Sugar Baby Mine

Epilogue

Seven months later

BENJAMIN

“Not only is it hot as balls today, the excessive amount of people in here is making me sweat even more.”

“Baby.”

“I mean, I know this is like a once-in-five-or-six years thing, but damn, didn’t know that many people were fucked up over a flower blooming.”

“Emmeline,” I try again, gently pulling her toward me and out of the way as someone rushes by us to get to a group of people ahead of us in line.

“Like, I mean, I guess we’re here, too, so I know I’m being a hypocrite, but I work with flowers every day. I think I’m at least a little entitled to this space.”

I lean down and place my lips at the shell of her ear. “Little bird, if you want me to make everyone go away, just say the word.”

Her face turns up to look at me, brows pulled low and a frown marring her delicate features. I never liked that look on her.

“You know you’ve never managed to convince me you haven’t killed someone before, and when you say shit like that, it’s all I can think about.”

I can’t help but roll my eyes. She’s had this hard on for me being some mafia gangster since we met. I’ve always liked to press her buttons just as much as she delights in pressing mine.

“All I meant was that I could book us a private tour after hours if you wanted, instead.”

“And have you spend several grand just to see some flowers in silence? Pass. You’re not blowing your 401k on that shit. Plus, it might be done blooming by then.”

My eye twitches. “You and your bratty fucking mouth are gonna be sorry when we get home and I stuff my cock down your throat until you choke.”

Emmeline turns to face me fully, standing on her tiptoes so that her breath fans over my jaw. I’m so tempted to grab her, pull her even closer, to press her tight little body against mine and kiss the sass right out of her mouth. But I know her limits, and public affection is something that makes her anxious, so I’ll follow her lead wherever she’ll take me.

“And what if I like that?” I know she does. “What if I want you to fuck my mouth until I’m crying and choking on your dick, so desperate to taste your cum that I’ll do fucking anything?” Her chin tips up, eyelashes fluttering as the jade green of her eyes gets swallowed up by the black of her pupils.

I walk her a step forward, and she follows gladly.

My little bird is sin in a bottle, ready for the taking. And it looks like she wants to be taken, all right.

My hand rests on the curve of her waist, bare skin beneath my fingers due to the ridiculous crop of the tank top she’s wearing. If I truly were a mob boss, maybe I would gouge out the eyes of anyone who looked at her ass in these tiny fucking jean shorts, but I’m not. Let them look at my girl. I know it’s all I ever want to do.

“Then it sounds like we’re gonna have a fun night of the back and forth you love so much,” I drawl, thumb circling her damp skin. She nearly careens away from me entirely when a giggle bursts from her lips, swatting my hand away from her waist as she turns back around.

“No tickling in public.”

I guide her another few steps forward with my palm on her low back, and we’ve finally made it around the corner of the roped walkway now.

I step into the space behind her, dipping to her ear. “So, in private, then?”

She snorts, head shaking and her ponytail swishes under my nose. I perch my chin on top of her head and tug on the ends of her hair, the soft white-blonde and black bleeding through my fingers.

“Are you the tickle monster now?”

“If you want me to be.”

I grip her waist, tugging her back to me, my gaze casting out over the line of people around us slowly shuffling. I nudge her forward as we take a step before molding against her back and letting my palm slide down around her hip, hooking my thumb in the absurdly tiny pocket that could barely hold a quarter. She leans back against me, tight shoulders pressing into my chest as we take another step. I watch her eyes focus in on the blooming corpse flower, and she nearly vibrates in my hold.

“And look at that, it’s nearly our turn to get close.”

Emmeline looks up over her shoulder at me, crease back between her brows.

“I don’t know how you do it, but you’re always exactly what I need.” She says it so softly, I lean in to hear her better. My gaze drifts down when she bites her lip, glossy under the press of her teeth.

My stomach flutters, and when she presses her ass back against my pelvis, I really wish we were anywhere but here. My dick starts to throb and I grunt with the effort it takes to hold myself back, squeezing her hip and steadying the roll of her body.

“Don’t tempt me, I’ll carry you out of here like the caveman I am.”

“Not before we see what we came here for, you won’t.” She switches up, features hardening into her no-nonsense front as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“I’m noticing that’s not entirely a no…”

“Ben,” she trills, bumping her hips back against mine again and it’s pure torture.

