Page 44 of Hot Sugar


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Literally stops.

Our eyes meet and everything else disappears.

“Hi,” she greets me melodically. I’m not sure that anyone else can hear the words but me.

But shit, there are other people here. Gina the realtor for one. Interior designers. Nicole.

“Hey,” is my casual grunt. “The apartment looks like it’s coming together.”

“It is,” she smiles happily. “Thank you Mason.”

“No worries, honey,” is my casual drawl. “Show me what you’ve done?”

And the brunette almost bounces up and down, she’s so excited.

“Sure,” she chirps, prancing down the hall, that big ass jiggling. “Come on, let’s start with the guest room.”

Good thing this place is enormous because it’s a long ways from where we are to the other people. And the minute the guest bedroom door shuts, I’m on her.

“Shit,” is my growl. “I’ve been waiting to see you all morning.”

But my girl is just as horny, just as ready.

“Me too,” she mewls against my lips, big boobies already pressing against my chest. “Me too Mason.”

We’re a match made in heaven for sure. Because as she writhes and mewls, my cock rises, desperate to be in her. But weren’t we just doing this at seven a.m.? Didn’t I fuck that sweet body into submission hours ago?

But it’s never enough.

“Mason,” she pants. “I need it. I need you.”

“I know sweetheart,” is my growl. “And you’re gonna get it.”

Because we were never going to talk about interior decoration. All that was a ruse. We want to be with one another, and sure enough, my hand pulls her tank top, one big breast bouncing out. Immediately, I’m sucking at that nip hungrily like a baby.

“Mason!” she cries in a sharp whisper and I release her, kissing the bright red skin softly before pulling her top back up and reaching into my suit jacket.

But shit, we can’t just fuck like lemmings, there’s people outside. So roughly, before I get too carried away, I reach into my pocket.

“This is for you,” I say, pressing an envelope into her hand. Because my baby needs money, and she’s gonna get more than enough.

But her mouth drops open.

“Mason?” she says blankly.

“You know, for the sugar baby service,” is my harsh growl. “Five thousand sweetheart, just like we agreed on.”

I expect her to tuck it into her jean shorts, maybe pull her other booby out to thank me. But instead, she stares at the envelope, fingers nerveless.

“Oh,” is her stammered word. “Oh, I see.”

What is there to oh about? This was our agreement.

“It’s more than enough,” is my rough growl. “Buy yourself some nice clothes, honey, because I’m taking you to Paris.”

The brunette lifts confused eyes then, emotion swirling in those caramel depths.

“You are?” she asks softly.

My chin jerks.

“Absolutely,” I breathe into her ear, pressing my mouth against that sensitive lobe before trailing up her small chin. “Absolutely. The city of lights sweetheart, you ever seen it before?”

But Carrie’s not excited. Or she is, but she’s not blown away like I expected. Because she stares at the envelope again before swinging big brown eyes to me. But then the girl takes a deep breath and nods, tucking the money away.

“Thank you Mason,” she says quietly. “Thank you. Of course I’m excited to go to Paris.”

I knew it.

“Great sweetheart,” is my growl. “Will you do something to thank me?” I ask.

She almost looks like she’s gonna refuse, but then the brunette takes another deep breath.

“Yes of course,” she says calmly. “What is it?”

I stare into those eyes.

“Show me your cunt. Right now,” is my harsh command.

And the girl’s cheeks color.

“Mason, no, this isn’t a good time,” are her stammered words, even as the pink crawls across her breast. “We’re in the middle of decorating, and there are people outside, and ….”

But I cut her off.

“Show me your cunt,” are my harsh words. “Right now.”

And this time, the woman obeys. Slowly, her hands unbutton those jean shorts, easing them over her hips. And oh shit, but those lacy panties underneath are enough to make a man spurt. Red and tight, they curve over those swollen lips, highlighting her need.

Because oh yeah, my baby’s wet.

“Show me,” I order again.

And slowly, with conflicted eyes, the brunette obeys. One small hand creeps down her thighs, sliding into that vee before lifting the lace and pulling it to the side, exposing her all.

Oh shit, oh shit.

She’s so goddamn gorgeous.

Pink and exposed, clit already stiff and tall, her folds glistening with need.

And like a man in a trance, I have to touch. One hand reaches out in slow motion, and I stroke along that soft labia, soothing her flesh before flicking against her clit with my fingertips.

The girl shrieks involuntarily.

“Oh Mason!” is her helpless pant. “Mason!”

But this isn’t the time. I trail big fingers over her cunt again, getting them wet and slick, before finishing with another determined tweak to her clit.

The brunette’s eyes fall closed as her hips jerk, trying to push that pussy into my hand for more.

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