His Sugar Baby(73)
“Yes, I’m yours,” she whispered. She lifted a hand to his jaw and the gold bangle bracelet glinted around her wrist. “Just for now.”
With a groan, he wrapped her in a tight embrace and covered her mouth with his. He lifted his head, his breath harsh. He stared down at the pale oval of her face in the light. He felt the movement of her hands, heard the rustle of fabric. The belt dropped to the floor. A zipper burred. Michael slid his hands down under the waistband of her skirt, pushing it to drop off her hips, sending it puddling around her feet. He grazed his fingers over her sex. He caught his breath. She wasn’t wearing anything but a scrap of lace. He could feel her damp heat. His desire lit like a conflagration. Quickly he stripped away the lace, pulling it down over her hips and legs.
He gathered her up and laid her on the bed. He unzipped the ankle boots and carefully removed them, cradling her slender feet. She angled up on her elbows. Her eyes were flared wide with arousal. Her creamy breasts and belly and legs were fully exposed. She watched while he yanked off his clothes.
Michael lay down beside her. He pulled her arms above her head so that she fell flat against the mattress. He leaned down to kiss her openmouthed and then gently bit one of her breasts. She cried out and arched beneath him. He growled in satisfaction. Letting go of her wrists, he fisted himself. He was already rigid. He was afraid he would come too soon. He didn’t think he could last. Her palms brushed feather-light against his cheekbones then trailed down to his shoulders, settling there.
“I’ve missed you, Michael.” Her words were throaty, breathless.
Michael pushed her willing thighs apart and wedged himself in the soft V between them. He pushed his cock steadily into her tight heat and began to thrust slowly and deeply. He slightly raised himself so that he could slip a hand between their bodies and strum her clitoris, striving to drive her desire to greater heights. She trembled under him. Her hands caressed his body, and he closed his eyes with acute pleasure.
She had come to him, deliberately setting herself to seduce him. Yet she became the one seduced. His hands, his mouth, his gentle possession of her made her feel alive. The exhaustion, the anxiety, the uncertainty, all of it dropped away. Heat coiled in her belly, spread through her limbs and her body. She wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him in closer. She wrapped her fingers in his hair and dragged him down for a drugging kiss. He groaned into her mouth as their mouths melded and their tongues dueled. His weight settled heavier onto her then suddenly he rolled, taking her with him so that she ended on top.
She laughed breathlessly, her flattened hands on the pillows, looking down into his face. His eyes glittered hotly. “Dance for me, baby,” he gritted. His hands flexed on her buttocks. She drew her knees up beside his hips and pushed her torso from off of his chest. She felt his thick length slide deeper and whimpered with pleasure. Clasping her elbows above her head, she shifted her pelvis in a sensuous, rocking rhythm. She ground her clit against his pelvis and felt the friction of his thick cock shafting her. Her blood was soon blazing. His knowing hands roamed her slick, undulating body, stroking her. He reached up to knead her aching breasts and pluck her nipples. She threw back her head on a long moan. She dropped forward, pressing into him, so that she could catch him in a hot, openmouthed kiss. He swept his strong arms around her and rolled her over to her back. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her, and she was just as eager for him
It was a desperate, thorough coupling, yet deeply passionate on a subliminal level that they had never reached before.
His weight lifted. She felt the coolness of the air on her heated body and incoherently sobbed a protest. His hands wrapped her waist and flipped her onto her belly. Anticipation flashed over her. “Yes!”
His wide hands lifted her hips. His heavy cock nudged at her ass, slid underneath, and pushed home again, filling her. His fingers bit into her hips. He drove into her sheath again, at a deeper angle, hitting the exquisite pleasure point. He grunted above her, his breath heaving sharply with every stroke. The pleasure radiated, blossoming in her core. “Michael!” Her fingers writhed in the bedclothes. A molten, mind-hazing wave washed over her. Bright, jagged lights burnt behind her eyeballs, and she was spun into space.
Michael shuddered through his own orgasm before he collapsed over her. He lifted himself and sprawled down beside her. He threw his arm heavily over her lower back. His swift, harsh breath rasped loud in her ears. She lay tangled in the bedclothes, under the reassuring weight of his arm, and her eyes drifted shut.
They slept the night through. At some point, she became nestled against his side. His arms wrapped around her, and her head rested on his chest.
It was late in the morning when she wakened. The whisps of a lovely dream still misted through her sleepy brain. She opened her eyes and met his gaze. There was a softened expression in his pale eyes that lit happiness deep inside her. It would be easy to tell him, she thought muzzily. One of his hands caressed the line of her shoulder and arm. The warmth of his body cradled her. She felt utterly boneless, cherished, and safe. He was going to make a wonderful father. Still half asleep, she smiled up at him. “I love you.”
She felt his whole body stiffen. She watched the shutters snap shut over his expression, turning the warmth in his eyes cold. It was like having a bucket of frigid water splashed in her face. She was instantly and fully awake. Iciness settled around the vicinity of her heart. She had made the unpardonable mistake. She had misread him and exposed her vulnerability. Her heart thudded heavily with her disappointment and despair. It had all changed for her, but obviously it had not for him. She sat up, pulling the sheet up to her breasts. “You don’t have to say it. No emotional attachments, right?”