“You know I love it when you say my name like that, baby.”

“Like I want you to stop?”

I lean down to her ear again. “Like your greedy little pussy’s wet for my cock, and you can’t stand the fact that you have to wait now.”

“Shut. Up.”

I love it when I’m right, but I love it more when she’s got a fire burning in her blood. Her bite is so fucking beautiful.

We take another few steps forward, and the flower we’ve been waiting in line for twenty minutes to view is finally within reach—well, several feet beyond the railing of the walkway. It’s actually really interesting, once you get past the smell of rotting meat that emanates from it. Much taller than I expected, the silk of the purple petal curling back from the green stalk is nearly the color Emmeline loves so much.

She vibrates under the press of my palms on her shoulders.

“Take your pictures,” I remind her.

“Duh,” Emmeline grumbles, holding out her hand. I dig her phone out from my jeans because hers can’t hold a thing with the way they’re molded to her.

Once she has her phone, she takes a dozen or so photos before asking me to take one of her as well. While I’m not the best photographer, I snap what are some good shots, though my attention is more focused on the bright smile that stretches across her face than the corpse flower behind her.

“Ohh, it’s perfect—” The words die in her throat, and she nearly drops her phone while I’m passing it over.

I blink.

She blinks.

Someone says, “Excuse us,” from behind us, and I gently nudge Emmeline down the walkway until we’re standing in front of a planter filled with an array of purple, pink, and white flowers that smell much more pleasing.

“Did I—”

“Yes.”

“I don’t—that doesn’t—really—”

I circle my hands over her wrists, smoothing my fingers along her palms. She pulls her gaze up from the stone pavers beneath our feet. But she’s staring into the patch of flowers now, and I can tell from the glazed look in her eyes that her thoughts are jumping from one thing to another faster than I can parse out.

“Would you still love me if I was a caterpillar?” she asks after a moment.

I bring a hand up to her chin, tipping her face up as I tuck her phone back in my pocket. “How is this any different than when you asked if I would love you if you were a worm?”

Her nose scrunches up, adorably so, and the strong set of her gaze narrows in on me. She reaches up and grabs my chin between her fingers until we’re mirroring each other. Then she turns my head to the patch of flowers.

“There’s a fuzzy yellow caterpillar on that purple flower.”

“Where?”

“There.”

“What? Where?”

“Right there.” She shakes me with a jostle of her arm, other hand pointing in front of us.

“Oh,” I drawl when I finally find the chubby, yellow caterpillar. She drops my chin and I do the same to her as we both watch the caterpillar inch its way toward the flower stem.

“It looks like it’s wearing a sweater.” Emmeline crouches down to get a better look.

“Don’t touch it.” I frown when she reaches her hand out. “Sweet and cute can be deceptively dangerous.”

“Like me?” She grins up at me.

“Yes, like you.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“Would you love me if I was a caterpillar?”

“I will love you always, in this life and the next. But please God, make me a caterpillar as well.” I mutter the last bit as I roll my eyes up to the domed glass roof, my plea to whatever higher being that may be out there listening.

“I can still hear you, jerk,” she says, snapping back up with her hands on her hips. She narrows her eyes at me. “But I guess I’ll take that as an acceptable answer.”

“Come on.” I point my chin over her shoulder. “Let’s finish walking through the collection.”

“Oh, can we see the orchid display?”

“Of course.”

“Oh, I can’t wait. Orchids are so elusive to me, it’s the one plant I’ve never been able to keep alive.”

I snort. “It’s funny you think that the calathea you brought with you is still alive.”

She paws at my chest, her nose scrunching up. “It was fine until Pebbles peed on it. You said he might try and eat it, but I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Lies.” I shake my head. “Let’s get going.”

When we get back home, Emme tosses the brown paper bag filled with penny candy from the sweets shop on the kitchen counter before digging through every cabinet.

I tap on the cabinet door on the island, right beneath where I’ve got a label that spells out what’s inside just for her. She still forgets to look sometimes. “Right here.”

She sets back on her heels and closes the upper cabinet she was looking through before coming over to me. She pulls out a bright blue bowl, which we’ve deemed her snacking bowl, and pours the candy from the bag into it. Individual selections from the candy store downtown, one piece of this, one piece of that. Anything that appeases her senses.

