“Then why do you keep checking the time?” she asks with a lilt to her voice. The female’s hand is resting on her hip, feigning attitude, but I know what this is really about.
“Because as much as I enjoy showing you off in public, I can’t wait to get you home so I can have you all to myself,” I growl, expression already going hungry. And her soft giggle is music to my ears.
“Well then, how much longer do we have to be here? Because I’ve got a surprise for you tonight,” she coos coyly, running one finger down the front of my shirt.
Shit, we shouldn’t be doing this. We shouldn’t be openly flirting, not in front of all these professional acquaintances. But there’s a goofy grin on my face, a silly look complete with adoring eyes.
So I pull the brunette close, kissing that soft neck, uncaring of the onlookers. It’s strange, for sure. Usually, I hide my emotions, maintaining a mask of neutrality, like nothing can penetrate the shell. But now, all caution’s gone to the winds and I don’t fucking care. Mason Channing’s head over heels, folks. Yes, it’s true. She’s young, she’s luscious … and all mine.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Carrie
Coming to this function was unexpected, but it’s been good. People have been nice and not at all catty.
Because I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure what to expect at first. Usually, women aren’t so kind to me. They take one look at my curves and start thinking the wrong thing.
She’ll steal my boyfriend, they whisper.
She’s a ho, they gossip.
That girl only got Mason because she put out.
And words like that hurt a lot because the old saying’s not true. Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words sting even more. I know. My whole life, other people haven’t been so nice, even if it was just talk.
So I wasn’t sure what to expect at the gala, but everyone was perfectly polite. Maybe it was because I was with Mr. Channing. The CEO exuded confidence and dominance, darkly handsome in a black suit, blue gaze penetrating.
But now, at the end of the night, I’m worn out. My cheeks hurt from smiling constantly, and these heels are killing me. As if he can read my mind, the billionaire turns and meets my gaze from across the room.
The electricity is immediate.
My heart thumps loudly, adrenaline making me stand up straight.
And he walks over, strides long and sure.
“Hi gorgeous,” he says. “You ready to bust this joint?”
My answering smile is immediate.
“Yes please,” is my murmur. “If you don’t mind. Do you have to stay longer? I don’t mind,” are my hesitant words.
But the big man jerks his head.
“Naw, let’s go,” he growls. “I’ve had enough of this shit.”
And in an instant, we’re back in the Bentley, humming through the streets of Manhattan.
I thought I was exhausted.
Tired to the bone, ready to collapse after several hours on my feet.
But the moment we get into the apartment, fire rushes through my veins again.
Because I want him so bad. Those blue eyes all over my body, those hands on my curves. And yes, that dick in my cunt, making me feel good all over again.
“Big boy,” comes my low, throaty purr.
Mason’s eyes gleam.
“I thought you wanted to sleep?” he asks, one brow quirking. “I thought you wanted to get some zzz’s?”
I laugh slightly, edging onto his lap. He holds his glass away, the lowball of whiskey tinkling melodically.
But I’m doing more than that.
“Big boy, I have something for you,” is my husky smile.
His brow quirks again.
“What is it?”
The words are calm, but I can feel his erection jerk under my butt. And never breaking eye contact, I tug the top to my dress down, big boobies spilling out. Immediately, Mason ducks his head, meaning to catch a hard nip in his mouth. But I pull away, giggling.
“Big boy, like I said, I have something for you.”
He stares, blue gaze fierce.
“You better bring it then. Right now, pretty baby, because I ain’t waiting.”
And giggling again, I bring that tumbler to my breast.
“You like whiskey?” is my seductive murmur, one finger tracing around the edge of my areola. “You like boobies? Well, how about both then?”
And leaning forwards, I dip my massive tit into the glass. It’s hard for sure. The creamy flesh is so huge and luscious that I have to aim carefully, squeezing my flesh so that it can fit.
But finally, it’s done, and I pull back, nipple glistening under the light, coated with alcohol.
“How about both, big boy?” I coo, smiling lasciviously, grinding a little in his lap. “Twice as nice, right?”
