Hot Sugar: A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance

by Cassandra Dee

“Not now, Mason,” she whispers in the phone. Because Carrie thought I was talking dirty, but it’s not that.

  “No, sweetheart. We’re not talking about clothes. I’m coming to get you. We’re gonna look at apartments right now. This is what your sister needs.”

  I stride out of my office, glancing at Rachel while waving a hand. She nods. My secretary will hold all calls while I’m gone.

  And Carrie laughs then, a joyous, musical sound.

  “I’ll see you when you get here,” the brunette murmurs before hanging up.

  And in ten minutes, I’ve got my broker waiting, Carrie and Nicole on my arm.

  “You ready to see some places?” I ask, eyebrows arched. “You ready to get your socks knocked off?”

  Nicole shoots me a toothy grin.

  “Yeah! Thanks Mason!” she practically bounces.

  The first two apartments are less than stellar, probably only two thousand square feet. Fixing the broker with a stare, I ask for more. And slyly, Gina presses the ‘PH’ button on the elevator, like she was expecting this. Ah, my broker knows me too well.

  The doors hiss open to a large open space with hardwood floors and windows lining every wall. The view is breathtaking, with pure, undiluted sunshine streaming through the windows.

  Carrie gasps with appreciation, but it’s Nicole that’s confused.

  “This is the lobby?” comes her small voice.

  The broker shoots me a knowing smile.

  “No, honey, this is the apartment,” Gina holds her arms out. “We’re standing in the apartment already.”

  Because the penthouse is a full-floor space, the elevators opening straight into the foyer. But Nicole doesn’t get it.

  “So anyone can just come up the elevator and come in? There’s no door,” she asks, confused.

  But Gina waves a key.

  “No, sweetie, I used this. Only you would be able to access this level. It’s all yours,” she states. Nicole gasps as the broker smiles knowingly. “Now let me take you on a tour. It’s absolutely beautiful, top of the line everything.”

  And Gina’s not exaggerating. The penthouse is gorgeous, bright and airy with modern amenities, including a chef’s kitchen, two large bedrooms, each with its own en suite. The private rooftop patio is the cherry on top of the sundae.

  “No furnishings?” I ask Gina once we’re back in the kitchen area, Carrie and Nicole still gabbing excitedly behind us.

  “Whatever you like sir. Right now, it’s empty space, but we could bring in some furniture overnight if you prefer. It’ll be in move-in state tomorrow,” she offers.

  Good. This is exactly what the girls need. Or exactly what Nicole needs because I plan on Carrie staying somewhere else.

  “Do you like it?” I ask my beautiful brunette. She turns wide brown eyes to me, filled with gratitude and something else. But before the girl can answer, her sister bursts in.

  “I like it!” Nicole chirps and I chuckle, giving Gina the thumbs up to start the paperwork.

  But something’s bothering my sweet thing.

  “Baby, what’s wrong?” I tug at her wrist as she steps out onto the balcony.

  “Mason, you know what’s wrong,” she says softly.

  “I want you to have the best, sweetheart. What’s wrong with that?” are my rough words.

  Turning to face me, she gestures to the view with one hand.

  “We can see Central Park from here, Mason. This is crazy,” she murmurs. “It’s too much.”

  But it’s not crazy, nor is it too much.

  “No sweetheart,” I say in a low voice. “This is perfect for you. You deserve it.” And with that, I pull her into my arms, dipping in for a delicious kiss.

  Aw fuck, it’s good. Her response is immediate, those sweet lips parting under mine, giving and full.

  “Mason,” she sighs against me, nipples growing hard against my chest. “Oh Mason.”

  I grind my hips a little, erection already stiff and hard.

  “Fuck,” is my bitten off growl. “Your sister and the broker are still here. Otherwise I’d fuck you right now, out in the open.”

  And her cheeks go pink, boobies heaving quickly. But my girl catches on fast.

  “I know Mason,” is her whispered admission. “And I’d let you do it, deep in my cunt.”

  With that, I’m dumbfounded. Because there’s no more innocent little nothing, making like she doesn’t know. Instead, my cumbucket is admitting the truth. She wants to be my cumslut. She wants to let me fuck her hard, again and again.