I pull out one of the blue raspberry Tootsie Frooties and twist the wrapper off.

“Hey, that one’s my favorite.” She pouts.

“But it’s my birthday.”

“What?” She recoils like I’ve hit her, which fills me with dread. “You’re joking.”

“No.” I shrug. “It’s my birthday.”

“Wait, wait, wait—how is—you said—maybe you didn’t—” I can see the way her brain stutters, and she stiffens up like someone’s pressed pause on her brain.

I take her hands in mine, stepping closer to her and tucking her under my chin until she can feel the steady beat of my heart as I wrap my arms around her. “I told you once before, it was the 17th.”

“I thought it was the 17th of August.”

“Mmm no, it’s July.” To be fair, I only told her once, some months ago when she was pestering me about it. I was being cagey because I’m not particularly fond of the fact that I’m turning forty-six.

“But—” She wiggles out of my hold, disappearing into the hallway. “I wrote it down, I swear!”

I lean against the counter, watching the corner of the wall for her to pop back around.

It doesn’t bother me that she didn’t remember because I barely remember myself most years. It’s not something I actively celebrate, so it’s not a big deal, but I know how this is going to hurt her. She’ll beat herself up over it, and I know I should have reminded her about it because of that. But it slipped my mind until this morning, too, when my mother called while I was out getting us coffee to wish me a happy birthday.

Emme comes back into the kitchen, shoulders slumped as she carries her planner. It hasn’t helped her as much as she’d hoped. The date slipped by her likely because she doesn’t pick it up as often as she thinks.

“I’m officially crazy,” she says, throwing the planner onto the counter and it nearly slides all the way to me. “I wrote it down for today, even circled it three times with a red marker. I fucking suck.”

Her eyes start to well up with tears, and it nearly tears me in half. I’m the asshole in this situation, one million percent. Because I let it slip past me, too.

So I gather her up in my arms, lifting her off her feet and hefting her up onto the island counter so I can step between her legs. She locks her ankles behind my back and curls into my embrace with a small noise of protest in contradiction.

“It’s okay,” I say, hands cupping her cheeks to brush my thumbs underneath her glassy eyes, drawing away the tears that I wish I never had to see fall. “It’s not something that’s important to me.”

“But you’re important to me. And that means this is, too.” Her voice cracks, and I’m about to fall to my knees for her.

“I’m sorry—”

“No, no. Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry. I can’t believe my—well, yes I can. I just—”

I shut her up with a kiss, one that has her fisting her hands in the fabric of my shirt, pulling me even closer. Leaning into the push and pull of our hips, I lower my hands to glide around her shoulders. She presses up into my touch, like she can’t get enough of it.

“I don’t want you to worry about it,” I say in between the flick of her tongue into my mouth, breathless as she tightens her legs around my hips to grind against me. I know she will anyway, so the best thing I can do is to distract. “The best birthday gift you could give me is you.”

“You gonna pay for me, Daddy?” she asks, sultry and low, her teeth biting into her lip and I can almost feel it like it’s my own.

I can’t resist dragging her lip away from her teeth with my thumb, tugging on it until she leans back into my mouth. I can taste the gum I gave her earlier still on her breath, and it makes my mouth water.

“Problem is, you’re priceless.” Leaning back, I watch the way her eyes flutter open to look at me, tears still clinging to her lashes. I hate the way I love that look on her, so alive with emotion that it pours out of her. “Invaluable,” I continue. “You’re worth more than anything I can give you.”

She sucks a breath in like the air is precious. “Don’t be so nice to me.”

“Why not?”

“Because it turns me on.”

I laugh, and she tightens her legs around me until she can rub her pussy up against the front of my pants. My dick swells up so quickly as her breath feathers over my neck and jaw before she throws her head back.

“Stop unless you want me to spend the rest of the night making you come.”

“That sounds like a good birthday to me.”

“Mmm.” I run my nose along her throat, lips finding the pulse low in her neck and it jumps delightfully. “You’re right. There is little else I love more in this world than watching you fall apart with pleasure.”

“So take me to bed. Have your way with me however you like.”

