Craving Sugar

by Elena M. Reyes

  Maybe Jax was right. I’d never tell him that.

  “You haven’t answered me.” I tried to take a step back, but she tightened her leg around my hip.

  “Not so fast, Hendrix.” She brought us closer, used her hold on me to press her warmth against my cock. That miniscule skirt she’d worn tonight had ridden up just enough for me to catch a glimpse of what lay below.

  Small. Silk. Panties.

  “Are you going to continue fighting me?” Indescribable heat penetrated through the layers of clothing separating us, and my eyes nearly rolled back. Bucking against her heat, I rubbed my pant-covered length over the wetness seeping through.

  “No”—a low whimper—“but I am going to ask for another kiss.”

  “Is that so?” Lowering my lips to hers, I hovered over them. Let the sweetness of her breath graze my own. “And if I say no?”

  Tiny fingers embedded themselves in my hair and pulled, hard. “Wasn’t a suggestion. You seem to confuse my politeness with patience.” Beau jumped in place a bit, causing my hand to reach out and grasp her waist to help steady her.

  She used that to her advantage and lock both legs tightly around my hips. Squeezed her muscles—gyrated—while those lips skimmed from my collarbone to the edge of my chin. Not deterred by my small beard in the least, she bit down.

  And then higher.

  To my lips.

  Kissed them, before pulling the lower one between her teeth just as the door slid open on my floor. Blindly, I walked in with her supple body clinging to me, shoved against me in her own desperation.

  If her mission was to destroy my will, at that moment she won.

  Or maybe that had been the goal all along. To get me past rational thought and bring her back home with me.

  No one had been in my bed since...

  “Need you,” Beau mewled, her hands gripping the top of my shirt and pulling on the collar. Buttons fell, pinging on the hardwood floor while her fingers scratched across my chest. Burned me.

  Seared my skin everywhere she touched.

  My need for her was almost demonic.

  “Please forgive me,” I whispered in a tone that didn’t match my actions. Two steps in and the elevator closed. One pivot, and she was pressed against the doors, upper body resting against the cool metal. “You brought this on—caused my ardent urge to fuck you here.”

  “Hendrix, please!” With her body pinned by my hips, I brought my hands up and ripped her lace shirt down the middle. Let the tattered remains fall to the floor while I brought a bra cup down.

  Attached myself to the pretty pink tip and motherfucking growled.

  Beau smelled like berries and cream—her skin the finest of silks. She was sweet torture.

  “Why are you doing this to me?” I mumbled around her flesh right before I bit down. Pulled her in deeper. Abused the sensitive nipple with flick and nips. Fingers wandered across her chest and pulled the other cup down, pinched the hard little peak.

  Sucking on her skin, I traveled across her chest to the neglected breast.

  Left little bruises as a reminder. For her or myself. At that moment, I gave no fucks what it meant.

  Small hands wandered between us, helping to move her skirt up and over her hips. Spread herself wider in order to reach the belt around my waist. Fought with the leather until it gave, and the button and zipper followed its same path of defeat.

  “No underwear, Mr. Parker...” I twitched, the swollen head touching the soft fabric covering her from me. “Very hot...oh shit!”

  In response to her coquettish use of my last name, I pinched her left nipple while my right hand grabbed onto the front of her lingerie. Pulled on the lace. Stretched it to the point that her next scream was one of pleasurable pain.

  I dipped a finger just underneath the stretched waist and grazed her mound. Skimmed just a little above her clit. Wetness coated the tip, and I brought it between us.

  Brought my face closer to hers. “Open.”

  “What?” Before she could complain, I’d placed the soaked-in-her-essence finger on her tongue and wiped the tip down and out.

  “You’re going to be ethereal with my cock between those pouty lips.” Slanting my mouth over hers, I delved in and got a sample of her purest flavor. A tease to tide me over.

  I swallowed her scream.

  Took the air from her lungs while giving a final hard tug on her ruined panties. Torn lace dangled off one thigh, and my cock slipped between tender lips.

