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ChapterThree
JULES
Daddy.
The word makes me feel all warm and soft, a momentary balm to months of anxiety. I don’t like it. My anxiety has fueled me and prevented me from being in even deeper debt, so I fight the soothing sensation.
“It’s your choice, Julianna.” His voice is so close to my ear, I can feel it rumble down into the depth of my belly. The vibrations pool and heat, gathering lower.
I force myself to take a step back from Titan’s broad chest. Just enough space to let myself think, just enough room to wrestle back my control.
There are a dozen ways I can interpret Titan’s “Daddy,” but I know it’s not the sugar daddy I’m used to. The word conjures up possession and trust; it means handing over my precious held power to someone I just met. I should hate the very idea of it. I should, but I don’t.
“What do you want from me?” Lust and irritation make the question come out biting. We’re no longer touching, but the space between us is thick with static.
“I want you for the night and in my bed.” Titan’s eyes seem to shift from charcoal to black as they move up my body. They linger at my hips and breasts, stalling on my lips before finally meeting my gaze. “I want you to do exactly what I ask, when I ask. But most of all, I want to take care of you. Your body, your pussy, your pleasure—all of it.”
I look at your ass because I can imagine how it would feel to spank you.He’d said it minutes ago, but it isn’t till now I fully understand what Titan wants.
Daddy. Titan asmyDaddy to pleasure me, to control me.
“Oh.” The breathy moan of the syllable catches in my throat.
I fight the urge to lower my eyes to the floor and instead force myself to stare at the art and artifacts displayed behind Titan’s large frame. I try to estimate the carats of a ruby stone set into a rustic silver bangle and the type of metal an ancient-looking scabbard is made of. I look for anything to distract me from the way my breath has gone shallow, my chest has heated, and I can’t meet Titan’s eyes without clenching my thighs.
He’s not normal. This is not normal. I’m the seductress; I make my arrangements pink-cheeked and flustered as they struggle for words. I pride myself on my ability to read people, to see their hidden desires and become them. I slip easily into each role and have built an arsenal of characters to pull from.
But I can’t read Titan.
I came here wanting a long-term arrangement. Clearly, that’s not on the table. However, a night of quick cash with a man who makes my pussy ache is. If it will give even a week of relief until I find someone else, then it’s worth it. It doesn’t matter that when he looks at me, it feels like he can see beneath my sugar baby camouflage. And I can’t care that when he touches me, I forget about the backlog of angry messages on my phone left by my landlord. No, I can do this. I will let him think he’s in charge, take on the role of his desires, play my part as submissive to his Daddy, and get paid.
Taking a small, steadying breath, I look up at Titan from under my eyelashes, my pink-glossed lips forming my signature flirty smile.
“My rent is due tomorrow.” I bite at my bottom lip, let my gaze drop down in mock shyness, then back up to lock onto his marble eyes.
Titan furrows his brows and gives me a firm, curt nod as he slips a hand into his jacket. He pulls out his phone and, after hitting a few buttons, holds it out to me. I reach for it to get a better look, but he doesn’t let me take it from him. Instead, I have to move in closer, his heat enveloping me immediately, to view what’s on his screen. It’s his cash app, and he already has my name, this time my Sweet Arrangements name, typed into the recipient line.
He isn’t bargaining, and he isn’t questioning my needs. There’s just his open cash app and a blank transaction amount waiting to be filled. I swallow hard, hyperaware of the sudden way the tops of my thighs slip against one another and how the satin fabric of my dress slides against my nipples.
My gaze shifts from Titan to the phone and back.
“Don’t make me wait, Julianna.” His voice drops to a demanding growl that spurs me to action.
I type out three months of rent on his phone.
When I finish, he flips the screen around to look at it. I hold my breath as his eyes pass over the number. He doesn’t even pause before he hits the button. I feel like Pavlov’s dog when, a moment later, my phone chimes with the cash app’sca-ching,andmy panties get thoroughly soaked.
Slowly, I lower my bag to the ground before straightening and stepping towards Titan. My gaze follows my hand as I slide it up his arm and over his shoulder. As I guide my fingers around the back of his neck, I angle my breasts against his chest.
“Thank you… Titan.” I almost call him Daddy. It’s right there at the tip of my tongue, begging to be said, but at the last second, I chicken out. When he’d said it before, the way that I’d felt, all mushy and weak, I can’t feel that way again.
No, I’m staying in control.
I make the first move and lean up on tiptoes and apply pressure to the back of his neck, pulling him to me. I look into his eyes, commanding myself to not react to their startling shine. I brush my barely parted lips against his firm ones. My arms slide over his shoulders as my body presses fully into his.
His large hands land on my waist, hot and firm, as he squeezes gently and releases. He smells expensive, like Italian leather and privilege.
Perfect.
