Page 40 of Daddy's Princess

As I hit send on the message, I can imagine Sugar’s cheeks turning pink as she looks around the office to see if anyone knows who is texting. A minute later, the three little dots indicate that she’s responding.

I still can’t believe you left a hickey on my neck like we are teenagers!

That’s not the only place I left my mark,I reply.

And it’s true. The soft curve of Sugar’s breast is marked by my mouth, as is her inner thigh. By the time I finished nipping and sucking, marking her delicate skin so there could be no question that her body is owned, she was begging me to finish her. It was my pleasure to bury my tongue in her slick folds and lick her to a screaming orgasm. Over and over.

I nearly come in my pants when a picture message comes through. The top several buttons of Sugar’s dress are unbuttoned, revealing her creamy, lace-covered breasts. The lacy cups barely cover her pink nipples, and there on her left breast is my mark.

Fuck, babygirl. You’re killin’ me.

A few seconds later, another picture comes through, this one of her creamy thighs with another dark purplish bruise marking Sugar as mine. She must be in the restroom. I vaguely remember the floral bench she has her foot propped on as one the interior designer picked when we remodeled the offices shortly after I took over.

Just wanted to show you that just because you can’t see the marks doesn’t mean they aren’t there.The message is accompanied by a winking emoji.

I study the picture a little closer and can just make out the crease where her thigh and body meet. Then groan when I don’t see anything but pale skin. My little tease isn’t wearing panties.

Did you forget something when you got ready this morning?

Her response comes in the form of a picture. A picture of her bare pussy, glistening with her arousal. My cock is rock-hard behind my zipper. She probably thinks that she’s safe within the confines of that bathroom. If I were a lesser man, she wouldn’t be. No one would condemn me for losing control of my base needs. Not if they were to see exactly what Sugar is tempting me with.

Your wet, I accuse.

I can’t help it. Just seeing you gets me this way.

I groan and grip my cock, trying to relieve the ache. I decide to give her a taste of her own medicine and quickly take a picture of my hand clutching my length through my pants.You make me so fucking hard, baby. I want to feel that wet little pussy stretched by my fat cock.

Yes, daddy.

I can almost hear her pleading in that sweet, needy way of hers when I’m keeping her right on the brink of release. A quick look at the time tells me it’s barely eleven. Not lunchtime, but I can’t wait to get my hands on her.

Elevator, five minutes.It’s not a request. I can imagine her pupils dilating in lust as she gives herself over to my dominance. She submits to me so beautifully. I tell Janis that I’m going to lunch early as I stride past her desk. I don’t care what I have on my calendar, I could have a meeting with the Queen of England, and I wouldn’t give a shit. Not when my Sugar is wet and in need.

We arrive at the elevator at the same time. I mash the button down like it has somehow offended me. Sugar is flushed and slightly panting like she ran to meet me, except one look in her eyes tells me that her heavy breathing is because she’s trying to control her lust. When the doors slide open, we both rush into the small space to impatiently wait for the doors to close us inside. Just before the doors slide shut, an arm shoots through the opening. Timothy O’Brien, Titan-Rose’s best copyeditor, pauses before taking a step into the elevator.

His eyes flick between Sugar and me. I’m not sure what he sees on my face, but without a single word, he turns on his heel and strides in the direction of the stairwell. Finally, the doors slide closed, and I’m alone with Sugar.

I’m on her in an instant.

My mouth hungrily eats at hers until we are kissing each other with so much ferocity that our teeth clash. Sugar clings to my shoulders as if she’s afraid I’ll pull away. No chance of that. She moves her body against mine, trapping my hard cock between us. Every wiggle of her body is delicious torture.

I run my fingers into her hair, loosening the perfect twist until I can grip her chestnut locks in my fist. One tug and Sugar melts for me becoming pliant in my hands. “Naughty tease getting daddy’s cock hard when he should be working.”

She looks up at me lustfully. Her lips parted as her breaths come quicker and quicker as her arousal grows. I tighten my fist ever so slightly in her hair and soak up her sweet gasp of pain.

“Sorry, daddy,” she whimpers, then runs her hand down my chest until she’s cupping my hard length in her hand. “I—”

She’s interrupted when the bell dings and the elevator comes to a stop. A second later, the doors start to slide open, and a group of people board. Sugar jumps away from me like she was scalded. The people are wrapped up in their conversation and don’t even glance our way. Which is a good thing considering I couldn’t hide my hardon if I tried.

Sugar’s eyes dart from person to person as she tries to fix her mussed-up hair. The second the doors open, Sugar bolts from the elevator and doesn’t slow down until she’s outside on the sidewalk. And then she only slows down because the sidewalk is crowded. I grab her hand, halting her escape.

She looks at me like a cornered animal. I give her fingers a reassuring squeeze. “This way, sweetheart.” I tip my head toward where my car is idling at the curb.

She blinks as if waking from a trance. I’m half surprised that she lets me lead her to the car and even more surprised that she allows me to help her into it. I’m not sure what to expect, but it’s definitely not for Sugar to burst into tears and fling herself at me. I hold her close and run a soothing hand up and down her back as my driver gives me a dirty look in the rearview mirror.

I scowl at him. It’s not like I purposefully hurt her. I don’t know why she’s crying. Hell, I’m not even sure she understands why she’s crying at this moment. Especially since she’s repeating the word ‘sorry’ over and over as if she has something to apologize for.

Finally, she calms down enough to talk.

---