Page 3 of Rich and Rotten

“Please,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face.

I couldn’t tell him that my father was trying to force me to marry another man. It would be too painful to say those words to him. I just needed him to know I wanted to be with him.

“Tata, why you wanna leave?”

“I’m tired of trying to live up to my parents’ standards and the expectations they set for me. I want something new. I want simple. Isn’t that what you want, too, baby?”

He wiped the tears from my cheeks and gently kissed my lips. “Yes, Tata, but that’s not the way to do this. It would hurt your parents.”

“Please, baby,” I pleaded. “I can make things right afterward. Right now, I just want to leave and figure out life somewhere else––get married.”

I desperately wanted him to agree to run away with me. If I left with him, my father wouldn’t be able to force me into marrying someone I didn’t know or love.

He exhaled deeply. “I’m working on some things for us, baby. I want to give you that simple life, but I also don’t want to tear your family apart in the process.”

“Please.” I kissed his lips and slowly removed the silk pajama top I was wearing.

His eyes took me in as he pushed me back onto the bed, hovering over me. He pressed his lips roughly against mine while sliding down my pajama shorts and pulling off his pants. I craved his body as much as he craved mine.

“I’m gonna fuck this pussy good,” he growled near my ear. “Then you gonna fall asleep in my arms. We’ll figure the rest of this shit out tomorrow.”

“Yessss, Zir. Fuck me,” I begged.

Every part of my body responded to him. His words were like strings, and my body moved with his every command. Pushing my legs apart, he shoved himself deep inside of me. I’ve been handled like fragile glass my entire life, so I welcomed his aggressiveness. Arching my back, I took all of him. Then he slowly pulled out before slamming inside me again as I whimpered. I needed this. It had been an emotional day, and my mind had been racing ever since I stepped into my condo after flying back. But whenever Nazir plugged me up, everything always went silent. The world seemed quieter, and it was just the two of us in that moment.

“Fuck, Tata. You know you my world, right?”

“I know, baby. I… I…” I moaned.

“Say what you mean and mean what you say, beloved,” he grunted, reciting his favorite saying.

His strong, long strokes made me feel them in my eyelids, and I screamed in ecstasy.

Because my father bought the two empty condos on either side of mine, I didn’t have to worry about anyone hearing my cries of passion. My wish was to turn this entire floor into my dream condo, and since I got everything I wanted, he planned to make that happen for me.

“Where your mind at, Tata? Tell me. You not feeling this dick in your guts? Tell a nigga something, baby,” he grunted.

Raising my upper body from the bed, I started sucking on his lips. In response, he shoved his tongue down my throat and his dick up my vagina. I swear he was touching my intestines. It felt so good, his ass had me panting like a rabid dog. I was right there. The orgasm was slow-building, like ice cream churning inside a machine. Just as I was about to explode, he flipped me on my stomach, entered me from behind, and smacked my ass, causing it to ripple.

“Zir...God…please…I’m going to...” I moaned, rocking to meet his thrusts.

Sex between us was always so special. Nazir, who was usually gentle with me, turned into someone else. He treated me the way I wanted to be treated in the bedroom––never handling me with white gloves. Yes, we made love, and during our lovemaking, he would handle me as if I were the most precious jewel in the world. But when we fucked? He made sure to fuck me properly. And after the day I had with my father, I needed this more than he could have known.

With a firm grip on my hips, Nazir slammed me against him until I felt his body stiffen and his semen coat my walls. Then he collapsed beside me and pulled me on top of him, holding me tightly.

“I love you, Tata.”

“I love you more, Zir,” I said blissfully, then kissed his chest and closed my eyes, falling asleep to his scent that always brought me comfort.

Chapter One

Tatiana Sterling

Ten years later…

They say death repeats itself in an endless cycle because grief won’t let you forget. I am living proof of that truth. Standing at my husband’s grave, I felt the same sickness I felt two years ago.

Karim and I never got along. In fact, I hated him when we first met. He was arrogant, overly confident, and swore he was God’s gift to the world. At first, I resented his existence, thinking that if he had never been born, I wouldn’t have been forced to marry him. Despite my heartbreak, I had to push through and do what was best for the family’s greater good.