Sugar

by Lydia Michaels

  His eyes found mine as I slowly came down. “Wow.”

  “Should I lick it up?”

  Oh, my God… “Yes…”

  He spread my folds and slowly dragged his tongue up my slit, licking and cleaning me like a cat, his eyes on me the entire time. I moaned and caught my breath, savoring his delicate attention.

  “And here?” His mouth lowered, his breath teasing my soft skin as his tongue slid in a slow circle. Lower.

  “Mmm, yes…”

  He spent days down there, asking and then doing everything I said he could do. Eventually, he moved to my legs, kissing the backs of my knees, massaging up my calves and thighs and coming back to kiss my clit with the softest little caresses. I wasn’t sure what his motivation was, but I was never one to object to being worshipped.

  His hands fondled my breasts as he worked his way around my body. There was no groping or grabbing. Just delicate caresses that had my mind lulling in the sweetest place. He kissed my lips, and I peeked through my lashes and smiled. Damn, he was good.

  Lowering off the couch, he slid to the floor, to his knees. I wanted to pull him back to me, but maybe he was tired of being the giver. He folded his hands behind his back and lowered his weight onto his heels. Then he looked at me as if waiting for instructions.

  Oh, my fucking God, he was kneeling for me. My heart tripped, and I eased up on one elbow.

  “Noah?”

  “Should I do more or would you like something else?”

  I blinked, noting the sizable bulge in his pants. Dear lord, this must be killing him! “Come here. Take off your pants.”

  He rose and stripped, then stood next to the couch. “Where do you want my hands?”

  This wasn’t how I expected this to go, but I wasn’t about to complain. “Sit down. Lift your hands behind your head and hold them there.”

  He complied without a single objection. I slid between his legs, resting my knees on the floor. Watching him carefully, I slowly stroked. His nostrils flared, and his chest lifted on a deep inhalation, but he didn’t reach for me.

  I took my time blowing him, my hands sliding over his smooth flesh as my mouth played and explored.

  He was incredibly still, watching my every move. Always watching me.

  When I took him deep and looked up at him, the black of his pupils swallowed the blue of his irises. But his hands remained obediently clamped behind his head.

  His breathing labored as I toyed with his balls and dragged my tongue slowly up his shaft. Sucking a finger deep into my mouth, I watched him as I brought it down to his taint.

  “Spread your legs, Noah. And scoot forward.”

  His jaw ticked, but he did as I said, his body easing to the edge of the couch and his knees gradually widening. His hesitation was notable, which made his compliance all the more rewarding. I teased his puckered flesh, and his lips parted as he drew in a breath.

  “Do you want my finger inside of you?”

  I saw the emotional debate in his eyes, unsure if this might be the moment he stole back the control or gave a breathtaking show of submission. There was nothing I wanted more than his surrender in that moment.

  “Yes. Please.”

  His words tickled through me like shards of a tiny orgasm. I pressed, and his jaw locked, his Adam’s apple shifting as he swallowed.

  A vulnerable sound escaped his throat as I penetrated. Smiling up at him, so he felt my praise, I took his cock into my mouth and sucked him for several minutes, my finger leisurely exploring.

  He was panting and sweating, his cock twitching and his ass clenching. The dark color of his swollen erection told me he could come at any second. “Do you need to come, Noah?”

  “Yes…”

  “Do you think I should let you come?”

  He blinked rapidly, a flash of panic showing in his eyes. “Please … Avery.”

  I withdrew my finger, and he hissed. “Where are your condoms?”

  “There’s one in my pants.”

  “Such a boy scout.”

  I found the condom and rolled it onto his straining cock. Moving with excruciating slowness, I stood over his knees, not lowering close enough to touch him.

  His eyes shifted, his gaze traveling over every inch of my body as I watched him, my feet apart, hands on my hips, holding everything he wanted within arm’s reach but outside of his control. “What do you say?”

  “Please.”

