Page 31 of Sugar Baby Mine

“I do,” he answers with a shrug, coming to stand behind me. “When I find the time or something that I’m particularly interested in.”

His arm settles over mine, fingers drifting along the titles of the books as I try to note where they linger.

“Your tastes are pretty varied. Never would have taken you for a Jane Austen fan, either.”

“They’re classics,” he says, leaning into the back of my head. I swear he takes a long inhale of my hair. “Though I prefer a thriller, something that gets the heart racing. What’s your favorite flavor?”

“Romance,” I say without preamble. His hand circles my wrist as I lazily trail over his copy ofA Time to Kill. He raises it up over my shoulder, pressing a kiss to the thin skin where my pulse jumps beneath his lips. I close my eyes and take in a breath that does nothing to calm the heat rising back to my skin. “Mostly spicy romance. Dark romance. Sports romance. Anything with romance, really. But spice is a must.”

“Mmm…and do you ever read these spicy romances with one hand between your legs?”

“Sometimes.”

His lips brush my throat, and my pulse thunders traitorously. “You’ll have to give me some recommendations. I’d like to experience your favorites.”

Thethoughtof him reading any of the books that have consumed my entire soul does something inexplicable to me. Something deep and dark and twisted grips my heart, squeezing like a vice.

Twisting out of his hold, I push at Ben’s chest until he backs up a step, giving a breadth of air between us so I can breathe without losing my mind. His hair is mussed from running his fingers through, pupils dilated and pushing the dark brown to the edges, and his pullover is already wrinkled from my harshgrip. My gaze continues as I nudge his slippered foot with my heel, jealous.

“Okay—let’s slow down for a second. Stop the tour right here, and let’s go ahead and eat. Because if you show me your bedroom next, then I’m not coming back out.”

He grabs my hand where it’s still perched on his chest, circling my wrist like a handcuff. I think this man has an obsession with touching me. But that’s okay, because I quite like touching him, too.

“The short version, then. I have a guest room and an office. Bathroom’s in the hall. An ensuite in the primary bedroom.”

“Wonderful—great, you could fit, like, three of my apartments in the same space, honestly. I’ve never even been invited inside a New York apartment so nice. Usually the guys I go out with are studio level, at best.Orthey have four other roommates in a three-bedroom space, and that’s pretty awkward to bring a girl back to have sex—”

My back hits the bookcase, the breath whooshing out of my lungs as he slides his hand up to wrap around my throat—the best kind of necklace. Rational thought empties like water from a broken dam. I feel my pupils dilate as the world narrows to a singular focus:Ben. My eyes flutter with the pressure on the sides of my neck as I crave his lips on mine with a dizzying intensity.

Want blooms so violently in my chest that I feel like bursting out of my skin.

He closes the distance between us, catches my bottom lip between his own and tugs it free before swiping his tongue over the bitten, swollen curve. Then our lips are pressed together, and the panic in my mind suddenly feels like a controlled chaos, soothing and quiet and hyper focused.

Ben steps further into me, fingers flexing at my throat. My lips part for him as he licks the seam, tongue working over the slip ofmy teeth. I meet him stroke for stroke, my hands sliding beneath the fabric of his pullover and undershirt, touching the chiseled abdominals I find as I rake my nails down his stomach.

He gives me a hum as his thigh slides between mine, applying pressure to my cunt and making my body grow warmer in response.

In fact, my whole body tightens. Something inside me shifts with the rising need formore. I grip at the waist of his pants, fingers digging in at his belt. I rise on my tiptoes, chasing his tongue as it backs out of my mouth. His leg shifts up, pressing more firmly against my cunt as he pushes me back until the sharp edges of the bookcase dent my skin, pulling a gasp from my throat. He swallows it greedily, lips bruising as he consumes and commands and takes.

And I give.

He separates us with a slow pull of my lip between his teeth, letting it bounce back into place as we pant into the air around us.

He breathes heavily, nostrils flaring as he takes in the swollen curve of my mouth. My fingers twitch to wipe the lipstick off his.

“Don’t”—Ben lets out a sound I can only describe as a growl— “talk aboutfucking other guyswhen you’re inmyapartment—when I know you’re fucking wet forme.”

Oh yeah, there’s no question about that—but I say it anyway. “Oh, really? Maybe you should check.”

“Fucking brat,” Ben groans, vaulting forward to crush his mouth against mine again in a tangle of lips and teeth and tongue. I’m drowning in him so deeply, I don’t want to surface, not for a breath, not for another sassy quip on the tip of my tongue.

He lets go of my throat and my chest heaves, and even though my eyes are closed, the room still tilts on its axis. I’m lucky he’s holding me upright as I cling to him. Though it’s not a reprieveas his hand shoves my dress up and his thigh slides away from between my legs. His fingers brush the gusset of my panties, utterly soaked, and he makes a low noise of approval in his throat as he strokes up and down the seam of my pussy.

“That’s my girl,” he says into my neck, teeth scraping down the column of my throat, tongue against the dip of my collarbone.

I thrash my head back into the bookcase and wonder if it’s possible to give myself a concussion like this. I roll my hips, chasing his touch. It’s like I don’t even remember what I said five minutes ago about slowing down.

He yanks on my panties, pulling them to the side as his fingers slide through my drenched folds and I struggle to remain somewhat still. I just want to climb him like a fucking tree and sink myself on his cock. I’m not used to this kind of torture, because that’s what it is:torture. As impatient as I am, I bite my lip and chew my cheek as Ben slicks his fingers through my pussy with deliberate slowness, dragging up over my clit in a slow sweep that has me nearly panting before moving back down to tease my entrance.

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