His Sugar Baby

The heat was climbing, and she closed her eyes, reveling in it. Long before she was ready, he gave a protracted grunt and shoved hard. She could feel the spasms of his cock, the shuddering of his body, when he went rigid against her.

Winter opened her eyes as she felt him withdraw. Disappointment cut through her. Her body was vibrating, her nerves on edge. She straightened up, trying to regain her composure as she smoothed down her dress. His semen soaked through her thong and was wet on her inner thighs, and she realized then that he had not used a condom. She would have to clean up and change before they could leave.

She felt his hard hands slide under her dress, to grip her on either side of her waist. She scarcely had time to let out a little squeak before he had spun her around and lifted her up onto the granite counter. Her bare bottom felt the shock of the cold vanity top. Her breath hitched. Her dress was almost bunched up to her waist. Michael ripped the thong. Then his hands grasped her legs and pushed them wide apart. His strong fingers banded her thighs above the tops of her black thigh-high stockings. She stared at him, her heart hammering wildly. He smiled down at her, just for an instant, with the bad-ass smile. “Very naughty,” he murmured, his thumbs rubbing the tops of the stockings. Then he knelt, and his hot mouth fastened greedily on her flesh. Electricity sparked through her. She arched her back. “Oh, yes,” she hissed. She pushed her fingers tight into his thick hair. “Michael!”

He bit and sucked at her clit. His tongue flicked and pushed deep into her slit. Intolerable, molten heat began to burn inside her. Her thighs trembled. Under his ministrations, her hips involuntarily bucked, but he held her tight and never let up on his erotic assault.

She threw her head back, and her shoulders banged against the mirror behind her. Her shallow breathing shuddered through her lungs. A firestorm began to gain momentum. She instinctively tried to clench her legs together, but he held her splayed her apart. For several minutes he showed her no mercy while he tongued and sucked. Wave upon wave of delicious heat threatened to burn her alive. “Michael!” Her fingers writhed in his hair. She felt herself splintering, flying apart.

While she was still in the throes of the climax, he stood up and pulled her ankles up over his shirt-clad shoulders. His pulsing erection jutted out of his black pants. He lifted her buttocks in his palms, positioned himself, and penetrated her again.

Michael thrust hard and fast and long, panting with exertion. Avidly, he watched her face as he deliberately drove her up again, and this time, she screamed when she came. Spontaneously, he lost control. Michael grimaced. His eyes rolled back in his head. The pressure in his cock exploded, and he shook uncontrollably. It was exquisite, feeling her squeezing his shaft, feeling her shudder to completion in his locked arms. When she collapsed, limp and spent, he slumped with her, still cradling her silky-soft ass in his hands, still buried in her. His head rested beside hers against the mirror. His ragged breaths fogged the glass. Suddenly, he didn’t give a damn about going out. All he wanted was to be with her. “Come to bed and love me, Winter,” he whispered. “Please.”

She turned her head enough to brush her lips softly against his hot cheekbone. “I will,” she breathed.





They made love all night. Winter fell asleep safely wrapped in Michael’s arms. When they wakened in the morning and had showered and breakfasted, he said that he wanted to drive into town to do some shopping. He cocked a brow at her. “Come with me?”

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