Manhattan Sugar (From Manhattan Book 1)

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Manhattan Sugar (From Manhattan Book 1) Page 15

by V. Theia


  “You’re annoying, do you know that.” I said without snap.

  Gray gave me his sneaky-boy smirk, melting me.

  “That’s okay. I’m a vessel for the Lord so you can forgive me.”

  The what now? I arched a brow. “Like to explain that?”

  “I’ll have you screaming ‘oh, god, oh, god’ in minutes, baby-girl.”

  Oh, my god. His ego.

  I ignored the pulse flaming between my legs.

  “You are crazy,” I shoved him with my shoulder, a little embarrassed that he was flirting with me after all the dirty things we’d shared.

  Sex with Gray. I’d reached my pinnacle. He was the man all men would be measured by. He had stamina and enthusiasm and his need to please me almost made me pass out.

  “It’s nice when you forget to be mean-girl.”

  I stuck my nose in the air and gave my pithy. “I have to keep you guessing, Grayson.”

  “You do that,” he said silkily. Hooded eyes full of want.

  My gaze followed him.

  “I think my sex and big cock subdued you,” he announced without an ounce of shame to his tone. In fact, his smug smirk was in full effect.

  Pants hanging off his butt, he stood and plucked me out of the seat just like that until I was wrapped around his lean body.

  “Hey, I have rights here, mister. You can’t be carrying me places without asking first.” I pressed open mouthed kisses to the pulse in his neck.

  “Bed, baby. It’s late. I need you under me.”

  I really shouldn’t stand for taking commands from this guy. And I wouldn’t. Just five more minutes as I wrapped tighter around him, a comforted sigh puffed out against his neck as he palmed both my ass cheeks and walked us through the apartment, switching off lights as we went.

  This whole sugar daddy shit was meant to be a joke.

  It was still a joke when he placed me in his bed and crawled in right behind me, tucking me under his chin making me feel like Thumbelina.

  It was still a joke when he threw his leg over mine, cuddled me in and kissed the side of my throat.

  Going to sleep curled in my sugar daddy’s arms?

  Yeah, that shit was a joke…

  Content, warm and relaxed down to my bones, I closed my eyes and slept.

  When you’ve had a night like I have, plunged into out of this world sex and hardly any sleep whatsoever, it was a miracle I stumbled my sleepy-self through the maze of his spacious apartment the following morning.

  Gray hadn’t been in bed beside me when I woke to the sun streaming in through the huge double windows to the right of the bed. After sitting against the high headboard rubbing my eyes for a minute and then using the bathroom I went to find my missing rock star.

  Passing through a hallway of displayed electric guitars mounted on platform stands, I inspected each signed instrument before I found Gray cooking in the kitchen.

  I was dying to snap pictures of him, both in my head and physical proof to Instagram later or at least show Sena …Since I didn’t know where I’d dropped my phone, purse or even my clothes last night that wasn’t going to happen.

  Sweatpants sat on his ass like some world-famous painter brushed them on in oils. I took a deep, silent appreciative breath, braced half in the kitchen just taking a minute to stare before I stopped being a silly, staring girl and got myself onto a stool. I’d seen him before; his gorgeous body wasn’t a surprise.

  Even as my sore body renewed with hunger I had to put brakes on that. He’d used me up and left me dripping raw. And not the deliciously raw they tell you in those romance books. No woman who had been fucked within an inch of dying from a weapon of a cock ever described her destroyed pussy as deliciously painful.

  Sore, tender, achy. I was all the above but couldn’t help my self-satisfied smile at the same time. Best night of my life and that included the snuggling.

  “Morning, baby-girl. I didn’t expect you up yet. I had calls to make.” I mumbled a reply that would have meant good morning but this time of day I made my limbs work, I couldn’t promise my tongue and voice box too. He’d have to get used to my morning sulkiness.

  Gray placed a mug of steaming, creamy coffee in front of me but captured my lips by leaning down before I could take a sip.

