ELLA
When I opened the door for him, I could virtually feel him still vibrating. Any other woman probably would’ve been afraid of him, and maybe I should’ve been afraid of him, too, but I wasn’t. Truth was, angry Armand was just as attractive as submissive Armand.
He looked at me, then over my shoulder. “Where is he?”
“Why, so you can beat him up?” I asked. “Come in, Armand, and talk to me.”
With his hands in the pockets of his slacks, he entered my home. As I closed the door and armed the alarm, he repeated, “Where is he, Ella?”
I reached for his hand, waited until he took mine, and led him to my living room.
ARMAND
This nigga was sitting on the sofa like he was waiting on me or something. He was big, tall too. But I was taller and crazy as fuck. I was good at fighting, and right then, I was mad enough to disappear his ass. The second I saw Him standing in my mom’s living room with his arm around my damn sir, I knew he’d fucked her. It might not have been recent, but he had definitely fucked her. I was willing to put money on that. Was he gay? Didn’t matter. Gay or not, he needed to keep his fucking hands off her.
“Hey, man…I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m not sure what y’all got going on because Ella is so damn private nowadays, but we’re friends. I love her like a sister,” dude said in this deep-ass voice.
Fuck him and his voice!
“A sister you fucked? Because I know y’all fucked. That shit is written all over you,” I spat.
“Armand—” Ella began, but dude interrupted her.
“We did like five years ago, and I didn’t like it. As a matter of fact, I hated it. Now you’ve obviously fucked her, so you should know that’s a problem. I’m gay. I was fighting it. After being with her, I realized I couldn’t fight it anymore. She was the first person I told, or rather, she told me. I was a football player, and she kept my secret because it would’ve been dangerous for people to find out.”
“I did, and we became good friends who love and respect each other too much to ever go there again,” Ella added.
“Look, I’ma leave you two to talk or whatever. Good night,” dude said, leaving the living room.
“Where he sleeping?” I asked.
“Not with us. Come on. Let’s go to bed,” she coaxed, and of course I followed her.
We showered separately, although she offered for us to do it together. I knew she was trying to calm me down. She was probably afraid I’d kick dude’s door in and kill him if she left me unsupervised, but I was good, better than usual. I hadn’t blacked out, at least not yet. Honestly, I wanted her so bad that my anger started dissipating the second she shut and locked the bedroom door behind us. So by the time I’d showered and climbed into bed, I was more than horny.
She pressed her body against mine as soon as my ass hit the sheets, both of us naked, my dick hard enough to lift weights on its own.
Softly, she said, “Did you really believe I’d break our agreement and see someone else? For this to work, you have to trust me…totally.”
Wrapping an arm around her, I replied, “I do trust you. I don’t trust him or much of anybody else.”
“So you think I can’t handle him? Really?”
“Point taken. Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“You ain’t mad about me not calling you sir all night, for looking you in the eye, for talking without permission?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because what we do is for us, not for public consumption. Consent is a huge part of BDSM. I don’t believe in doing public kink because it can be triggering for some people.”
“Plus, you don’t want people in your business.”
“Bingo.”
“How’d you get into this? Into kink?”
She was silent for so long I almost wished I hadn’t asked, but I wanted to know. Finally, she answered with, “Believe it or not, it was part of my treatment.”
“Treatment? For what?”
I felt her move, and then a lamp popped on beside the bed. She sat up and sighed, her eyes locked on my face. “I…I was very depressed for a while after uh, you know what happened with my last relationship. Depressed, suicidal, and I started taking pills, so I went to a rehab center in LA. They held some rather interesting views on BDSM and how it can help you cope, stuff like that. It actually did help me, and I grew to love the lifestyle.”
“How I ain’t know you went to rehab?”
“Because money can buy a lot of things, including discretion and strict confidentiality.”
“Right. So…am I your first sub?”
“No, I’ve had a couple others, one I never even met in person. We had an online relationship. You are my first sexual sub, though.”
“Word?”
She nodded. “Word.”
I chuckled. “Hey, why you let me fuck you instead of you fucking me the other day after you beat my ass?”
“I beat your thighs.”
“Same thing.”
Smiling, she informed me, “Because you needed to. Just like you need to right now. You need to, you want to, and I want you to.”
