Chapter 17 Maia
Chapter seventeen
Maia
Entering the penthouse, I dropped my purse beside the mountain of shopping bags before collapsing onto the couch.
It was already late afternoon, and I knew Blaine would still be buried in work with Killian.
Deciding not to bother him, I let myself drift into a short nap, followed by a long soak in the bath.
By evening, I slipped into the kitchen to throw together a quick dinner, wearing a lingerie set that looked like it belonged in a magazine spread rather than on my body.
Lisette’s recommendation, of course. “Ease his mind,” she’d said, “especially after you dropped nearly half a million in one day.” In my defense, Blaine had been the one to assure me there was no spending cap. You reap what you sow, Mr. Porter.
Still, the lingerie wasn’t just about him.
I was celebrating. Today I sent the final payment to Felix, wiping my uncle’s debt clean.
I’d practically been kicking my feet with glee, wishing I could shove my shiny new black card down Felix’s throat just to show him I was free.
No more shackles. No more control. Just me, finally unburdened.
Of course, dropping close to a million dollars in one day hadn’t exactly been part of my plan. I could only pray Blaine’s definition of “no limit” extended far enough to forgive my impulse purchases.
The elevator chimed, and I peeked out of the kitchen just in time to see Blaine step into the penthouse. His eyes swept over the sea of bags waiting for him, one brow arched as he loosened his tie. He’d changed into a fresh suit sometime during the afternoon—dark, sharp, impossibly crisp.
I tiptoed toward him, heart thrumming, until his gaze flicked to me. His brow shot up, his eyes trailing over every inch of lace I’d slid myself into.
“Fuck, it must be Christmas…” he muttered, and I bit my lip as I tugged the rest of his tie free.
“Well, that figures… because I’ve been feeling a bit naughty.”
“Pretty smooth, Sunshine,” he said, his gaze shamelessly dropping to the lace of my bra as I slipped open the buttons of his suit jacket. I pushed it off his shoulders and leaned up to press a kiss to his neck.
“I learned from the best, Mr. Porter,” I whispered.
A gasp escaped me when his big hands gripped the backs of my thighs, lifting me like I weighed nothing. He carried me into the kitchen, weaving around the sea of shopping bags before setting me down on the counter.
“So tell me, Sunshine…” he drawled, caging me in with that tall, delicious frame, “…how deep of a hole did you dig with that new card?”
“Just under a million. Nothing too extravagant.” I shrugged, leaning back on my hands like the innocent sugar baby I was tapping into.
His brow ticked, but his mouth curved into a sly grin. “Now, sweetheart, how do you go from fifty grand every few weeks to a million in a day? At this rate, you’re truly going to suck my pockets dry.” His voice dipped low, seductive. His hands stroked up my thighs, deliberate, teasing.
“Thought we already talked about me sucking you dry,” I giggled.
He hummed, leaning closer until his lips brushed mine. “I might need you to remind me then.”
My arms looped around his neck, pulling him down as a moan slipped free the moment his grip tightened on my waist, dragging me to the edge of the counter. His tongue slid against mine, hot and demanding, and God, I’d never get enough of the way this man tasted.
Maybe it was all the sugar he inhaled; maybe his blood was actually chocolate. Whatever the reason, I was addicted. Every kiss, every tease, every damn second of Blaine Porter pressed against me.
His hand slipped beneath the lace of my underwear, and I broke the kiss with a breathless moan.
“I made dinner…” I whispered, flinching as his thumb pressed directly onto my clit.
“Oh?” His mouth curved, eyes hooded with lust. “What did you make, Sunshine?”
“Lemon garlic butter scallops… broccoli and mashed potatoes,” I managed, my eyes rolling back as he teased me through the fabric.
“Didn’t know you were a master chef, baby.”
“Hardly that. I saw it in a cookbook once. Be lucky your kitchen isn’t on fire.”
He chuckled, then dipped his hand fully into my panties. My jaw dropped as his fingers slid into my soaked heat, his thumb circling my nub in perfect rhythm. His gaze darkened wickedly.
“Oh, I know I’m fucking lucky, Sunshine,” he murmured. “Though I could’ve done without the vegetables. I don’t get along with them.”
“Fruits and vegetables are important for your diet, Mr. Porter,” I panted. “They’re good for you.”
His smirk was sinful. “You’re good for me, baby. Especially when your little cunt begs me to use it.”
“And are you planning to make me keep begging… or are you going to do something about i—”
My words broke into a scream as my release crashed through me, sudden and overwhelming. My legs trembled, my hands clutching his wrist desperately while he held me there, milking every shudder and cry until I was nothing but a quivering mess on the counter.
When he finally withdrew, he brought his glistening fingers to his lips, licking them clean without a hint of shame.
“My sugar baby tastes better than candy… figures, huh?”
“Only you would truly know, Mr. Porter,” I gasped between breaths.
