Page 5 of Sugar Baby Mine

“Three points.” He wiggles his eyebrows up and down.

I kind of want to punch him.

He shucks his pants and boxers both in one go, kicking them down his legs and yanking his shirt over his head. Leaning back in, his hands spread my legs wider, wedging himself in and pressing down against me immediately. His cock is hot and heavy, slipping against the lips of my pussy.

My hands fly to his chest to hold him off for a moment as panic floods my chest, my heart beating in a staccato rhythm. “Condom,” I demand.

Confusion passes over his face as he leans back.

Lifting up onto my elbows, I shake my head. “I don’t do sex without a condom.”

“Progressive,” Sam grumbles under his breath, leaning over me to reach into his nightstand drawer. He pulls back with a foil packet, ripping it open and rolling it on.

There is no way I’m letting dudes on Tinder put their dick inside me without a condom.

He raises his eyebrows at me mockingly. “Happy now,princess?”

My nose scrunches up. “Don’t—” I shake my head, swallowing down what I want to say. I can tell the kind of guy he is now—someone who doesn’t really like the wordno, or any variation of it. “Yeah, thanks.” Tilting my head up to the ceiling, I breathe out a sigh as I place my hands on his shoulders, suddenly wanting to get this over with.

My words seem to soothe him enough. His arms scoop under my thighs to angle my hips as he slots himself up against me.

“Gonna fuck you so hard, Emily. You’ll be screaming my name.”

I don’t even have the will to correct him. It simply isn’t worth it.

“Oh, I’m sure.”

Five minutes later, he’s sweating above me, panting as his breath huffs across my neck. His hips begin to stutter in their rhythm and I grind up against him, desperate for some friction on my clit. Unwinding my arms from his shoulders, I slide a hand down between our bodies to help ease the way.

“Woah, woah, woah—what are you doing?” Sam pants, hovering as he stills his hips. There’s an incredulous look on his face, and the air feels stifling under the change in his tone.

Blinking up at him, I try to read the expression on his face without squinting. “Getting off?”

He looks affronted as he recoils. “Am I not good enough for you?”

“Would you rather do it for me?”

He snorts, eyes rolling dramatically. “No. I mean, why do you need to do thatat all?”

Wanting to laugh but holding it in, I can’t help the dumbfounded look that filters across my face. “Do most of your partners come by penetration alone, Sam?”

“Yeah, always.”

I smile at him, so saccharine my teeth ache all over again. “Ah,well, that’s the problem. I’m clearly not normal and can’t go the hands-free route. I need some actual clit stimulation.”

A large part of me feels bad for his other partners and the many fake orgasms that he must have encountered, only proving to inflate his ego. Unfortunately for us both, I don’t have the time or will to teach him something that would benefit the next girl. A caveman to a changed man takes more than one session, and I don’t plan on ever seeing him again.

He seems to bristle before thrusting forward particularly hard, as if to drive home his supposed skills. “Well, that sucks for you, I guess.”

Lifting my hips, I hum, fingers pressing in and circling my clit. It alleviates that desperate ache, and my eyes flutter closed with my head tipping back into the mattress. “It definitely, definitely sucks, ah—” My breath catches, my orgasm finally beginning to thrum to life in my blood.

For someone who normally cares a whole lot of what other people think about them, I decidedly don’t care at all what he thinks of me as I touch myself beneath him.

The whole thing only lasts another couple of minutes with me finishing just after him. Nothing grand or exciting.

After he rolls off me onto his back, he pulls the condom off like it’s a worm he doesn’t want to touch. Once he’s rid of it, he throws an arm over his eyes and sinks into the bed, breathing deep.

I lay there for a moment before he starts to snore. Bringing my hands up to rub down my face, I cover my mouth, lest I let out the laugh that’s been building for the last half hour. Instead I sigh and glance over at him, watching the rise and fall of his chest.

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