  His kiss revived all the passion between my legs and I moaned against his seeking tongue, twining my fingers in the back of his hair, giving a tug. Gray stroked the side of my head, dropped two more kisses on my lips, leaving me breathless and disorientated.

  I puffed a sigh, his forehead meeting mine. “You get me the same way, India. I loved waking up beside you. Hated leaving you in bed.”

  I mumbled another reply. This time tongue-tied because of his delicious kiss.

  “Want to grab your coffee and I’ll give you the official tour?”

  Room after gorgeous room Gray held my hand in his and showed me around. Never once did he specify one of the three spare bedrooms was going to be mine.

  He expected me in his room.

  My belly flopped over.

  Strangely giddy.

  I had a feeling being giddy in the foreseeable with Gray was going to be something I’d have to get used to and fast. The guy was full of surprises. And for someone who liked order … or the façade of it to appease my inner anxiety I wondered how that would go between us? Better to find out, I suppose.

  I wanted to take this chance.

  Wanted to see where we could go in a relationship that started with tears and a whole lot of sad truth and ended with this unexplainable giddiness.

  “It’s not really a lived-in apartment, I know.” He said once we’d made it back to the kitchen. He got back to his pan of eggs before grabbing a box of cereal and a bowl for me. Seriously, could he be any more perfect? “If you want to redecorate go for it. I’d love your touch on the place, baby.”

  I perked up. I loved interior décor. It was one of the things I’d miss about my apartment. I’d spent a lot on décor items making it look like a home.

  “I could do that,” I conceded, pouring a bowl to the top with Frosted Flakes. “I mean, if you really want it. You say that now until you come home to a couch of diamanté pink cushions.”

  Gray chuckled, curving his brow in that way that made my insides squish to melted goop. My eyes fell to his crotch and yup… he was semi-hard.

  “I mean it. Do whatever you like. I want you to feel at home, India. That means making it yours, ours.”

  Holy fuck, the food turned to dust in my throat and if not for impeccable gag reflex I would have choked to death in Gray’s t-shirt and no panties.

  Ours.

  “You know it’s crazy, right? People will say this is nuts. We don’t even know if we’d like living together, Gray.” I said in a run-on sentence, slight panic settled in my bones. “I’m a party-girl. What if I come home too late and annoy you?”

  That one was easy—a test I suppose, since I wasn’t concerned in that lifestyle anymore.

  “If you have company, then yeah, I’m going to be annoyed and violent getting rid of them,” he smirked. “If you want to go out partying, we’ll go. I want you to come to the gigs, too.”

  “What if you find me messy and don’t like if I leave towels in the shower.”

  “Housekeeper. It’s what I pay excellent money for.”

  I huffed. “How do I know if you put the toilet seat down?”

  Gray half-grinned. “There’s several bathrooms in the apartment. I want you here, baby. We’ll compromise and talk through issues we might have. Nothing you say will make me think differently. Make this place ours, however you want. Blue, pink, emo black. Go for it, if it makes you settle in quicker.”

  He really was making us a couple just like that.

  Just that simple for him.

  “If I’m going to move in here with you. Temporarily.” He frowned, but otherwise let me go on. “We’re going to need some ground rules, mister.”

  Folding his arms why did I g
et the impression he resembled a high-powered, highly-sexed sultan about to take on a 50th wife? And why did my body flame-bomb because it was me?

  Leaning down over the island so I could demolish my flakes, my elbows braced on the granite I saw him checking out my legs before his eyes returned to mine.

  “Firstly...”

  He chuckled. “How many rules are there? Do I need a stiff drink? Should I cancel all appointments for the week?”

  “God doesn’t love smart asses, Grayson. Now shush that pouty mouth while I check through these very important cannot be broken rules.”

  His mouth quirked, and he motioned for me to go on.

  “Firstly, we need pizza night. A designated day.”

  One lofty brow raised. “Wasn’t expecting that. I like pizza. We can do that. What day suits you?”

  “Sunday’s and absolutely no pineapple. I will leave out of the front door dressed as I am right now if you say you’re a pineapple pizza eater.”