Mason can’t be stopped now. In one fell swoop, his head’s on my breast, mouth suckling like a ravenous man. Oh shit, it feels good! My head falls back as cream rushes between my legs, pussy gushing freely now. Jolts run from my tip to my cunt, making me mewl and cry out.
“Oh god!” is my helpless coo. “Oh god, oh god!”
But Mason’s not giving up. Mouth against my breast, he growls.
“You asked for it, you dirty slut. You asked for this.” Because in the next second, he bites down hard on my breast, making me scream.
“Ahhh!” is my delighted cry. “Oh oh oh!”
Because the alpha’s working me over now. Taking my other tit in his hand, he squeezes and massages, then splashes whisky onto that breast as well. My entire dress is soaked now, but who cares? My billionaire’s got money, he’ll buy me another outfit. Another ten outfits, even if it’s to rip them off my bod.
Because Mr. Channing’s an animal now. The teasing’s got his cock hard, stiff as a hammer underneath my pussy, and with two big hands, he rips my dress straight down the middle.
“Oh!” I gasp, eyes wide and shocked. “Oh!”
But the billionaire’s look is grim.
“Like I said, pretty baby, you asked for it. Now dunk,” he commands, holding his glass out. There are still dregs of amber liquid left in the tumbler and I stare, dumbfounded.
“What …?” is my confused pant. “What?”
He growls.
“You heard me. Dunk your pussy in this. You wanted to mix alcohol in with our play, so do it.”
I can’t answer for a moment, mouth opening and closing silently. But then a protesting mewl comes out.
“But there’s not enough!” is my breathy pant. “There’s just a little bit of whiskey in there, and I can’t fit this into that,” I say as one small hand gestures to my steaming cunt.
Mr. Channing stares at the tumbler, contemplating. And then his head jerks.
“That’s true,” comes his harsh rasp. “So let’s do it another way, baby.”
Taking two fingers, he dips theg into the glass, scooping up the remains of the whiskey. Then he inverts his hand, holding the two digits straight up like a mini-flagpole.
“Fuck my hand,” is his harsh command, blue eyes flaring. “Get up and fuck this.”
A gasp escapes my throat at his crude words. What? Excuse me?
But Mr. Channing’s relentless.
“You heard me,” are his ruthless words. “You wanted to play with fire, and now here it is. Ride my hand like a fucking joystick. I want this Jim Beam in that sloppy cunt before I fuck it.”
I want to protest. I want to scream and negotiate.
But it’s too late.
I started this, and now the game’s got out of hand.
So the only thing I can do is obey.
Levering myself up, I kneel on my knees, still straddling his lap. And never dropping eye contact, my hand reaches down to slip between my legs.
“Like this Mr. Channing?” are my breathless words. “Like this?”
Because slowly, small fingers reach between my thighs to part my nether lips. And oh shit, but the scent of cream hits my nostrils t
hen. If before, I’d been gushing bad, then now it’s even worse. Literally, a thin strand of juice leaks out of my pussy then, dropping slowly to land on his cock.
Mason stares for a moment, transfixed. But then he jerks his fist again.
“Fuck it, baby. I want to see you work it.”
And putting both my hands on his broad shoulders, I raise up and position myself right above his fingers. Oh god, oh god. Am I really going to do this? Am I really going to lower myself down on his whiskey-covered digits, letting him stir my sweet cunt?
But the thing is that I want it. Bad. Desperately. I want to feel this aroused male in me, whether fingers, dick, or mouth. I need it, and like a whore, I lower myself, pussy opening and then swallowing that heavenly hand.
“Unnnh!” is my helpless cry, head tilting backwards, hips jerking slightly. “Oh unnnh!”
And oh shit, but as my cunt lips spread, everything goes black for a moment. Because it feels so good. He feels so good. And evidently, Mason agrees because that cock jerks beneath me, a wet spot appearing on the fabric.
“That’s it,” he grinds out. “That’s it, sweet girl. Now work it.”
