Page 22 of Sugar Baby Mine

“Oh, huh. Well, that movie came out before I was born, you know.”

Ben heaves a sigh. I would laugh if I didn’t feel the tiniest bit bad, but getting under his skin is sofun. I didn’t expect to have such a good time just talking with him—I’m eager to spend more time with him, to explore the other avenues of our relationship. The back and forth is thrilling in a way I didn’t expect and I wantmore.

“You’re gonna remind me every chance you get about how old I am, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I’m just going to warn you now that you shouldn’t expect anything less. Though you’re notthatold. Considering your salacious hobbies, I bet you still keep up well enough.”

I chance a glance at him, his eyes unreadable in the darkness of the car.

“Are you trying to test that theory?” he asks, something in his tone echoing a challenge. Little does he know I’m very competitive.

Though my foot presses the brake harder than necessary when his hand rests on my knee. His palm is warm as it slides over my skin, curving to the inside of my leg and sliding higher. My back straightens up, fingers gripping the steering wheel harder as I make a right turn.

“What if I am?”

Ben hums and the sound flows through the car, like the low rumble of the engine through my fingers. It shoots straight to my belly as his hand slides higher under my dress. By reflex, I want to press my thighs together but his hand is there, pulling gently on my thigh. My knees spread the smallest amount.

“I’d say you better drive faster.”

Oh fuck.

“Just—” I suck in a breath as his pinky grazes the crease of my thigh and pelvis. “Wait a minute.”

It’s only another couple blocks.

“And why should I do that?” he asks. His wrist turns in what feels like slow motion, lying flat against my pubic bone with his fingers resting over my pussy. Just resting there. A show of dominance and some self-control, if I’ve ever felt it. His fingers don’t even twitch.

But me? I’m aching to shift into his hand, all the while unsure if I should squirm away because I’m surely going to make a mess of the leather seat at this rate.

My cheeks feel warm and I clear my throat, knuckles white against the steering wheel. “We’re almost there.”

“Am I distracting you? Worried you’re gonnaslipup?” Ben asks, his middle finger sliding through the slick arousal drenching my cunt and tapping against my clit.

I nearly jerk the wheel.

“Yes,” I grit out before holding my breath.

His touch is electric. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Goosebumps erupt along my arms and legs yet my skin warms all over. The pad of his finger circles my clit in a slow sweep that makes me feel like I’m dying a slow, tortuous death.

Fuck it. There’s a spot not too terribly far from my apartment complex right on the corner of the block; I don’t even have to parallel park—which would be an utter disaster right now anyway. I pull in a little sharply and throw the car in park,scrambling to unbuckle my seat belt.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” Ben asks, hand pressing in against my cunt. I almost falter and lean into his touch.

Almost.

But I yank on his wrist as I twist in the seat, climbing across the center console toward him like a goblin looking for treasure. I toss his jacket from my shoulders into the backseat and slide into his lap to straddle him, only banging my knee on the cup holder once.

My hands settle around his shoulders, and my knees scoot in toward his hips. I rest my weight on his lap, delighted to find his cock hard underneath me. I grind down on him, only the layers of his pants and underwear separating us, and it hits so fucking good. I grin at him, leaning in to skate my lips along his ear as I roll my hips.

“Taking what I want.”

I roll my hips again and his hands come up to grab them, fingers digging in at my rucked up dress and pulling me harder against him. The pressure of his fingers is maddening, I want to feel him imprinted everywhere on my skin. Pleasure skitters up my spine, and my back arches me into his chest. My clit throbs, pulsing in time with the erratic beat of my heart as I gasp out a moan.

“Use me then,” Ben says low, rough, almost pained. He rocks me forward against the hard line of his cock in his pants, his own hips meeting me with each thrust.

I feel drunk on his touch, on the feel of him beneath me. His hands fist my dress, my skin, as he pulls me in. My core clenches tight, and I imagine wearing the bruise of his touch like a trophy in the morning. His lips graze my neck and throat, just barely touching, beard scratching along my skin as I pant and wither in his lap.

It’s not enough and yet too much at the same time. He’s barelytouched me, and I feel like I’m going to lose my mind. I’m so close already. A shudder racks my spine, toes curling as he pulls my earlobe between his teeth and his breath blows over my neck. I melt into him as fire blazes through my veins, gripping his shoulders like he’s the only thing tethering me to this world.

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