"Last night was fun," Desta says to me with a huge grin on his face, a cup of coffee in his hands, and his empty plate before him.

No, we did not have sex last night; we played "Just Dance" on his Wii, and he kicked my ass.

"Fuck off," I growl.

I've been living at Desta's house for the past two weeks, and it's been amazing.

For one, he has a pool, and after the first week of waiting for the birth control to kick in, we got to fuck bareback in the deep end of the pool.

God damn, my cunt contracts every time I think about it.

He also has many, many sex toys, all of which were brand new, even the riding crops, paddles, whips, cuffs and canes.

"I wanted to start anew with you," he said when I asked him the reason for this; that just made me melt.

Anyway, he's looking at me with amusement in his eyes over the rim of his coffee mug, when his phone vibrates from the table. He frowns, picks it up, then his eyes light up like a kid on Christmas. 

"What?" I ask him eagerly.

He looks up at me with a huge grin, his russet eyes dancing with glee. 

"My brother's coming back to St Andrew today. He's staying here for a few days." The smile drops suddenly from his face. "You'll be okay with that?"

"Of course, Desta. He's your brother. Why wouldn't I be okay with it?"

"Because it won't be just us anymore."

To be honest, I have been enjoying living with him alone, just the two of us. But I'd be lying if I said that I didn't want to meet his brother, and see how they interact.

"I think I'll survive," I say with a smile.

*** 

In the one day that he has been here, Mason has proved to be one of the sweetest people I have ever met. He has this kind, sweet smile, and he's always offering to help, always offering brotherly advice, always cracking a joke.

I can see why Desta loves him.

These are the thoughts bouncing around in my head, as I sit alone in the living room, when Mason decides to join me.

"Oh, hello, Mason."

He shorts, then says, "No need to be so formal, hon. You're family."

I blush, and look down. "Sorry, I just—"

"Nah, it's fine."

We sit in silence, in front of the television, as Beyoncé, on a beach, sings about how she woke up in the kitchen.

"Desta's been different." These words pull me out of my trance.

I turn to look at Mason, who is sitting beside me. "How so?"

He bites his lip and looks over my head, as if trying to find the right words to explain.

"Desta's always acted confident and super sure of himself. That's always what he wore on his exterior." He then pins me with his gaze. "It was a façade."

I think back to all the times that his façade cracked; when he said that I would leave him for a "brown boy named Ryan"; his anger and fear when I left him here, sleeping. Sometimes, he used to look at me as if he was afraid that I would just get up and leave.

Key term, used to. Because ever since I told him I'd try to get over my fear of love, he's seemed much more confident. 

"When I came here yesterday morning," Mason says, pulling me back to the present once again, "I almost didn't recognise my brother. Something changed inside him. He doesn't have to put up a pretence of confidence anymore, because that façade became reality. I believe that you're to blame for that." He has that kind smile of his on his face now.

Shit. Hearing this from the brother of the man I love... that carries a certain amount of weight.

Because I never thought of it that way; I thought Desta just had an epiphany and realised just how amazing and beautiful he really is.

Yeah, but something must have caused that epiphany, you idiot.

"He's so in love with you. You have a certain amount of... power over him. Please, don't hurt him. He's been hurt so badly already."

Mason's eyes are pleading with me. I look at him, and promise him the only thing that I honestly can — something that sounds so familiar to me by now.

"I'll try."

***

I'm on Desta and my bed, reading the script for the female lead in a play that I want to audition for.

Rozii, who had decided to take up the roll of agent without me knowing, because I am, in her words, "too much of a lazy rass to look a likkle side wuk"* gave me the script this morning, and told me to go home and read it.

To say I'm fucking thrilled would be an understatement.

The door is open, which means that you can enter the room silently. However, as soon as he steps into the room, I feel it — his presence.

He emits lust like the sun emits heat, and I know that he didn't come to say "hello".

"I know you know I'm here, Ezinma," he says in a husky voice.

I let out a shaky breath. "Hello, Desta. What are you doing home so early?"

When I turn my head to look into his eyes, I couldn't give a fuck about why he's here; I just want him to sit on his dick.