His brow arched at my tone, and then I heard the low rasp of his belt unbuckling. My heart slammed against my ribs as he freed his cock, thick and heavy, dragging the tip against my swollen clit as he pushed my lace aside.
“Is that a hint of attitude I detect, Sunshine?” he asked darkly.
“And what if it is?” I whispered, biting my lip only to choke on a moan as he drove into me, stretching me wide.
“Then I’ll have to teach you a lesson,” he groaned, hoisting my legs higher against his chest before thrusting mercilessly into my core. “Can’t spoil you too much if you’ve got an attitude, can I?”
My arms wound around his neck, my head falling back as pleasure ripped through me. Every brutal stroke turned my body to putty, and all I could do was cling to him, moaning helplessly as Blaine Porter ruined me on his kitchen counter.
“Blaine—” I tried to whisper in his ear, but a strangled moan cut me short as his hips slammed into mine, deep and eager.
My nails dug into his back through his shirt, clawing for at his skin as I pulled him closer.
He only pressed a kiss to the top of my head, like he had me exactly where he wanted me.
My mind betrayed me with a comparison I didn’t want to make—Felix.
Dry. Boring. Selfish. Never once making me feel like this.
But Blaine? Blaine was otherworldly. Consuming.
Relentless. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he wasn’t even chasing his own release…
too focused on wrecking me, on dragging every orgasm out of my trembling body.
Something Felix had never been capable of.
I forced the thought away, letting myself go limp under the overwhelming flood of pleasure as my second orgasm crashed into me. My body convulsed, clenching tight around him as he drove harder.
“Good girl, baby. Good fucking girl,” he murmured, voice rough and intoxicating.
The praise ripped me apart. My nails raked deeper, tearing fabric, leaving marks on his skin, but he didn’t care. He welcomed it. Hell, he probably thrived on it. His jaw was tight, his lip caught between his teeth, brows furrowed in concentration as he fought for control.
And then, oh God, I made the mistake of looking down.
Of actually watching his cock slide in and out of me.
The sight startled me, a rush of heat and shame tangling in my chest, because it made me feel so small, so helpless…
like my body wasn’t even mine anymore, just his to use, fuck, and ruin however he wanted.
The way my hips angled up to meet every brutal thrust, the way his cock spread me like I was his to own.
The sight of him like that, losing himself, undone by me was indescribable. It made me wetter, needier, desperate to see him crumble to the same ruin he’d pulled from me again and again.
Leaning up to his ear, a reckless thought crossed my mind. I’d never say the words in a serious situation, never naturally, but with him? With the way our dynamic kept growing, shifting, twisting into something equal parts unholy and addictive? It felt right. At least this once.
The little devil on my shoulder won. I whispered, feigning innocence though every nerve in my body screamed the opposite:
“Give it to me, Daddy.”
The words were barely out before his eyes snapped wide. Horror. Lust. Intrigue. The faintest hint of disgust. All tangled in one look. There was a beat of silence.
A split-second where I swore even the air froze.
Then he snapped.
He yanked out of me so suddenly I gasped, only to choke when he spun me around and bent me over the counter. His cock drove back into me in one brutal thrust that had my eyes rolling back instantly.
A fist tangled in my hair, yanking my head up until my back arched in a deliciously painful way. He stared down at me, disbelief flickering in his gaze even as his cock buried deeper.
“You are fucking crazy, Sunshine,” he growled, shaking his head.
A drunken smile tugged at my lips as another cry ripped free.
He kissed me roughly before releasing my hair, both hands clamping onto my hips.
His thrusts turned feral—sloppier, rougher, deeper—like he meant to fuck the words right back out of me.
Each thrust ruining me even more, fucking me into the counter like I was his to break.
“Blaine—Blaine,” I panted, my legs shaking.
“Ah, ah, ah, Sunshine.” His voice cut sharp over my moans. “You asked me to give it to you. Now you’re going to fucking take it.”
That broke me. My body convulsed over the counter, guttural sounds spilling out of me as he fucked me through another climax. He slammed into me, again and again, my body jerking forward with each thrust. The counter dug into my hips, my cheek flat to the cold surface as I screamed his name.
Whimpers, sobs, desperate cries… I didn’t even recognize my own voice. I didn’t even know what I felt anymore. My mind was scrambled, legs useless, voice stolen. He hadn’t just fucked me, he’d taken something. Some part of me I wasn’t sure I’d get back.
And the worst part? I wanted him to do it again.
I could feel his smirk against my skin, like he was savoring every ruined sound. He didn’t stop until I was trembling and wrecked, until I thought my cervix might tap out.
Finally, when my orgasm turned into shudders, he pulled out with a low groan. His fist wrapped around his cock, stroking once, twice, before heat spilled across my lower back and ass in hot, sticky ropes.
So much for eating the dinner I’d made after a long day of shopping. Turns out I was the main course of his night.