She doesn’t have to tell me twice.

I pull her off the counter, her thighs squeezing around my hips as I shuffle her higher up, my fingers slipping beneath the ridiculous hem of her shorts riding high on her ass. She makes a delighted little hum and hangs onto my shoulders as I walk us to the bedroom.

“Do you want to come on my tongue or fingers first?”

“Why not both?” she asks, tongue in cheek.

“Greedy girl,” I tsk, stepping into our bedroom and kicking the door shut. She drops her ankles from the tight hold on my waist, and I toss her onto the bed where she lands in the middle of the lilac duvet.

She spreads her legs, bringing her feet up to plant flat against the bed. Her fingers drift over the seam of her shorts, a lazy pass of her fingers as she rolls her hips. “So fucking greedy. Come get your present, it’s time to play.”

I lick my lips, her lowered gaze watching the movement. I strip off my t-shirt, kick off my jeans, and pull off my socks. Emmeline watches the entire time, her fingers petting over the denim of her shorts, the fabric turning dark with her arousal dripping from her pussy.

My cock throbs, bobbing in the air as I fist it, squeezing tight around the base. I could jack my shit on her fully-clothed just like this and be a very happy man.

“Take everything off except your panties.”

Her fingers pause, and she points her toes against the bed before dragging her legs together.

A shame.

But she flicks the button on her shorts, drops the zipper that’s one fucking inch, and drags the denim down her thighs. She sits up to pull her cropped tank and bra off before laying back, spreading her legs once more.

Her thighs are glistening, her light blue panties so wet they’re nearly see-through as she walks her fingers down her pelvis.

I groan as she runs her fingers up and down her pussy through the fabric, pressing in at her clit and dropping a little sigh from her parted lips.

My cock throbs and I squeeze tighter, lust flooding my veins and my skin flushing with heat. She is so fucking beautiful that it takes everything I have to stay where I am, to hold myself off from driving my cock into her tight little cunt and making myself right at home. She deserves more than that. I want to drag out every little moan, every sigh, every cry of her pleasure until she can’t take it anymore.

“Come here,” Emmeline calls, crooking her wet fingers at me.

“Scoot up to the pillows.”

She takes my direction well and I crawl into the space between her legs, chasing her until she settles.

I glance up at her from between her thighs, up the length of her neck where her head is tipped back. The red and oranges of the setting sun filter in through the dark curtains, painting her in a swirl of color. Every hitch of her breath is highlighted, every heave of her chest as she pants and tries to remember not to bite her lip. I want to hear every moan, every gasp, every tortured noise I can pull from her. The symphony of her pleasure is the greatest reward, and I love to win.

Leaning in, I press my mouth to her panties and lick through the soaked fabric. I can feel how much she wants me—like it’s engraved into the very marrow of her bones. My desire for her bleeds into something sweeter but far more dangerous.

But the aim is not to tease today, no matter how much I would love to watch her come apart with tears dripping down her cheeks.

I nuzzle into her mound, inhaling. Her scent is deep and rich—evolving toward intoxicating. My eyelids flutter.

“You smell so fucking good. I’m going to savor every last drop from your pussy.”

She still manages to roll her eyes. “Get on with it then.”

As snarky as her tone is, her thighs still press in against me—shy. But her modicum of modesty is half-hearted as she offers her chest out to my seeking fingers. I pinch her nipple between my fingers, plucking upward just as I press my mouth more insistently to the wet seam of her pussy through her panties.

I suck the taste of her from the fabric, licking from bottom to top, delighting in the tremble of her thighs on either side of my head. When I tug her panties to the side, the point of my tongue flicks against her clit, and her entire body jumps. She gives me a breathless laugh in between enjoyment and desire as she reaches down to tug sharply at my hair.

It burns so good, all over.

One taste of her is enough to make my mouth water, and I lean back in for more. She sucks in a breath beneath the weight of my palm as my fingers spread over her sternum. I lick at the folds of her pussy, not quite dipping inside.

“You want my tongue inside this tight little pussy?” I murmur into the quivering crease of her thigh, smearing her juices over her skin with each press of my mouth.

She squirms, her teeth biting into her lip before letting go with a gasp, remembering she’s not supposed to do that, and makes a noise halfway between a moan and giggle. “Please, Ben.”