I stared at her for a minute before grabbing her arm and pulling her down to me, kissing her like my life depended on it. Flipping us, I settled between her thighs, my dick pinned against her pussy, and let my mouth slide to her neck and then her breasts, sucking hard on each nipple as she moaned my name. I wanted to ease inside her, but I couldn’t. I needed to be surrounded by her, to feel all of her heat and wetness, to experience the fullness of her tightness all at once, so I slammed into her, closing my eyes and smiling when she breathlessly groaned, “You’re such a fucking savage and I love it! Fuck me, Armand, and don’t stop.”
So I eased back and slammed into her again. “This pussy…shit!” I mumbled. “So good…”
“Ohhhh, Armand! Armand!”
“Ella…sir…thank you for this pussy. Thank you for this good-ass pussy! I wanna know everything about you. I want inside your head, baby. I love this. I love being with you,” I whimpered.
That was how it went—me pile driving into her pussy, alternating sucking her tongue and her titties while I strummed her clit and said all kinds of shit—all true.
She got hers first, her body jerking and seizing for so long that I was almost afraid the orgasm had triggered some kind of seizure. Then it was my turn. I can say I held out longer than my usual, and she didn’t lie. The release had me floating outside my body.
Afterwards, I left the bed for the bathroom. When I returned with a warm, wet washcloth and began cleaning her up, she lazily asked, “Is this that aftercare shit?”
Grinning, I said, “Yes, sir…it is.”
ELLA
Carlos cooked breakfast for us the next morning, and I had to basically drag Armand out of bed to the kitchen to eat with us. He wore his slacks and a white wife beater. Even with the dredges of sleep clinging to him, he was absolutely gorgeous. It was obvious that Carlos was taking note of that, too.
Staring down at the food before him, Armand said, “This looks good. You ain’t poison it or nothing, did you?”
Carlos laughed. “Naw, man. Eat up. I hope you like Denver omelets.”
“I do,” Armand said, still staring at the plate.
Rolling my eyes, I asked. “You wanna switch with me?”
“Nah, I don’t want you to die, either. I couldn’t take that shit,” Armand said, finally taking a bite. He nodded, and I grinned over at Carlos.
No sexy NBA players were poisoned in my home that day.
You think you’re better than On One because you came from money. You ain’t shit!
I still can’t believe you did On One like that, missed his memorial to go to a basketball game! You just wanted to be seen.
Bitch.
I used to think she was nice. Now I hate her.
Somebody needs to kick her ass!
FUCK YOU ELLA MCCLAIN!
She’s canceled!
“Why haven’t you been using security since you’ve been in St. Louis?” my dad asked, pulling me from reading the comments on my latest post—a picture of that morning’s sunrise—back into our conversation.
I fought not to sigh into the phone. “Because I don’t need it here. I’m practically a hermit. I don’t really go anywhere except to Uncle Leland’s house and the Cyclones home games. I have my groceries delivered or do QuickEats. My property is gated, and I have an alarm system.”
“Ella—”
“Daddy, please. I just want some normalcy. That’s one of the reasons I moved here, remember?”
He did sigh into the phone. “Princess, these people on social media have lost their damn minds. Do you not see the comments they’re leaving you, threatening you because you didn’t go to One’s memorial? You’ve got to take your safety seriously.”
“I am. If I decide to venture out more, I’ll use security. I used it when I traveled to Paris, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, how was Paris? I’ve been meaning to ask you about that.”
“Mom showed up.”
“Well, you know how she and Claude can be. They share a strange friendship. They either love each other or hate each other to extremes.”
“Yeah. So anyway, I left early because of it. I’m good, though.”
“Good. Ella, is there something going on with you and Armand Daniels? I saw him staring at you during the party. I know that look.”
“Daddy…”
“Is it that he just wants you? Because I know you’re not entertaining the thought of—”
“Daddy!”
“All right, all right. You’re grown but understand this…I will kill his ass. You got me? Leland doesn’t think he’d be that stupid but that’s ‘cause he’s married to his mama. I don’t put anything past niggas, especially that little nigga.”
“Oh my god,” I groaned.
“God is the only somebody who’ll be able to save his ass; that’s a promise.”