  “I will never touch another piece of pineapple again, baby. In fact, I’ll tell the housekeeper she’s fired if any pineapple makes it over the door.”

  Smartass. I grinned.

  “Have you done this sort of thing before?” I elaborated when his arrogant brow rose as if to say he needed more information. “Took in a homeless girl and became sugar daddy Gray.”

  He fucking laughed. A hot, rumbly sound that warmed every part of me. I jammed fingers in his ribs which only made him go off again. Gray ticklish. Something to note for later, I thought.

  “This is my first foray into sugar daddy-dom. Though, the way you keep refusing everything I try to give you, it’s nothing like I looked up online.”

  Eyes wide. “You actually researched how to be a sugar daddy? Gray!” I cracked up.

  Touched at his dedication.

  We played the joke, but we both knew this wasn’t anything like those sugar baby situations.

  His money and how he wanted to throw it at me to fix all my problems were the reason I held back.

  Not gonna lie. I found it sexy as hell that we would joke about him being my sugar daddy. It may be my secret fetish.

  “Maybe.” He said non-committal. But his cheeky smile said differently. “What’s next? Hit me with it so I can get my hands on you again.”

  He all but rolled the words off his tongue in a sexually gifted package I found myself eager to please despite my delicate body.

  I clenched. “Nope, not happening, stud. I’m closed for business, your cock wrecked me.”

  If I hadn’t witnessed it with my own two eyes, then I never would have believed a sweet man like Gray could get cockier in a few strides across the white tiled kitchen floor until he had me lifted on top of the granite and my legs spread so wide I was displayed to his eyes.

  Luckily, I wasn’t shy.

  “I made you sore, baby-girl? I’m sorry.” His smirk didn’t appear apologetic. Nor were his fingers when he moved them between the inch separating us, seduced with his scent my eyelids flickered closed before pinging open when he plied an ever so softly given stroke down my slit and back up again on the puffy flesh, making me shudder. Oh, god, that felt nice.

  “Is this where I hurt you?” It was a boastful smile. According to the sudden drumming of my pulse, it’s my favorite smile of Gray’s so far. “I think I know how to make it better.”

  “You’ll keep that peach-can thick missile away from me, mister.” I only half meant it. My body was geared and ready to go. I could take one for this team because I’d never wanted anyone like I did Gray.

  Only, he didn’t make a move to slide off his pants.

  Instead, he used a foot to yank a bar stool closer and straddled it directly in front of my spread knees. He was face level with exactly what he’d made sore.

  Jesus. And the way he lowered his head and inhaled then smiled up at me … endorphins flooded, and my heart gave a lazy roll that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with my feelings for Gray.

  Excitement popped in my blood and a little fear, if I’m honest.

  He terrified me with what he made me feel.

  I wanted his mouth and I wasn’t shy in telling him so by threading my fingers into his hair. “Get to work, Dr. Sugar.”

  He chuffed a laugh against my inner thigh, dragging his wet tongue across my skin until I thought he was trying to force me into begging.

  A sigh escaped, and I let go of his hair when he found what I needed. I leaned back a little, the better to watch his dark head moving in a rhythmic form.

  This wasn’t foreplay.

  It wasn’t Gray trying to seduce me into coming hard for him again by sucking on my clit or ramming me with his tongue.

  This was him soothing my tender, well-ravaged body using his worshipping tongue with slow, methodical, driving-me-crazy sweeps of lips along my sex.

  Kissing me until I buckled with new arousing wetness.

  Without me having to say a word, he knew what parts of me to kiss to put me back together with the most acute tenderness I’d ever felt before.

  Everything inside me unknotted at the seams.

  The momentum building in me.

  I murmured his name, heavy eyelids drifted closed. My breathing irregular.

  He was tender coaxing my clit out from under its hood by flicking his tongue and my body buckled to his command to let him do this for me. For him.

  A sob fled from deep inside my throat.

  Syrup for blood I moaned his name again.

