Hot Sugar - Page 47

Wow, the compliments are coming quick, and it makes me nervous. He always does this. Pulls my chain, jerking it tight, and then letting go suddenly. Stay calm! The voice in my head screams. Stay calm, don’t lose your wits!

And that’s true. I have a job to do. So putting my wine glass down, I slide my arms around that strong neck, turning on the charm. I press against him, making sure he can feel those big boobies against the hard wall of chest.

“Mr. Channing,” I purr in what I hope is a seductive whisper. “Are you ready to play now? Because you know … I’ve been waiting all night.”

I expect him to go crazy. I expect the dark man to ravage me, his hands all over my tits, mouth on my nipples. And I want it, way in the back of my head. But instead, a smile spreads across those perfectly sculpted lips, one big hand setting the wine glass down.

“Good,” comes that deep rumble. “Good girl. Take off your dress. Everything off except the heels, garters and stockings.”

My body goes hot. Oh god, oh god. But this is what I expected, right? And again, it’s a job.

So taking a deep breath, I get up. My hands fumble a bit with the zipper, the velvet material slowly falling away to reveal my creaminess. I wore no panties underneath, just like a real kept woman.

“Good,” the billionaire growls from his seat, not moving an inch. “Nothing but skin.” But a muscle flits in one cheek, betraying his arousal. “Now turn around,” he commands. “Spread your legs as wide as they can go, and bend over so your hands touch the floor.”

My cheeks flame. What? That’s so obscene! He’s going to see everything. Is this part of my purchase price?

But Mr. Channing nods, blue eyes hard.

“You heard me,” comes that deep voice. “Now do it.”

And wobbling a bit in the high heels, I turn, angling my feet outwards.

“Wider,” comes that harsh growl. “Wider, you can go wider.”

A frisson of excitement shoots down my spine, pussy gushing hotly. Oh god. I shouldn’t want it like this. Mr. Channing doesn’t love me, I’m just his fucktoy. But of their own accord, my feet slide wider and wider still, until they’re so far apart that a burn begins in my inner thighs. Ohhh god. Thank goodness for those yoga classes because this is where it gets interesting.

And then Mason’s voice comes again.

“Now bend over,” his words rumble smoothly, caressing the bare skin of my buttocks. “Bend over until your hands touch the floor.”

This is like some type of dirty calisthenics class. But like a doll, I do as ordered, slowly lowering my torso until my fingertips brush the ground, breasts squeezed against my knees.

“Further,” is his harsh command. “Press down.”

I know what he wants, and inhaling once more, my body complies. Slowly, I bend forwards, stretching unbearably until my hands are flat on the ground, legs spread obscenely apart. Oh god, what must it look like to him? The burn is unbelievable, in the small of my back, my inner thighs, even my calves beginning to scream.

But Mr. Channing is pleased. A rustle sounds and before I realize it, warm breath skates across my clit, making me shiver uncontrollably.

“Holy fuck, sweetheart,” he rasps, the sentence whispered against my folds. “If you could only see what I see. Your pussy spread open, the lips pulling apart on their own. These huge thighs,” he growls, running his hands up and down the white meatiness. “And shit your clit. It’s so big and you’re dripping baby. I have to taste,” is his tortured rasp before he buries his mouth in my cunt.

And I scream then, literally scream. Because oh god, I’m spread for a man, my body his to use, every muscle aching and fiery. It shouldn’t be like this. This experience shouldn’t rattle me to the bones, my body can’t be creaming hotly at the mere touch of his mouth.

But something within breaks free, and I give up then. This is my swan song, my farewell gesture. I want this last time with Mason Channing. I want that huge dick in my body, his mouth all over. So I cry out.

“Yes, Mr. Channing, yes!”

The alpha grunts in back of me.

“Perfect, sweet thing,” comes that rasp again. “You’re perfect.”

I almost sob then.

Because does he know what he’s saying?

Does he know how much it hurts, even as it feels so good?

If he wants me to hold this position for hours, even days, I’ll do it. I’ll show him my cunt, I’ll give him everything in my power. I’ve already given him my heart.

But the man’s a monster. Because slowly, tantalizingly, the alpha pulls my pussy lips apart so that my insides show, the ruby red glistening and pulsing before him.

Tags: Cassandra Dee Billionaire Romance
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