Page 11 of Sugar Daddies

“Princess,” his voice is clear, and it sends shivers down my spine.

He smells of dark wood and pure masculinity. It makes me feel dizzy when he steps close enough or me to feel the heat radiating off his strong body. His height exceeds me as the moonlight gets covered; his thick arms cage me as he threads his fingers through my hair.

“There’s no need to be nervous, princess. Daddy won’t hurt you,” he purrs, and my head explodes.

Shivers flare throughout my body as the rumbling in his chest bounces in my ears. I instantly become a pile of goo when he addressed himself in a way that deliberately pulled the little girl out from beneath the big girl façade.

“N-no…” I murmur.

It’s not fair for him to use that against me, and I have no idea how he knows that specific tone and word breaks my resistance. Only Daddy can do this to me, and I’m having a crisis. Mr. Stephan is basically Daddy’s twin in many ways, and it’s probably why he affects me this much.

“Max did mention you have a habit of lying,” the stretch of his lips makes my palms sweat.

My bottom lip juts out instinctively, “I don’t!”

I shrink under his stare, and the closeness between us seems rather unprofessional. I could have shifted backward if his hand doesn’t tighten on my hip when he feels the indication of me wanting to step away.

My hands slip up to his chest, and it doesn’t stop him from leaning into my palms; his other hand goes up to my neck.

I freeze with wide eyes when I feel the cool tip of his fingers trail up the length of the side of my sensitive flesh. His fingertip feels the edge of my collarbone while his eyes never leave me; Mr. Stephan makes me feel so small and fragile under him, and my natural submissiveness side seeps through the faint sound from my throat.

He asks, “Do you want to be my good girl?” His thumb swipes over my plump bottom lip.

Daddy says I should do everything Mr. Stephan says, but does that mean I have to answer him too? It doesn’t feel right to be anyone but Daddy’s good girl, though a part of me is desperate of Mr. Stephan to be my Daddy.

He presses lightly on the supple flesh and moves his thumb higher, using his crushed velvet authoritative tone to sink his influence over me.

“Lick.”

My small, pink tongue tips out and flickers again his thumb as an automatic bodily response to his voice. My breath gets caught, and I stare frighteningly up at him. I know the difference between Daddy’s tone to everyone and the tone he uses solely for me, but Mr. Stephan used the tone that got me obeying him as if he is my Daddy.

“You’re Max’s good little girl,” he chuckles throatily. The shine in his brown eyes brightens with amusement.

Mr. Stephan’s lip twitches as twisted delight flickers dimly in his dark eyes, “You’re also Daddy’s little princess, aren’t you? You’re mine too.”

The attraction is too strong, and I have always been a weak girl, so I nod with a sniff. It’s wrong, and I hate myself for being like this. I’m betraying Daddy by confirming what my deepest fear is. I don’t deserve him, and he’s going to leave me because I can’t be just Daddy’s little girl. I shouldn’t want to be Mr. Stephan’s little princess too.

I’m too greedy.

“Do you want to go home?”

My body shakes in horror as my mind sprints regarding the consequences of my actions, “Yeah.”

“We’ll go home,” Mr. Stephan affirms.

“We?” I tilt my head in confusion, bewilderment galloping in my head as the rhythm in my heart rises.

“Max didn’t tell you about me?”

I shake my head. The first time Daddy mentioned Mr. Stephan is after he left, so it’s technically nothing because I met him before he could tell me about this man. I have a firsthand experience of how threatening Mr. Stephan is; the man has characteristics that counter Daddy’s personality.

While Daddy is a temperamental ticking time-bomb, Mr. Stephan is a cold and calculated man that most likely has silent anger rather than explicit profanities.

He swears under his breath, “That bastard.”

“You can’t say that; it’s a bad word,” I said.

Daddy swears a lot, and if I attempt to try one of his bad words, he’s not going to touch me for one full day, and I have suffered that once. It was the worst thing ever. I couldn’t cuddle him at night, and I had to beg for his forgiveness for him to even stop glaring at me.

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