And something in me bursts open. I was a virgin before I met the billionaire, an innocent who’d never had anything inside. Sure, I watched porn sometimes and read naughty romances, but nothing like this. My romance novels always involved a sweet prince who slayed dragons before rescuing the princess. Not a nasty alpha who wanted me to ride his fingers.
But it’s a new me. And with another throaty moan, I tilt my head back and squeeze my internal muscles, beginning the journey.
“Fuck,” he rasps. “Oh fuck you’re so young, so tight, so strong, my fingers are gonna break off.”
And I moan throatily, lost in the haze. Because right now, I’m going to take Mason for everything he’s worth. He wants me to ride his fingers? Then I’m gonna fuck them like it’s the biggest and best dildo around. I’m gonna cram my pussy full, bucking and squealing like a whore.
So grabbing those big shoulders, I go for it. My hips start humping up and down, big buttocks bouncing like giant balls.
“Unnf! Unnf, unnf!” are my desperate heaves, boobies flying as my cunt gets fucked. “Unnf, unnf!”
And the big man’s transfixed, struggling to hold his hand in place as my pussy swallows him again and again.
“Unnf! Unnf, unnf!” come my desperate heaves once more.
“Aw shit aw shit aw shit,” he grunts, watching where our bodies join. Because the billionaire knows me better than I know myself. He can feel the internal spasms, the helpless jerks that precede an orgasm. And staring like a ravenous beast, the alpha curves his fingers just so, stroking a secret space within my interior channel.
“Oh FUCK!” is my delighted scream, pussy exploding into a million different pieces. “Oh fuck fuck fuck ohhhhh!”
Because Mason’s targeted my g-spot and it feels so good. My cunt muscles clamp down once, hard, on his fingers before flying into pieces, tremors wracking my sweet spot, internal muscles going wild.
“Fuck!” I scream again to the heavens, big boobies bouncing and jouncing in his face as I’m fucked down below. “Fuck fuck fuck!”
And literally, my vision goes dark then. The ecstasy is so powerful, so amazing, that I can’t see, tremors wracking my spine, cunt and ass clamping and clenching involuntarily.
When I wake, I’m in the big man’s bed, my entire form drained, helpless and limp. But Mason’s got me. Carefully, he sponges my forehead with a warm, damp cloth and then reaches down between my legs.
“Oh god!” I squeal. “Oh god, oh god!”
Because is he really going to …?
But no, Mason chuckles deep in his throat.
“Baby you were the best thing I’ve ever seen. So responsive, so fucking hot.”
My cheeks color involuntarily, and a full body blush runs down my frame.
“What are you doing?” is my helpless gasp. “Oh!”
Because the billionaire’s not doing anything nasty. In fact, the opposite. He’s carefully sponging my swollen lips, the insides of my thighs creamy and stained.
“I want you clean,” he growls low in his throat, blue eyes fierce again. “Whiskey burns on sensitive tissues if you leave it too long,” he adds, staring at my sweetest space. “I don’t want this pretty pussy to suffer because we’re not done yet. Not by a long shot, sweetie.”
I stare, big boobies already beginning to rise, thighs spreading involuntarily. Oh god, oh god, what’s next? Even though the alpha literally knocked me out, my body’s already responding to his touch, ready to go where he leads.
“What, Mr. Channing?” comes my helpless mewl. “What do you want?”
The dark man grins slyly, positioning himself between my legs.
“I want this,” he says and slowly, the billionaire lowers his head to lap at my anus.
“What?” comes my shriek, jerking up. He just touched me where? He just licked me where?
But the alpha won’t be deterred.
“That’s right, every part of you is tasty sweetheart. So get ready, because it’s coming.”
And suddenly, there’s pressure at my hole. WHAT? I jerk up halfway, staring at the man. But he merely stares right back, those blue eyes burning up my soul.
“You’re gonna get buttfucked honey. Get ready to get buttfucked hardcore, sweet girl.”
And the words are so dirty, nasty, and yet simple. Mason’s merely stating what’s going to happen like it’s a certainty. And I have no choice but to obey. So leaning back, my legs spread further as I will my sphincter to relax.