  Steel eyes sparkled looking up at me. His lips sexily glossy, he licked them slowly. Desire on his stained cheeks.

  “This is me taking care of you, baby.” Thumbs worked me in tandem. “Like I said I would. I always will. I loved how you took all of me and screamed my name when this beautiful body shook from the inside. I was too rough with you that first time, I wanted to take my time, but I couldn’t resist this body,” his hands stole beneath his shirt I wore, pushing it further over my hips, lips trailed across my belly as his hands massaged the inside of my thighs.

  The way he was looking at my mouth a second before he took it had me leaning forward. Not a hard kiss as expected.

  Gentle … cajoling.

  Inviting my tongue to roll into his mouth and before I could get into it he swept me off the counter held me against his chest as he made the way through the apartment to the bathroom where he deposited me on the sink this time before he filled the huge oval shaped sunken bath big enough for three.

  I’d loved this room on our tour. I could already picture all my bathroom stuff on the counter tops with its double sink unit and mirrored walls. Down the other end was a walk-in shower with the waterfall showerhead.

  “Do you like smelly stuff in your bath?”

  I smiled and nodded. “I like smelly stuff.”

  He tipped in something that smelled floral and made the water turn pink and only when the water filled halfway did he turn to me then slipped the shirt off my shoulders and scooped me up. I could get used to being carried.

  Gray didn’t climb in after me as I hoped.

  Instead, he crouched down, kissed my forehead. “Relax,” and then used a cloth and liquid soap to clean and to sooth between my legs. Only it had the reverse effect when my body was so fucking highly attuned by the time Gray was finished rubbing my sex gently I was ready to beg for a climax.

  “You did that on purpose,” I complained with a girlish hush to my tone when he held my hand to climb out of the bath and a towel wrapped around me.

  “Did what?” I didn’t buy his innocent twitched smile.

  My body was on fire. And I wanted to punch him for taking me to the cliff only to leave me dangling there.

  “Edged me.”

  Gray winked like the sexy god he was. “I don’t want to hurt you, India. We’ll play when we finish moving you in later …” the suggestion was thick.

  Both of my eyebrows flew into my hair. The sweet man knew about sexual edging. Fresh wetness gathered ben
eath the towel and I swallowed my groan as I turned to go find clothes.

  I was moving in with this charming sadist today. What had I done?

  ~*~*~

  Things got going faster than anticipated for the rest of the day.

  Dressed in printed leggings and a simple cherry blossom print tank top with flowered tennis shoes I was set for a day of packing.

  Gray, in similar comfortable clothes; worn denim jeans that licked his legs and white t-shirt that displayed his one sleeve tattoo.

  He was using his reading specs today and with his hair finger-fucked going in all directions he looked both nerdy and hot as hell.

  At every chance the man made sure to touch me. A hand brush, a finger moving my hair aside. He stroked me with his silver-fox eyes to keep me in that heightened aware state all day long.

  If I thought, he was superman before, it was nothing to watching him take charge. Gray showed me just how capable he was.

  First, by taking the day off from work. He delegated to his marketing manager. Then he got a moving company on the phone and had them agreeing to be at my place that morning to pack up everything I was bringing. I didn’t ask how much money he had to throw at them for that quick rush job. Beside a few pieces of my own furniture, my apartment was rented partially furnished with the essential electrical appliances, so it was just my personal effects and a few choice pieces I’d bought over the years I was bringing with me.

  After that, once I’d finished the necessary calls to the utility services and changing over my address officially with my bank and all the other places that made up the footprint of our adult lives, he said we needed food before finishing up at my apartment, so we headed out on foot to lunch in a small mom-pop bistro just around the corner from Gray’s place.

  And if our sex had been a burst of frenzied connection then our hour-long talk-about-everything conversation over coffees and bagel sandwiches was just the icing on a very fat cake.

  The spontaneous conversations that animated you. We had those.

  He made me laugh, and I loved his band stories of when he and the guys formed Trinity Zone. Of course, it started out as a drunken joke as all good ideas did.

 

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