  I smiled. “I love when you beg.” I bent forward, angling my ass out behind me, dangling my tits over his thighs and rubbing up against his body like a cat. It seemed more than he could take, so I stroked him.

  “Don’t come.”

  His thighs bunched with muscles and his arms flexed behind his head. “Please, Avery…” He was breathing fast, jaw twitching. “Shit…”

  I squeezed the base of his cock, and he grunted. “Not yet. Not until you’re inside of me.”

  His head tipped back, and he groaned. “Fuck.” A bead of sweat worked its way down his chest, and I caught it with my tongue, slowly licking my way to his mouth.

  “You’re being very good, Noah.” I kissed him slowly, the tremble of his jaw evident under the soft pressure of my lips. “I think you’ve earned an orgasm.”

  His eyes closed and my body lowered until his cock touched my pussy, but didn’t penetrate.

  “Look at me.”

  His eyes, wearing lines of tension, full of desire, found mine, and I sank onto him. He let out a held breath with enough force to blow hot air across my nipples.

  “Do you like being inside of me?” I asked, pinching the tips of my breasts while riding him.

  “Fuck, Avery.” He gritted his teeth. “I’m not going to last.”

  Of course, he wasn’t. “Do you know why that is, Noah?”

  “Because your pussy feels incredible.”

  “True, but that’s not why.” I reached behind me and cupped his balls, closing my grip and giving a sharp tug before sliding back down and impaling myself on his hard cock. “It’s because you like being dominated. Now, come.”

  I saw his attempt to fight ejaculating at the precise moment I gave the command, those accusing words still ringing in the air, but he failed.

  His hips bucked as he let out a garbled string of nonsensical slurs. Every muscle in his body tightened as if he was receiving an electric shock.

  I took my pleasure, riding him hard even when he begged me to stop, hissed it was too much. He arched and growled, but never moved his hands. He took it. Every last bit of my commanded authority over him. He took it with striking submission.

  29

  Noah

  The faucet shut off, and I heard her bare feet approach the couch where I lay comatose, my veins still trembling from my last release. When Avery made me come, she did so with the calculated force of a Scud missile. I moaned, arms limp at my sides, head back, eyes shut.

  “Are you alive?”

  “Mmm…” Words took too much effort.

  She giggled and peeled the condom off my flaccid cock, causing me to suck in a sharp breath, but I didn’t open my eyes. Only when I heard her dressing did I peek through my lashes.

  Her shirt said Hugs Not Drugs and her pants were covered in a fuzzy ladybug print. But the cow slippers were my favorite.

  “It’s late. I should go.”

  I forced my eyes fully open, taking a mental picture of her full appearance. “I can’t believe you’re the woman who just put me through hell.”

  “I’m sorry, did you not enjoy yourself?”

  So sassy. “Don’t gloat.”

  “A polite submissive says thank you when he’s permitted to come.”

  “Don’t ever call me that.”

  My clothes were scattered, and I didn’t give a fuck. Stuck to my couch in all my naked glory, I simply stared at her. “Don’t go.”

  She sighed. Sliding onto my lap, she cradled my face and kissed me slowly. It wasn’t bad letting her take the lead. She definitely knew a th
ing or two about pleasure. Her full lips pulled back slowly, and she stared into my eyes.

  “Now, Momma’s gotta get her biscuits. You sleep while I’m across the hall calling your name until I come and I pass out.”

  As she pushed off my lap, my hand snaked around her waist, halting her sly escape. “Why go across the hall for that?”

  “Uh, uh, uh…” She waved a finger. “It’s still my night. My rules. I decide when you get to touch me.”

  “I’m too tired, anyway.” My grip fell away. I had a feeling she didn’t realize what she gave up tonight. “Tomorrow night’s our date.”

  “I know.”

  “I want you to sleep over.”

  She stood. “We’ll see.”

  “Avery.” I leveled her with a glare that said it wasn’t up for negotiation. “You took tonight, so that means tomorrow your ass is mine—literally, if I want it that way.”

  Her lips pursed. “Fine. But I’m leaving early in the morning. You don’t get to hijack my day.”