  Fuck, she feels amazing and I’m yet to bury myself inside.

  Beau pushed my pants lower with her trembling legs. Bared me. We were skin on skin.

  Slick and ready, she pulled back from my lips and stared me down. What was before me was a hot, sweaty...beautiful mess.

  Nothing had ever looked more glorious.

  Poised at her entrance, I rubbed the fat head from opening to clit twice. Used her slickness to pump myself once.

  Her eyes narrowed, green almost black from desire. “Take me,” she all but growled, and I obeyed.

  Those two words ruined my free will and with eyes closed, I buried myself to the hilt in one hard thrust.

  “Son of a bitch.” Immediately, her walls clamped down and my eyes opened. Torn between the look of rapture on her face and the obscene way she was stretched around my girth.

  Beau had trapped me inside, and I had to take a moment and breathe. To try and make this last longer than four pumps. I’ll be damned if I come before she does.

  “Oh God,” she writhed, eyes closed while her walls massaged my length. Her juices coated the top of her thighs and my skin. “Please, Hendrix...need you to move. To fuck me.”

  “Beg again. One more time in that whiny voice, nymph.”

  Green eyes snapped open and narrowed. Dared me to ask again. “Maybe I should make you beg.”

  Pulling all the way out, I maneuvered her legs over my arms and spread her wider. At my mercy. Held her like that with just the tip inside, pushing the fat head through her lips and over her clit.

  “Tell me, Beau. Scream it at the top of your lungs.” Again, I rubbed against the trembling bundle of nerves. Spread the pre-come from my slit over her tiny clit; combined our juices. She tried to bring a hand between us, but before she could touch more than her mound, I released one leg and grabbed her wrist. Placed it above her head and tsked. “Tell me how much you want my cock.”

  “Okay. Fine,” she yelled out. “I’m desperate for it. Please, Hendrix. Gift me your...fuck!”

  Without restraint I slammed back in and kept the brutal pace.

  It was one thing to tease her, but to hear the words... Fuck, I was a man possessed and took her with the same vigor.

  With the anger she created by breaking me down to this level of unhinged depravity.

  I was screwing a woman who’d put herself on a website that would help sell her to the highest bidder and couldn’t care less about it. Made it more sinful. Created a fog of lust so thick that I could barely take air into my lungs.

  And even as my chest burned, I plunged in deeper, grinding my pelvis over her clit until she was an unintelligible, euphoric mess in my arms.

  Thoughts of anyone other than me fucking her...

  “You will sign that contract, Beau. No more running,” I hissed out through clenched teeth, punctuated each word with a buck of my hips. Her walls spasmed. Seemed she liked being manhandled. Told what to do. “Say it. Tell me you will be my sugar, nymph.”

  “So close. Please,” she wailed, the fingernails of her free hand digging into my chest just above my heart. It broke the skin there, but the pain only intensified the pleasure, the euphoric bliss settling onto my heavy balls.

  Beau matched my every move with a gyration of her own.

  It took everything within me not to blow my load the next time her walls fluttered.

  “Say it.” Leaning forward, I nudged her hand out of my way and kissed her breast. Same spot she’d embedded her nails on my chest. “Agree to m
y terms.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You will.” And then I bit down hard enough to leave my mark. Let others know she was taken.

  At once, Beau drew in a deep breath and her body arched—seized—while coming all over my cock. Her juices and mine were heard each time I pumped in and out of her, now chasing my own completion.

  Each thrust prolonged her pleasure while I drew closer to my own.

  Once more she coiled tight and locked down on me. I was done.

  “Motherfuck.” Almost savage in the way I grabbed her hips with both hands and forced her up and down my length while spurt after spurt left my body.

  Filled hers with my essence.

  It took me a minute after to catch my breath and for the shake in my knees to lessen enough for me to lower us to the floor, her on my lap; curled up in my arms like a content kitty while my mind swirled.