“Yes Daddy,” is my whispered reply. “Yes, buttfuck me, I’m yours.”
And with an approving growl, he laps at my clit, a tremor jolting through my frame.
“Good girl,” is his raspy growl. “Good girl, you know what to do.”
And lying back once more, I try to relax. I try to breathe deep, to remember all my yoga classes, to summon the Zen within. Not that it matters. Because Mason’s relentless, and the pressure against my asshole intensifies deliciously.
“Slow,” he growls. “Slow, slow, that’s it baby girl.”
Because with a pop, the tip of his finger slides into my anus.
“Unnh,” is my achy moan. “Oh god, unnh.”
But Mason’s not done yet.
“I’m gonna give you another one,” he soothes. “You think you can take another one?”
It’s just a rhetorical question because the big man uses his first finger as leverage and pries me open, slipping a second one in along with the first. Oh shit! I just fucked his hand with my pussy, and now I’m being asked to accept a fist up my butt.
But there’s only one choice.
Submit.
And willingly, I do.
“Yes,” comes my heaving pant. “Yes, yes, keep going.”
The billionaire goes for it then. Slowly, he pushes two fingers into my rectal canal, testing its elasticity, the hot walls resisting slightly.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “You’re so fucking tight.”
I moan again.
“I can’t help it,” are my helpless words. “But oh … ahhh!”
Because Mason’s licking my clit then. That’s right, with two fingers jammed up my anus, he’s bent his head to lap at my nub like a ravenous dog, my insides going soft and loose.
“That’s it,” he growls into my folds. “I can feel your ass relaxing as your cunt gets tongue.”
And with that, the deep fucking begins. I know it’s not the same as male penis. I know his fingers are just fingers. But it’s good. It’s real good. I twist helplessly on the bed as he works my backhole while lapping at my clit. Oh god, oh god. This is so wrong. Do sugar babies do this? Are they depraved and nasty? And even worse, do they love it the way I do?
Because Mason’s opened new vistas to me. When I signed up for the service, I never dreamed it would be like this. There was the possibility of sex, yes. But I never th
ought I’d be helpless to him, a slave at his fingertips, humping and grinding anything he offered.
But here I am now, butt penetrated by his fingers as he eats my sweet hole. And just like before, my body can’t resist. With a long, low cry, everything spasms, electricity flying all the way to my fingers and toes.
“Oh FUCK!” is my scream into the universe. “Oh fuck oh fuck!”
Because it’s terrifyingly primal. I’m a virgin with the man she adores. I’m a sweet innocent who’s been turned into someone I don’t recognize. A whore. A slut. A creaming cunt on two legs who does anything her man demands.
And I don’t regret it one bit. In fact, regret doesn’t even enter the equation as my body flies through the vortex, every part of me spasming and twitching, centered on where his body meets mine.
“Mason!” is my helpless cry. “Yes, yes!”
And the big man is into it. He eggs me on, lapping furiously at my clit as those thick digits plunge into my anus again and again, stretching me wide.
“Yeah, baby,” he grunts. “Go for it. Because this is all mine.”
And with another scream, I let go once more, spiraling into free fall. Because what the billionaire said is true. I’m all his. He bought my body through a website … but now my heart belongs to him too.
CHAPTER NINE
Mason
Oh shit, oh shit. What have I done? Watching the girl sleep next to me should be peaceful and rewarding, but instead, my gut wrenches.
Because this arrangement has gone crazy overboard, spiraling into a chasm, totally beyond my control.
I pumped Carrie full of sperm. Not once, not twice, but a whole frickin’ five times last night. Our orgasms were endless, one rolling into another, our bodies calming before incredibly, revving back up again to go another round. Shit shit shit! Even now, as the brunette lies on her side, I can see those pussy lips, the swollen folds pink and still slightly wet.
Fuck.
They’re wet from my cum.
Slowly, I reach a hand down and lightly trace over that juicy crevice, bringing my finger up for a taste.
Oh shit, yeah that’s my cum. Goopy and sticky, chock full of Vitamin D.
Hot Sugar Page 8
