.
“Uhhhhh.”
Her head fell backward.
“Range.”
“I’m cumming,” she cried out through clenched teeth.
“You deserve to.”
My dick was preparing to break free from my threads.