  That fog of lust was receding and the consequences were staring me in the face.

  There was no going back now.

  What the fuck had I done?

  THIRTEEN

  If there was ever one thing she ever hated about me, it was my stubbornness.

  My head-first, tunnel-vision personality.

  How I never apologized for screwing anyone over that got in my way.

  Even when I am wrong, it’s never my fault.

  “Mm mm.” Beside me Beau stirred but didn’t wake. It was early. Just past seven, and I’d been awake for twenty minutes.

  I was exhausted, but my mind was restless, and I couldn’t sleep.

  I fucked her yesterday as I’d set out to do from the moment I’d seen her picture on the Craving Sugar site. Took her body as a beast would mounting his mate.

  Against the wall.

  On the floor of my living room when I couldn’t wait to reach my room.

  In the shower when she asked to wash off the night’s activities.

  And then again, just around three a.m. when I followed her into the kitchen for a drink of water. For her, I’d become insatiable. Spent the night perpetually hard each time the slip of a girl so much as blinked my way.

  Looking down, I pushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Not that it made much of a difference as she had that whole “just fucked and knocked out after” look going on.

  Once more she moved closer, her leg rising higher on my hip. I twitched. “Jesus Christ,” I grunted low, my hips rising just a tiny bit off the bed. This scene right here reminded me of mornings from my past.

  Another house. Another bed. Another companion.

  Shoved in my face why I needed to take a step back and regroup. Plan for the future.

  Slowly, I slid from beneath her warm body and drew the covers up high. She never so much as complained, showed me something new about her: my nymph was a heavy sleeper.

  Careful not to disturb her, I walked out and down the hall into my main living space where our clothes still lay strewn about. Her torn lace shirt by the elevator doors. The buttons from my shirt scattered while the fabric had managed to land on the couch’s armrest.

  My pants—which had been kicked off at some point—were near a side table by the entry, and I picked those up and put them on. Padded barefoot toward the kitchen and turned the coffee pot on before making a quick detour into my home office.

  There, on my desk sat a basic folder with a revised final contract. Something I spent a good deal of money on to gather the information needed to get her to agree. Not that she’d have much choice, but the less this turned into a fight, the better.

  Schooling was her priority; she needed the financial backing to finish and get her degree in education. Beau had been denied loans, and her parents, from what I gathered, couldn’t help.

  My investigator had done a thorough background check and she came back clean, with good grades and an average middle-class upbringing. Intelligent and well-liked by her professors and peers.

  Then, there was the matter of her job. If I paid for everything, there would be no need for her to work at that college bar. If she was to be eye candy for anyone, it would be me, and me alone.

  Fuck and no. Not up for negotiation.

  Beau would quit and come live with me on a permanent basis for the next six months. Another stipulation added—differed from the norm. Our contract would be short lived, and if I needed her in the future, she would be amenable to the request for the next two years at least.

  No other sugar daddies would be accepted.

  No boyfriends.

  Not even a one-night stand.

  Getting possessive much? No. Never. More like guarding an investment.

  Her reason for doing this was school, and I’d pay for that without an argument. Books, housing, and tuition until she was done and graduated. Everything would be set up to look as if it were a donation/scholarship from my company to aide a deserving individual.

  Grabbing the items needed, I walked back to the kitchen and served myself a cup of coffee and waited, sipping from my mug while the sun rose higher in the sky and the sound of feet padding in my direction carried through the apartment.

  At nine a.m. sharp, Beau Carter stood in my kitchen looking like innocent sin. Barefoot, fresh faced, and wearing an undershirt I’d taken off in my bathroom before heading out with Jax last night.

  “Good morning,” she mumbled, toe digging into the floor. “Can I have some coffee before I go?”

  “Have a seat.”

  At my formal tone, she frowned. “Better yet, I should just go. I have a friend that lives nearby...I’ll just meet her for brunch instead. Thanks.” Another baby. This I already knew. She’s the one that helped her get on that Craving site.