"Well... work was slow today," he says, approaching me, as I am still lying on the bed. I have to press up on my elbows and tilt my head to keep him in my line of vision. 

"I thought... why am I waiting here, like a wasteman, for someone to show up, when I should be balls deep in my girlfriend's cunt?"

His words ignite me; my inner muscles clench, and I bite back a moan. However, through my haze of pleasure, something occurs to me.

"How did you know that I was here?"

He smirks, and I know his answer before he said it.

"I didn't. I showed up at the shop to fuck you there, and Roz said that you weren't there."

Just the image of Desta fucking me in my shop turns me on to no end.

He takes his shirt off, and swaggers over to me until he's right beside the bed.

"Sit up."

When I do, he literally tears the front of my shirt, and pulls it off, shocking me into silence. Since I'm not wearing anything under it, he takes one pierced nipple between his fingers and pulls, then slaps, causing me to throw my head back and moan.

I'm not wearing any pants, so he teases me through my panties.

"Please, Desta. I need you."

"How do you need me?" he asks with a wicked grin.

"I need you to fuck me!"

"Where?" he asks, sliding one finger under my panties and tracing my slit with the tip of his index finger.

"My cunt!"

"Like... this?" He asks, as he sinks a finger in and pumps it, stroking my g spot.

"N-no," I moan.

He frowns as if he's genuinely confused. What a prick.

"YOUR DICK!" I bawl, way past being embarrassed right now. 

He then tears my panties — what's with him and tearing my clothes today? — and steps back to finish stripping. Once he's done, he sits on his heels on the bed, fully erect, the metal glinting proudly on his penis. 

"Come here, Ezinma," he says, just above a whisper, but I hear it, clear as a bell.

I crawl over to him, and sit on my knees before him. Our knees are touching, and I can feel the anticipation in the air, almost tangible, biting into my skin. He scorches me with his gaze, and very deliberately, runs his tongue slowly along the lining of his upper lip.

My nipples and cunt contract even more, and I let out a shaky breath, but I am unable to break eye contact with him just yet.

His lips curl up into that sexy smirk of his, and he pulls his legs from under him and sits with his ass on the bed.

"Sit on my lap."

When I move to straddle him, he holds me fast, and rubs the ball of the barbel against my clit.

"Please, stop torturing me," I beg.

My plea is answered, and he slowly sinks into me, while I use his back as a scratching post, pleading and begging and sobbing into his ear.

"Ride it," he says, once he's all the way in.

I put my hands on his shoulders, and slowly, I begin to pump myself on and off of his cock. 

"Faster," he growls at me.

I speed up, but apparently I'm doing it wrong, because he suddenly grabs my hips and gives me one hard, full thrust.

"I want fast. I want rough."

Hands still on my hips, fucks me so hard and rough that within seconds, I'm screaming his name at the ceiling in the throws of my first orgasm. He continues to deliver quick, deep, deliberate thrusts, going balls deep, just as he had said moments before, and every time I deliberately try to thrust, his hands tighten on my hips, keeping me there, as if to punish me for getting it wrong the first time.

As for me?

I'm moaning and begging and screaming like crazy.

"Oh, god," I say when I come for the... well, I lost count. 

"That's right. Come for me," Desta grunts, thrusting slowly now, trying not to come, wanting to draw this out a little longer.

"One more," he says as he continues to move inside of me.

He grabs my face and kisses me, tugs on my bottom lip... and then, his tongue starts to mimic the movement of his dick. That does it for me. 

I come so hard, that I know that if he weren't supporting me, my back would be on the bed.

All the while, he's holding me in his arms, stroking my back and whispering sweet nothings into my ear.

I feel him kiss the top of my head, then my shoulder. When I open my eyes and look up at him, he's smiling at me, but I can see a hint of nervousness in his expression.

"What?"

"I... I wanted to ask you to do something." He looks down and bites his lip, unable to get it out. I place a finger under his chin and pull his face up for him to look me in the eye. 

Considering that he doesn't usually get this nervous anymore, this has to be something big.

"Talk to me."

He lets out a shaky breath, then his eyes harden in determination. 

"Will you officially move in with me?"