When she says my name, the fire in my blood burns hotter, brighter, faster. Her hips tilt away from my hot breath skating over her flesh.

I refuse to let her escape, my hand pressing her firmly into the mattress as I thrust my tongue inside her. Her taste overwhelms my senses, and she makes a mess of my mouth and beard as I stroke into her body.

Her thighs tense and tighten, over and over, on either side of my head as my hand slides to the curve of her waist. She’s soft there, pretty sun-kissed skin from laying out on our balcony indenting around my fingers as I move up to tap my tongue against her clit again.

“Do you want more?”

She nods, breath coming out in a pant.

Bringing my free hand down from her hip, I slide two fingers into her hot cunt. Her walls grip my fingers, pulling me further inside, and I close my lips around her clit. Her arousal floods past my fingers, pussy growing wetter to where I can’t help but groan.

Emmeline answers with a whimper, thighs squeezing as her pussy tightens around my pistoning fingers. I break the suction to lick at her clit, swirling, laving attention just enough to get her hips bucking before lowering to dip in alongside my fingers. Her breath turns to a wheeze as she trembles beneath my touch.

I look up at her bare torso, tongue working up to trace abstract shapes over the hood of her clit. There’s sweat beading in between her tits, glistening as the light in the room slowly evaporates into darkness. My cock begins to throb as I press a third finger inside her and hook all of them into the swell of her g-spot.

The whimper she lets loose lilts high at the end. Her back arcs beautifully, pushing the heave of her chest toward the ceiling. Her cresting pleasure is addicting, and I get swept up in it as I lick at her pussy and thrust my fingers deeper inside her.

I could get off just from all the pretty noises she both can and can’t choke down.

“Come for me,” I rasp. “Then I’ll fuck you, because this pussy is begging for my cock.” My tongue rolls over her clit relentlessly, encouraging the motion of her rocking hips with the cup of my palm under her ass. My fingers dig in, and I ache to see my fingerprints painted along her skin in the morning.

“Fuuuuuck,” Emmeline’s moan stretches out the syllables of the word until her head snaps back and her head thrashes side to side. Her fingers clench and tug at my hair, hips stuttering against the press of my mouth as her thighs tremble harder. “Ben—” she breathes, going quiet and rigid.

Her back arches up toward the setting sun like a flower reaching for light, and she blooms just for me.

I work her through the drop, the cresting high that has her legs jerking, clit spasming with the flood of relief as pleasure consumes her.

She is so fucking beautiful when she comes undone.

When she gulps a breath in, her thighs falling further to the side, I lick up the rush of her juices when I pull my fingers free, not wasting a drop. And it’s heaven buzzing on my tongue as I sit back when she nudges my shoulder with her toes.

I hover over her spread legs, not far from her pussy and I let my lips part, gaze rolling over her body in a slow sweep until I meet her stare. Then I let the saliva pooling on my tongue drip down onto her clit.

Her back bows upward off the bed again. She glances down, as if she’d like to see the pretty pink picture of her pussy as it pulses with my spit sliding over her clit to mix with the arousal drenching her folds.

“See what you do to me?” I ask, licking my lips and savoring the taste of her. I can never get enough. “Fucking mouthwatering little cunt.”

The way her mouth drops open, but no words follow her owlish blinking, is astounding.

“Nothing to say for yourself?” I sit up, shuffling forward to settle in place between her thighs, pulling her knees up on either side of my hips as I lean over her.

She cants her hips up, hands rising to pull my face down to her, fingers drifting over my lips and slick beard. “I’m glad that I can affect you like that, especially when it’s pretty obvious just how much you affect me.”

“Oh yeah? Just how obvious is it?”

My cock slides over her wet pussy with ease, coating me. Precum leaks from my tip to add to it all and her hips roll against me, head thrown back as she grasps at the sheets. I bump her swollen clit over and over, and a shudder echoes through her limbs.

“You could pour me into a glass at this point,” she chokes out, lifting her knees to squeeze around my hips, making my cock jump. Her hands press in against the muscles of my abdomen, and they contract in the wake of her touch before sliding further up my chest until she brushes my nipple, pinching lightly.

It sends a jolt of pleasure down my spine, curling in my balls as they tighten.