  Oh shit.

  How did things spiral out of control so fast?

  I have to be in her.

  Now.

  But the broker’s voice interrupts our reverie.

  “You guys ready to go?” Gina calls. “The sun is setting.”

  And with a low growl, I take Carrie’s hand.

  “Later sweetheart,” is my rumbled promise. “Later, that sweet puss is getting fucked hard.”

  And she blushes again.

  “Yes, Mason. Yes, absolutely.”

  Oh shit!

  But amazingly, we’re able to keep things PG in front of her sister. The ride back to my apartment is quick, just a few minutes in the car. And after a quick tour of my home, I show Nicole to the guest room. Strategically, it’s at the end of the hallway, practically soundproof and blocked by a house plant. The blonde’s blown away at the prospect of having her own room.

  “Really?” she gasps. “This is all for me?”

  I nod.

  “Yep, until the new apartment’s ready. All you.”

  Nicole’s eyes go wide. The girl’s in awe, and I catch her running her fingers across every marble surface she passes.

  But still. A man needs food, and my stomach rumbles loudly.

  “Hungry?” I ask, and both Nicole and Carrie nod enthusiastically. So like a real family, we order a bunch of Asian takeout, crowding around the dining room table with chopsticks in hand.

  “You won’t like that,” Carrie warns Nicole about a shrimp pad thai. But the girl defiantly scoops a large spoonful onto her plate.

  “Eww!” the blonde blurts out, spitting her mouthful into a napkin. Carrie merely rolls her eyes as I calmly help myself to more. I feel like we’re two parents with a misbehaving child.

  “Come on, eat up,” Carrie encourages her sister.

  “But there are peanuts!” Nicole whines.

  The brunette frowns.

  “Are you allergic?” I ask wryly.

  “No, she’s just never liked them,” Carrie answers for her sister.

  But Nicole jumps in then.

  “They’re disgusting. The nutty flavor, ugh, gross,” she shimmies her shoulders while sticking out her tongue.

  Carrie and I share a glance. We really are parents to an adolescent, someone with child-like tendencies.

  “Come on,” Carrie says patiently. “Eat up. You’ll like it. Plus there’s lemongrass, your favorite.”

  And slowly, Nicole takes another bite, chewing slowly before swallowing.

  “So?” Carrie asks.

  Nicole shoots her a grudging look.

  “I guess it’s okay.”

  My girl nods.

  “Good, then finish your portion. It’s healthy for you, lots of nutrients.”

  And I marvel how Carrie slips seamlessly between confidante, protector, mother and caring sister. How is this possible for someone who’s only eighteen? How in the world can she juggle so many roles without letting a ball slip?

  And the brunette catches my eye, smiling slightly.

  “You too Mason,” she admonishes playfully. “You eat too.”

  With a growl, I’m on it. No weird food problems for me. In a few minutes, all the noodles are gone, as well as the delicious black bean broccoli and some fried rice for kicks.

  But the food does something to me. Because as Nicole excuses herself to watch some TV, the taste of spicy sauce stokes a fire within. I need spice. I need Carrie, the des
peration immediate.

  And she can feel it. The brunette turns my way suddenly, brown eyes limpid. I take my time, admiring those thick thighs and voluptuous ass. Stalking her like prey, my arms wrap around her waist from the back, pulling that softness to my stiffness. Oh yeah, there’s my erection, hard and full, pressing insistently in the small of her back. Subtly, I grind a little, Carrie’s eyes fluttering closed, her breath coming fast.

  “The maid will clean this up,” I whisper in her ear.

  The girl twists to look at me, big brown eyes limpid.

  “It’s okay, I can handle it,” she murmurs. “I don’t mind.”

  But I’m not taking no for an answer.

  “I only have one night with you before your new apartment’s ready. So you’re not cleaning up, sweetheart,” comes my harsh growl. “Put that down.”