  “As long as I have you all night, you can do whatever you want with your morning. But expect to be tired.”

  “I’m opening the door. Do you want to cover up?”

  “Why bother? The neighbor already sampled the goods.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I like you much better when you're sweet, but you seem to do annoying arrogance so effortlessly. Bye.”

  She breezed into the hall, leaving the door to my apartment wide open. “Avery,” I yelled after her. “You forgot to shut the door!”

  “Sorry,” she sang but never came back.

  Shoving off the couch, I dragged my exhausted ass to the door and peeked into the hall. She was gone. I’d count down the hours until I’d get to spend time with her again. As much as I enjoyed this kinky quid pro quo thing we had going, I was equally, if not more excited to just take her out and have the chance to know her better.

  Shutting the door, I locked it and grabbed a towel from the closet before heading to the shower. Things weren’t perfect, but I was having fun. She was having fun. Despite the rough start, this seemed to take a turn in the right direction, and I couldn’t be more pleased.

  Avery was … sweet and complicated and so much more than I originally expected. Beneath the layers of sarcasm, there hid a gentle-hearted girl, who—if my instincts were right—had been overdue for some unconditional kindness. I honestly believed that if she realized she could be herself and still earn a guy’s attention, she’d stop pretending to be someone else for all those guys paying for her time.

  I didn’t want to pay for the perfect woman. I wanted the real Avery, someone I wasn’t sure Avery even knew all that well. But I sensed her goodness as much as I sensed her wild side. I loved the fact that no one else realized how much she kept hidden under the surface, but every day I chipped away at her barriers, and I didn’t plan to stop until I found the real her.

  30

  Avery

  I might have a boyfriend. Maybe.

  Noah was such a versatile guy. Sometimes he was growly and demanding, other times he was romantic and sweet. And then there were times, like last night, when he was everything I ever dreamed of wanting.

  It didn’t escape me on the way back to our building that he was going to shift the second we walked through the door. I could already feel the tension building as we stepped into the elevator. I wasn’t nervous, but I also wasn’t going to make this easy on him.

  The elevator doors parted, and I stepped into the hall. “Well, tonight was fun. I really liked that toffee dessert thing. Goodnight—”

  He caught my arm and pulled me back to him, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and tucking my body into his side. “Do you think I was born yesterday?”

  “I’m pretty sure you’re older than me.”

  “And I’m pretty sure we had a deal.” He held me close as he unlocked his door. “Go into the bedroom. I left a surprise for you.”

  “A strap-on?”

  “You wish.”

  I took off my coat and hung it over the back of a chair. He slowly unbuttoned his coat and watched as I walked toward the bedroom. My hand reached for the switch and… Oh, my God.

  Roses. Rose petals. Champagne on ice. Music kicked on, and I turned. He watched me from just outside the door. This was not what I was expecting.

  I licked my lips and glanced back at the beautiful display. His bedroom looked like a honeymoon suite at an upscale resort. A bottle of Cristal rested in the silver ice bucket.

  “I … don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t say anything.”

  I nodded because silence wasn’t really a choice. I was literally speechless.

  He could have done any number of perverted things to knock me off balance. I anticipated that, mentally prepared for it. But this… I had no pre-calculated response for this sort of … romance.

  He stepped closer and traced a finger down the side of my arm. His mouth lowered, and I met his lips before they needed to find mine. He backed me toward the bed.

  Lana Del Ray’s gritty voice echoed through the apartment, singing a familiar song. Love was possibly one of my favorites on her album, but he couldn’t know that. How was he doing this?

  As she sang about being young and getting all dressed up to go nowhere in particular—to get the blues—the lyrics hit me right in the moneymaker, ricocheted around in my cold heart, and took a nip out of some tender part I’d never felt before. My palm pressed into my chest as if that could somehow subside the ache.

  It was my song. My anthem. It was my life she sang about. It was the hollow void I felt in a crowded room, but somehow forgot when Noah was near. Damn him for taking a nip out of my heart when I preferred it safely packed in ice.