  “Sit, Beau.” Still, she stood at the entrance of my kitchen; I made the first move. Standing up from my stool at the breakfast bar, I walked over to her and linked her fingers with mine. Pulled her toward the seating area.

  She followed. It was reluctant, but she did, and I bit the inside of my cheek to hide a grin.

  “Hey!” she yelped as I lifted her up by the hips. Fingers digging in, I placed her on the stool I’d been sitting on.

  “Stay.” At my tut she rolled her eyes, a cute pout on those bee-stung lips. The urge to kiss—bite—them was near maddening, but I held my composure. I turned around and toward my coffee machine in order to keep my hands busy. “How do you like your coffee?”

  She—Beau—was temptation incarnate.

  A poisonous siren, and if I wasn’t careful, I would be bitten.

  “Depends.”

  “On?” I grabbed a mug from the cupboard and placed it on the granite top.

  “Do you have whole, soy, or coconut milk?”

  Turning to face her, I raised a brow. “Are you serious?”

  “You asked!”

  “Answer the question like a normal person.”

  Her eyes turned to slits. “Half milk—any of the three mentioned are fine—half coffee, and three sugars. There.”

  “You’re so bratty in the morning.” The chuckle escaped before I could hold it in. I’d been laughing a lot around her, it seemed. “Grab the coconut milk and prepare your own drink.”

  “Fine.” The stool scraped against my floors, and it took everything within me not to correct that behavior. After she sees the contract.

  So, while she worked on her coffee, I watched her. How at ease she moved around my kitchen while searching for what she needed. Even made us a bagel each with cream cheese before taking a seat once more.

  We ate in silence, yet I heard her silent questions each time her eyes flickered toward the folder.

  What’s that?

  Are we doing this again?

  Why are you so stubborn?

  Silly girl.

  Once done, I sat back in my seat. “That’s the amended contract. It’s final; has all my stipulations and the terms of agreement in place. You’ll see that a generous allowance has been decided for all your personal needs. Schooling is an expense on its own and has been—”r />
  She pushed her plate and mug aside. “How would you know what I need? For what school?”

  “First, you named schooling as the major expense that needed funding on your profile. Did you not?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “The rest is what investigators are for.” If Beau was surprised by the revelation that I had her looked into, she didn’t say a word. Instead, the sole indicator of her disapproval was the deepening of her pout and a slight frown. “Now that that’s cleared up, let’s get back to your schooling fees. It’s been taken care of in a way that benefits us both. Privacy kept. You’ll need to be moved in no later—”

  “I’m sorry, Hendrix,” Beau interrupted, holding a hand up, “but last night wasn’t anything other than sex. It wasn’t an agreement on my behalf to anything.”

  “But that’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart. Open and look toward the bottom.”

  “What did you do.” I’d give her credit for keeping her temper controlled. She was positively seething. Glorious in her ire.

  “Just made your verbal agreement a written one.” Her mouth opened and closed several times, face turning red. “Or don’t you remember?”

  “How?”

  “I was balls deep inside you, loving the way your walls fluttered around me, when I asked that you agree.” She thought I couldn’t tell that she’d pressed her thighs together, but I was in tune with her every move. “You were right there...beautifully on the edge, when I bit down on your chest and you came all over my cock and sheets. That was my answer, Beau. You’re juices on my dick the proof that you wanted this.”

  “But I didn’t sign these papers.” Wasn’t missed that she didn’t deny my claims.

  “And I did.” No sense in beating around the bush. “The I.D. inside your wristlet was a great help. Though I might suggest you change your signature to something a bit more difficult, because two circles with a line straight across the middle was just too easy to falsify.”

  “I can’t...Jesus Christ,” she sighed while rubbing her temples. “I’m not doing this with you. No offense, but we won’t work.”

  A part of me felt bad for manipulating the situation, but it was too miniscule to fight against the memory of her wrapped around my length. My cock, which twitched behind the zipper of my pants, agreed with the memory.