  And suddenly, the fire in Carrie’s eyes burns bright with desire, meeting mine. Because my sugar baby is on the same page. We crave each other, we hunger wild and fierce. And even in this homey setting, with the table cleared and her sister in the other room, it can no longer be denied. I’m getting into that sweet body … tonight.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Carrie

  In just twenty-four hours, my whole life has changed. Last night I spent countless hours online looking for apartments. They were cheap for sure, little boxy things with no sunlight and no space. But today, everything’s changed. Today, Mason rented a penthouse for me and Nicole.

  And I appreciate it. The billionaire knows how much I love my sister. He knows what a hard life Nicole’s had, with little joy, affection or caring.

  So to see the look on her face was priceless. The absolute wonder and awe, like a five year-old at Disneyland spying Cinderella for the first time. And I appreciate it. I’ll never be able to repay Mason for his generosity, and how he went out of his way for a member of my family.

  And yet, I’m embarrassed. My parents have always been like this, and it never gets better. Jim and Rhonda drunk twenty-four seven, lurching around like idiots, my face scarlet as horrified citizens look on.

  “I’m so sorry,” is my stiff beginning. “I’m so sorry for all of this,” I say, hand gesturing futilely. Nicole’s socked away in front of the TV, her door closed. Mason and I have retreated to his bedroom, the dark wood imposing, all navy blue and black.

  The big man lounges casually in an armchair, sipping at a glass of amber liquid.

  “No worries,” he says carelessly. “I’m just glad you’re out of there. I wish I could have done it sooner,” he speaks again, blue eyes flickering over my curvy frame. And right on cue, I go hot all over.

  “You swooped in like a knight in shining armor,” is my grateful whisper. “Seriously like a knight slaying a dragon.”

  He shrugs again, all careless male elegance, black hair rakish.

  “You were screaming sweetheart,” he rumbles, blue eyes penetrating. “I heard you screaming, and Jim had to pay.”

  I take a deep breath.

  “I want to repay you,” is my rushed admission. “I don’t have money, you know that. But I want to repay you another way.”

  The billionaire’s eyes gleam, darkly lustrous.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  The thing is, I’m not sure. Striptease? Offering to ride him? As a newbie, my repertoire’s not exactly advanced.

  “Well, I thought,” come my hesitant words. “I thought.”

  But the billionaire interrupts.

  “How do you feel about anal play sweetheart?”

  The air leaves my lungs.

  “You mean like last time?” are my whispered words.

  “Yeah like last time. But we’re working towards something bigger. Much bigger, if you get what I mean.”

  My cheeks color, pussy moistening down below. Because last time, he crammed his fingers into my butt, but there was no dick. Instead, he merely let me feel and adjust, the penetration so delicious.

  So I nod.

  “I could do anal,” is my sweet admission. “I think I could do that.”

  His eyes gleam again, that big body on alert.

  “Good,” he says. “Go get that box from the corner of my room.”

  My head whips around. What? What box?

  But there it is, a wooden chest tucked discreetly on the dresser. And slowly, I lift the cube into my arms. It’s curiously light, almost like there’s nothing inside.

  “Put it on the bed,” Mason instructs, elegantly still in that high-backed armchair. “Now open it.”

  And slowly, I lift the lid. Oh my god! There’s all sorts of sex toys in here. Butt plugs. Dildos. Anal beads. And a couple things I don’t recognize, like a giant stick with an electrical cord. Oh my god. Suddenly, realization rushes through my frame. Because it’s a vibrator, one so big and huge that it plugs into the wall. I’ve only used tiny battery-operated rabbits in the past, so this is mindblowing.

  Mason chuckles soundlessly from where he sits.

  “You know what you’re looking at?”

  I bite my lip, flushing.

  “Yes. I used to watch porn on my laptop, just a little,” is my admission.

  His low growl is immediate.

  “Good. Because then you know how butt plugs work.”

  A flush runs down my chest, making my boobies heat, cunt gush.

  “I do,” are my words. “But why do we need one? Are you going to put that inside here?” I ask, gesturing to his cock before waving my hand vaguely in the direction of my back door.

  Mason’s laugh is harsh and soundless.

  “Oh sweetheart, you think you can fit my cock in your bottom on the first go? Baby, try again. You need to get stretched first. A lot. My fingers weren’t nearly enough.”

  Immediately, my cheeks flare.