“Emmeline,” I chide but don’t stop her touch as she roams my body. “Are you ready?”

“I’m always ready for you,” she breathes like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “You could fuck me in my sleep and my pussy would milk your cock happily.”

My eyes clench shut, a groan under my breath as I grip her legs harder. “Stop giving me ideas.”

“Sorry.”

She’s not.

“Don’t be,” I say anyway, looking down at her. She smiles so beautifully when I reach out to tilt her chin up. I lean down until our lips connect in a slow, unhurried kiss, biting me when I edge my cock into her slick pussy.

“Please,” Emmeline whispers against my lips. “I need you so much.” Her fingers dance up my neck before gripping hard for purchase.

I tug her lip, pulling it between my teeth to draw back so that she has to raise up and follow, clinging to my shoulders. I slide deeper inside her as we come closer together until she can rub her needy little clit on my pubic bone. Her cunt twitches and flexes around my cock, her pelvic floor adjusting to the size of me.

She gasps into my mouth and I swallow it down, chasing her tongue with my own as I pull her closer and lay her flat against the bed until there isn’t any space left between us.

Heat sears along my skin, taking in the shape of her beneath me. Desire boils in my blood, crackles in my soul—leaps up into my throat as I rasp out, “Emmeline.”

She throws her head back against the bed as her hands fly up to tug at my scalp.

“So fucking good, baby,” I croon, my hips snapping back before pushing forward again. She’s already fluttering around me. “I love the way your tight little pussy stretches for my cock.”

Emmeline takes a shuddering breath and I lean up onto my elbows to take in the flush of her body, all the way down to her rosy nipples. I circle one with my tongue, flicking against the captive bead through the flesh and tugging on it with my teeth. Her chest pushes higher, seeking my mouth and I give it to her, sucking and licking while she tugs sharply on my hair every time my teeth graze too hard.

Her hands fist in my hair, pulling me off her tits before her fingers slide down my neck, gliding over damp skin. The rounded edges of her nails dig into my shoulders before pushing at me, and I lift to my palms above her.

“Don’t hold back,” she breathes, “Fuck me the way you like.” Her pupils are blown wide, irises dark and stormy. Her gaze explores me like a wave would a sea shore: distant one moment and washing right over me the next.

My fingers trail down her jaw and neck, skin prickling up under my touch as I slowly pump my hips. “And what’s the way I like?”

“Hard. Deep. Consuming. On the line between pleasure and pain.”

I circle a hand around the front of her throat and press her down into the mattress. Her eyes widen before she relaxes, pulling in a measured breath between her teeth. Her pussy clamps around my dick, pleasure slicing through my middle as sweat beads along my forehead.

The amount of control and effort I’ve had to exude since meeting Emmeline is immense, perhaps my greatest achievement beyond the art modern high-rise I designed for Hero Terranova with black and white stripes and undulating balconies.

“And what’s the magic word?” I ask, tone dropping low and slow.

She melts into the bed beneath my weight, her lips curving into a smirk. “Abracadabra?”

I huff out a laugh. I shouldn’t have expected anything less because even when she’s obedient, the brat in her is never far from the surface. I enjoy her submission as much as her resistance, but the back and forth with sass at the forefront is where she truly shines. And I so love flustering her.

Pulling out of her pussy is the worst kind of torture, every part of her clings to my cock like a vice grip. I shift until only the head of my cock is nudging her puffy cunt.

“No, no, no, no—empty, fill me back up.” Her scrabbling hands roam and scratch my shoulders and chest, fire lighting up her gaze that threatens to incinerate me. “Please, I’m sorry, please—need you inside—”

Her panicked babbling cuts off as a desperate, keening sound that stutters up her throat and spills over her lips as I fuck her full, sinking my cock into her with an obscenely lewd sound from the way her cunt sucks me in.

I follow the pull of her hands, lips finding her jaw and space below her ear as my breath spreads over her skin. “You were fucking made for me. This perfect cunt gripping my cock, begging for my cum,” I murmur into the curve of her neck, raking my teeth over the pounding flutter of her pulse. The snap of my hips against hers is brutal, but it’s just what she’d asked for.

