Page 15 of Sugar Daddies

I’m still trying to figure out if this is a test from him or if he’s really okay with me touching another man.

“Don’t look at him; you’re talking to me.” Mr. Stephan jerks my face back to him, and I hold back a whine. He doesn’t have to be so rough.

Daddy and Mr. Stephan are impatient cavemen. I don’t dare to say that out loud. I’m not looking forward to hearing Daddy’s voice calling me a bad girl while lecturing me about manners.

“I’m sorry… Daddy,” I try again, and it works this time. His grip lessens its pressure, and I can move my jaw around to get some feeling back.

From the frequency of my jaw being seized by their hands, I’m sure I have developed strong skin at that spot, so it doesn’t bruise easily.

I sneak a peek at Daddy, and he isn’t mad, so I can sigh a breath of relief, but the ordeal isn’t over just yet. I still have the chocolate that I need to explain to Mr. Stephan. I’m armed with several excuses, but with one look, he renders me speechless.

It’s a smile of a devil. There is nothing angelic about him from the beginning.

“It was supposed to be a surprise for you,” he mentions briefly as if it’s no big deal.

When I’m about to apologize again, he hushes me with a glare. “I’m not angry, little princess.”

Oh, thank god. I was starting to think about different ways to make it up to him, and money seems to be the common denominator. The box of chocolate has to be expensive for it to taste that amazing, even the gold flicks look exclusive.

“Was it good?” he asks.

I bob my head furiously. My doe-eyes are bright when I smile because eating the chocolate made me so happy.

“Do you want more?”

The generosity in his offer and the kindness of his tone is a disguise after I had excitedly claimed that I would do anything to get more from him.

That’s a mistake.

“You have to do something for me first,” he tilts his head, exposing the column of his throat for the tattoo to poke out from his shirt collar.

“I want you to be mine too,” he said.

I whip my head to Daddy with wide eyes. Bells are going off in my head, and I’m frantically begging Daddy with my eyes to help me because this is too much. There should be a manual of how I should act with a proposal thrown at me like that.

“Answer him,” Daddy said as he crosses those buff arms over his chest.

Is that a challenge for me to defy him or does he not care? Am I supposed to understand any of this, or should I think that he doesn’t mind Mr. Stephan being my Daddy too?

I spin back to Mr. Stephan and shuffle my feet to take the edge off my nerves, “I don’t know…”

He growls, “Do you want to?”

There is no time for me to shape my lips around the inevitable truth, “Yeah, I want to.”

Mr. Stephan leans down to my level and smiles; it’s an act of manipulation as a faux sense of security blankets over me.

“You have to take what you want, little princess. Daddy won’t force you to do anything.”

No, Mr. Stephan won’t, but Daddy will.

I take another glance at Daddy, and it worries me that he looks so pleased with my hesitation, either from his rules being drilled in my mind or because I’m too close to be accepting Mr. Stephan.

“Okay,” I sigh and lean on my tip toes to press my lips to his.

The kiss is soft and chaste; I break apart before things get too heated, and I don’t want to cross Daddy’s boundaries.

We haven’t talked about this yet, and I’m treading on murky waters.

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