  “Of course you’re big,” is my quick reply. But Mason won’t hear it.

  “Find the biggest butt plug in there and take it out.”

  All the air exits my lungs.

  “I’m sorry?” is my gasp.

  But the billionaire’s relentless.

  “Find the biggest plug,” he repeats slowly. “And take it out. Don’t make me say it again.”

  Slowly, my hands reach inside, fumbling through the toy chest. Cold chains brush against my fingers, then something rubbery and soft. But finally, I manage to find an enormous plug, three inches long and at least two inches around.

  “This one?” I whisper, almost unable to speak. “How about this one?”

  The billionaire’s eyes gleam, pants jerking at his crotch.

  “Perfect honey,” his drawl sounds. “Now get undressed. Everything off.”

  And slowly, I obey. First comes my sweater and jeans, leaving me in nothing but scraps of lace. Like bullets, my nipples point at the alpha, panties already soaked through.

  He groans approvingly, eyes fixed to my cunt.

  “Good,” comes that deep rasp. “Keep going, sweet thing. Keep going until there’s nothing but skin.”

  And slowly, I unfasten my bra, slowly pulling down the straps so that my girls fall out, luscious and huge. By now, Mason’s got his cock in the air, fisting it slowly as my figure’s revealed.

  “Perfect,” he rasps. “Now that too,” he nods at my panties.

  And slowly, I obey. The whisper of silk rubs against my hands as I roll them down my hips and over my thighs. But something disgusting happens then. My pussy’s been creaming so hard that a long strand of goop stretches in a thin line from my cunt to my panties.

  “Oh!” is my embarrassed cry as the loop grows longer and thinner, transparent and fragile. “Oh oh!”

  But the billionaire isn’t deterred at all.

  “Taste it sweetheart,” he commands, big body unmoving as he fists his dick. “Taste that goopy junk.”

  “But how?” I ask, cheeks flaming, my hands immobile as I stand there, panties halfway down.

  He growls.

  “How else?” Those blue eyes flare. “Take yo
ur panties off sweetheart, and then cram them into your mouth.”

  My lips part then, eyes going wide.

  “Excuse me?” is my breathy pant, slightly offended. “Take my panties and what?”

  I’m sure I’ve heard wrong. But Mason won’t be denied. His eyes flash dangerously, a shiver running up my spine.

  “You heard me,” is that throaty rasp. “Now do it.”

  And limbs trembling, I contemplate a refusal. This is beyond depraved. This is going into S&M and crazy bondage stuff that you only see on-line.

  But I can’t look away from the alpha. Those blue eyes seize mine, and before I know it, my body’s moving once more. The silk panties find their way all the way off my legs until I’m holding the lace limply from my hand.

  Slowly, I bunch the silk into a ball, but Mason stops me there.

  “Crotch out,” he hisses. “I want you to taste that pussy spunk.”

  And trembling, I unroll the lace and ball it up again, making sure that the wet part’s on the outside. Slowly, I lift it to my lips.

  “That’s it,” he growls, eyes ravenous as they devour my every move. “That’s it, eat it, eat it,” he almost croons.

  And opening my mouth wide, I obey. I push the lace panties between my lips, gagging a little. Little goops of pussy cream slide smoothly down my throat, tangy and fresh. Oh god, it tastes good.

  Mason’s eyes flash.

  “That’s right sweetheart,” the alpha says like he can read my mind. “Don’t even try to talk, you’re stuffed up,” he warns. “If you need to stop, tap your fingers like this,” he says demonstrating, “or roll that big butt of yours. Don’t even try to pull those panties out of your mouth.”

  I’m staring at him, astonished and yet so turned on. Because what’s going to happen? What’s going to be so disgusting and depraved that we have to use a safe gesture? Is this a wrestling match, where tapping signals no more?

  A shot of adrenalin runs through my frame, spine stiffening. And even totally nude, pussy and breasts swaying in the air, there’s a sense of defiance. I won’t let him rule me. I won’t.

  But my man has other things on his mind. He smirks slightly, that big fist smoothly working up and down his pole.

  “Now sweetheart,” he says, patting the bed by him. “Get up on here and work that butt plug into your pretty bottom.”