And I may be pushing it, using the word perfect after only one instance where it didn’t affect her. But if the way her pussy flutters around my cock is any indication, then maybe it wasn’t a poor choice.

Emmeline tips her head back on a moan—helpless, boneless, listless, in my arms. One hand moves to circle my wrist at her throat and the other twists in the sheets.

“Color?” I breathe over her neck, drifting down to her collarbone, delighting when she shudders.

“So fucking green,” she affirms.

“Good. Now say it—you’re mine.” Possessiveness bellies my voice, my fingers flexing over her throat. Her entire body spasms beneath mine, her feverish cunt already clamping down on me in impending ascension when I grind my hips into her pelvis to put pressure on her clit.

“Yours, yours, yours—” she babbles, her words nearly a slur as her back arches. And she rocks her hips, grinding and matching my pace with soul-snatching intensity. “Fuck—I’m yours. Only yours, forever.”

The sound of our hips colliding, my balls slapping her ass over and over, the scent of sex permeating the air, the ariose noises rising from her throat—it’s tattooed in my memory, right alongside the sound of her saying she loves me.

“Mmmm, can you hear that? How perfectly this pretty cunt is taking my cock?” I drive into her with maddeningly slow precision.

Her pussy flutters, squeezing my cock for all it’s worth, and it’s a wonder I don’t fucking blow then and there. It elicits a groan low in my throat, the sound reverberating against the bony cage of my ribs from how tightly we’re pressed together.

“Keep squeezing me like that, and I’ll fill you up with so much come that IUD will be fucking useless.”

The crazy thing is that it sounds so good in the moment. But in reality, I’m kidding myself. Visions of what we are and what we can be flood my consciousness anyway, and I have to willfully pull away from it or lose myself in the fantasy.

“Oh fuck, I—you’re going to—cum—” She’s babbling again, tongue skipping over words as her cunt seizes up around me.

“That’s right, baby, make a mess on my cock. I want to feel you soak me and these sheets.” My hands trail down the sweat slicked planes of her body to press a firm finger to her clit. “Let go for me.”

The pressure and roll of my fingers over her swollen clit is like pulling the pin in a live grenade. Her tears, sweat, and drool coalesce together as she ignites in the palm of my hand. She tenses and tightens up all over, thighs trembling as she pulls her knees further back. Her eyes twist shut, her head swishing back and forth.

“Look at me,” I demand.

Emmeline’s eyes pop open as I apply more pressure to the sides of her neck. I can see the glaze fall over her eyes as her lip trembles, and she goes rigid beneath me with the quiet sound of my name on her tongue.

The way her pussy clamps down, the rush of wetness making her even slicker, sends pleasure skittering up my spine like a fresh sprinkling of rain glittering across my skin.

“I’m right behind you, fuck—” I moan, bending down to seal my mouth to hers in a kiss that is more teeth and tongue than wandering lips. “You want me to fuck you full of my cum?”

“Please—” she pants, gathering herself. “I want it so bad. I want you to fill me up and plug me full.”

“You beg so pretty for me,” I drawl, my own words nearly a slur as I lose myself to the way her cunt relaxes and the sound of her pleasure as she hums on an incandescent breath. I drop both my hands to the mattress, my breath turns choppy between the slow kisses she awards me, until I can’t stave it off and my orgasm is crashing over me as I slam deep inside her pussy.

Pleasure causes the peripherals of my vision to dim, the hungry flutters of her cunt eagerly sucking my cock into her willing, pliant body.

She hooks her ankles behind my back, pressing her heels into the base of my spine to tug me closer as my cum spurts from my cock, balls kicking up with each pump. Her hands are a soothing balm spreading out across the skin of my back.

I release a slow breath as her arms loosen around my shoulders, her ankles crossing at my back. I don’t even try to peel her off. My thoughts are like leaves scattered on a midnight breeze as I try to collect all the pieces.

But there’s one that always remains.

“I love you,” I breathe.

Emmeline smiles up at me, and my heart skips. The genuine love that bleeds from her soul is so beautiful, and I want nothing more than to bask in it, always.

“I love you, too,” she says in a whisper, lips ghosting over mine as she holds me close.

I never thought I’d believe those words again, but everything with her is like a second chance to live the way I was meant to. I won’t waste it.

She’s my sugar baby.

THE END