  My arms wrapped around his shoulder as he walked me backward toward the bed. His fingers caught the hem of my dress and lifted, leaving me in four-inch heels, my panties, and bra. His fingers laced with mine as he lowered me to the mattress. He unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside and covered me like a blanket.

  “Do you want champagne?”

  “I want you.” The words fell out without thought, so unguarded I nearly flinched at their accuracy.

  As he lifted my arms over my head and kissed down my front, I stretched beneath him, not protesting the pose. His fingers pulled at the hip of my panties but didn’t lower them.

  The soft churn of ice caught my ear, and I hissed as cool water trailed over my breasts and down my stomach. His mouth licked as thin rivulets formed tributaries at my ribs and I shivered.

  He dampened the front of my bra, the ice chip melting between the heat of his fingers, rolling over my skin. His teeth closed over the hard point, and I pressed against his mouth, silently begging for more.

  He reached into the ice bucket again, this time swirling a puddle at my belly button. Lower and lower he teased, over the silk of my panties until my chilled clit was swollen and begging for more.

  He sat up and unbuckled his belt, sliding it slowly through his belt loops and letting it coil on the bed beside my hip. The cork popped, and sweet-scented mist fizzed into the air. He took a sip from the bottle, and I gasped as he trickled some over my hips, soaking my panties and thighs.

  He knelt with his knees outside of my calves, his hands at each hip as his mouth sipped through the silk covering my pussy. I moaned and rocked into him.

  Pulling both sides lower, he slipped my panties off my hips, dragging them down to my knees. His hand twisted, pulling the wet silk tight and binding my thighs.

  More champagne spilled across my hips, gently fizzing and tickling as it touched my skin. He drank from the puddle at the V of my clamped thighs and pussy.

  His mouth lowered and he pulled back my folds, exposing my clit, his blue eyes watching mine as he teased me with only the tip of his tongue. My body throbbed, and I wiggled, but he twisted the panties tighter around my knees. His lips curled as a warm breath ghosted over my pulsing sex.

  He squeezed a finger betw
een my folds, not penetrating, but teasing. The upward glide had me moaning and, when he slid that tapered digit down again, I was begging. “Please…”

  “Patience.”

  He reached for the belt and wrapped it around my thighs, cinching it tight and locking it in place. My legs were sandwiched together so tight he’d never get his finger in there, let alone his dick. I frowned because it all seemed rather counterintuitive.

  With my legs locked in some sort of mermaid bondage, he slid my panties off and reached for my hands.

  Balling the fabric up, he folded the red silk into my palm, closing my fingers tightly around it. “Hold that. Don’t let go.”

  My fist tightened around the panties as he stood and removed the rest of his clothes. Here I was, holding my panties, tied up with a belt around my thighs, wound tight enough for my skin to plump around the leather, and my bra still on. Oh, and I was soaked and shivering from a champagne tongue bath. Definitely a first.

  His arms slid under my knees and my back as he adjusted me and then moved me again. He seemed to have a plan in his head and wanted to get it just right.

  “Should I keep my hands up here?”

  “Yes. I want to be able to see them.” He crawled over my body, pulling down the cups of my bra, so my tits were semi-held in place. He brushed the tip of his dick to my nipple, a smear of pre-come trailing behind.

  “I’m going to fuck your mouth, and you’re going to drop your panties if it’s too much. Understand? If I see the red of your panties, I stop.”

  My thighs, although locked together, pressed tighter. “I understand.”

  “Open your mouth.”

  I opened, and he didn’t hesitate, sliding to the back of my throat until my shoulders tensed.

  “Relax your throat. Don’t fight it.”

  I tried to relax, and he sank in again, his hand catching his weight on the bed. I moaned around his length.

  His hips cocked back and thrust deep, gagging me, but there wasn’t time to pause. He moved like a professional dancer, pressing into my mouth with rapid strokes and panting at the strenuous way he held his body over me.