Page 78 of Sugar Baby Mine

He’s awfully restrained when he takes them, stretching the lace and holding them low.

I shuffle back only to lift a leg and step into them one foot at a time. He drags them up my legs until he has them over my hips, his palms smoothing the fabric down over my ass before grabbing a handful in each hand, yanking me forward until his face is nearly buried between my breasts.

“Fuck. You’re making this difficult.”

“Sorry, am I making ithardfor you?”

Squeezing me closer, his head tips up and his eyes are dark and full of want. The edges of his cheeks are getting flushed with color beneath the tight press of his collar.

“Are you going to be able to make it through the night without picturing me like this? Wearing only the panties you bought for me, with me between your legs?”

“No,” he chokes out, sending a thrill skittering down my spine. “But I didn’t buy those panties for you to wear. Only for you to make them dirty.”

I blink. “What?”

The look on his face turns sharp, eyes hooded as he licks his lip and his tongue, barely brushing my pointed nipple.

My spine snaps straight just as he takes his tie in hand and yanks it loose, unthreading the fabric from the collar.

“Turn around,” he commands. The way his voice wraps around me is sinful delight.

My heart and stomach do a matching summersault. “What are we doing? I thought we didn’t have time for this.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, baby. I told you five-thirty to make you think we needed to be there by six, but the event doesn’t start until seven”—this cocksucking motherfucker—“and most guests don’t even show up until at least seven-thirty.”

Ben gathers my wrists together right as I give him my back andit isn’t until he starts to wind the fabric of his tie around them that I start to breathe heavily.

“Some would call that manipulation.”

He yanks hard on the tie’s ends and a whine loosens from my throat. “Some would also say you have time blindness, and I’m simply helping so that we’re not late to an event where all eyes are on you when we walk in.” He relaxes the fabric first before knotting it off.

As much as that makes me want to complain, I don’t have any defense. Because everyone’s attention on me is the last thing I want. Especially at an event like this.

“You’re still an asshole.”

“Call me whatever you like, but you’ll still say please when I tell you to.” His touch flutters over my lower back and up the center of my spine to tug on one of the tight curls in my ponytail. I’m so sure he’s going to bend me over, but his words surprise me. “Get on your knees.”

“Yes, sir,” I say, but it’s with a little more bite than sugar.

“There’s my good girl.” His voice rumbles, and I squirm as I struggle to lower to my knees. He guides me down with a gentle hand. “I knew you were still in there.”

“Where did you learn to tie knots like this?” I test the limits of the tie, and it’s tight but not constricting.

“Sailing. A sort of pretentious hobby to a boy raised in the country whose favorite pastime used to be mudding. But certain aspects come in handy for things like this.”

He circles to my front, looking down over the way my chest pushes out. I pull in a ragged breath as his hands drop to unbuckle his belt.

Resting back on my heels, I watch as he pulls down his zipper with a slow glide and my mouth is already watering. I know he’s about to have me choke on his cock and nothing else in this world matters. Doesn’t even remotely come close.

His hand slips beneath his boxers, and I lick my lips. But he pauses, stroking his cock beneath the fabric only once. “Stay right here, just like that for me, baby.”

I nod, even as my blood pounds in my ears when he disappears into the hallway, but he’s back in only a few seconds.

Ben wiggles the tube of dark plum lipstick I set on the bathroom counter in preparation for tonight. “I want those lips stained this color when you suck me down. I want it on my skin for the rest of the night.”

He crouches in front of me, and I can’t help but take in a deep inhale when his cologne swirls around my brain like ambrosia. His lip tips up in the corner, eyes deep and assessing as they sweep my face before narrowing on my mouth.

“And what’s the color that makes everything stop?”

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