I’ve been in my father’s office multiple times, which is
impressive, but Tristan’s is even more so. Two walls made up
entirely of windows overlooking the financial district. A leather. sofa in front of a fireplace. And on the other side of the office,
there are built in bookshelves behind a humongous desk. He
leads me over to it now, hitting a button on his phone that
brings down the blinds on the windows, darkening the office,
except for the flicker of the fireplace and the glow of his
computer.
With a firm hand on my back, Tristan bends me forward over his desk, putting my face right in front of the screen–and there it is. The sugar babies website has been pulled up and my profile is open. Just knowing he looked at these pictures of me so
scantily dressed wets my panties, makes me restlessly hot.
“Lia Estel Amarie,” Tristan says, using my full name, his hand
flat between my shoulder blades, his lap pressed to my bottom.
“You tell me right now that someone stole these pictures. That
you didn’t voluntarily put them up on this horrific website.”
“…I…”
“Lia, you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t.”
“I did,” I whisper, my breath fogging up the computer screen. “How…who sent you this? How did you find out?”
Tristan lets out a hiss of breath over my confession, his big hand twisting in the back of my tank top. “A friend sent it to me, urging me to try the service. A service where men my age find young girls to fuck between business meetings. It’s
inexcusable. It’s wrong.”
I don’t like making Tristan this upset. He doesn’t take care of himself and I get very worried about his stress level. Sometimes it even keeps me awake at night, tossing and turning anxiously, wishing he would just let me care for him. But I have to see this
through. This is make or break. I can’t go on waiting for him to see me as more than a little girl. I have to force him to notice. I have to tempt him until he gives in. The alternative is loving him.
from afar for the rest of my life and I truly think that will kill me.
So it’s full speed ahead.
Trust the plan.
“I wonder if your friend is one of the men who messaged me,” I
drawl. “Asking to meet.”
Tristan stiffens, the tempo of his breath changing. Growing
harsher. The fire crackles on the opposite end of the office. And
then he does something I’m not expecting, but excites me
beyond my wildest dreams. He flips up my skirt and spanks me.
7: Lis
Hard.
“Cock teasing little brat,” he grunts, slapping his palm against my other cheek, ripping a gasp from my mouth, my fingers turning to claws on the desk. “You will take yourself off this
fucking site. Immediately. You’ll delete every message you
received. And I’m going to watch you do it. You’re going to sit
that hot little ass right in Big Daddy’s lap and take it all the hell
down.”
I want to tell him yes. Yes, I’ll do it.
Especially because he called himself Big Daddy. Treating me
like his wayward little girl, just like I’ve dreamed about for so
long. I want to scream my agreement and make him happy and
be a good girl. But I can’t do that yet. Not yet. Not until he claims.
me himself.
“No,” I whimper. “You can’t make me.”
“Oh yes I can.” I’m turned over and crowded up onto the desk.
He looms so close, I have no choice but to open my thighs for
him, my femininity clenching when he steps between them,
pressing his hard shaft flush to my cleft. “You don’t need the
money, Lia. Why?”
“I do need it.” I wet my lips, hating that I have to lie. “M–my father
keeps me on too short a leash. I want more spending money.
7: Lis
Not that I owe you an explanation.”
“Don’t you, baby?” He ducks his head, breathing hard against the side of my neck. “Don’t you owe me an explanation, after treating me to little peeks of tits and ass for months? After you flashed me that airtight pussy on my kitchen counter?”
My thighs flex involuntarily around his bulky hips, my nipples throbbing now. Painfully. “You have a filthy mouth, Mr.
Hemsworth. I had no idea.”
“Take down the profile,” he says with forced calm, his lips traveling up the side of my neck to bury in my hair, his hands.
inching higher and higher up the outside of my thighs. “You
want spending money? I’ll get you a credit card. Cash. Whatever
you want. But you don’t respond to any of those men. You take
your beautiful image off the site.”
Almost there.
I can’t believe it, but we’re almost there. He’s touching me,
offering me money.
It’s happening.
Once we have an agreement, we’ll have time. Time alone. To
finally get to know each other as adults. I’ll finally be able to show him how good we can be together.
7: La.
I run my hand down the length of his tie, tugging gently. “Are
you offering to be my sugar daddy, Mr. Hemsworth?”
“What?” he barks, his head coming up. Eyes flashing.
“Absolutely not. I’ll give you the money without strings. I’m not making a teenager fuck me for cash.”
Make me?
Is he crazy? I’m practically begging.
Push a little more.
“I won’t take your money without giving something in return.”
“Lia. No.” Even as he supposedly turns down my offer, he rakes
his hands down over my breasts, plumping them in his hands. Teasing my already–stiff nipples between his thumb and forefinger. “Jesus Christ, these tits…they make me so goddamn
hot.”
That admission dampens my panties even more. So close.
Ever so slightly, I tug him forward by the tie, planting my mouth
against his ear. “There are a lot of reasons a man like you would
want a sugar baby.” Slowly, I let go of his tie, lean back slightly
and peel off my tank top, watching a violent shudder pass
. through him at the sight of my bare breasts. I draw his hands to
them, urging him to mold the mounds in his strong grip and a
wet spot appears on the fly of his pants, that massive chest heaving. “For one, you don’t have time to date. But you still deserve pleasure, don’t you?” I find his erection with my hand, rubbing the now–wet material up and down, earning a guttural moan from his mouth. “And with so much money, Big Daddy, why not get that pleasure from a virgin? Don’t you want a little
girl all your own?”
“Goddammit, no. A virgin?” His hands leave my breasts and grip. my hips, as if he’s trying to convince himself to push me away. Instead, he yanks me up against his big body forcefully, dislodging my hands from his arousal. “Ah Jesus. No. I can’t. I
can’t. I could be your father.”
“No. But you can be my Big Daddy.” I open my thighs wider
around his hips, arching my back enticingly. “Big Daddy gets to
put it anywhere.”
I have no sexual experience. I’m just a flirt.
But I can sense Tristan is on the verge of something
extraordinary. His back is beginning to hunch, his fingers
clutching and unclutching my hips. The color of his face deepens, his eyes squeezing shut. Nostrils flaring.
“You’d own my mouth. You’d own all of me,” I whisper. “I’m on
the pill so you don’t have to pull out or use a condom.”
7: Lia.
And then he makes a choked sound, ramming his hips up
between my thighs. Just once. And he bellows into my neck, grinding down, down, his hefty frame shaking against me. Straining. Dampness blooms on the front of his pants, so much. moisture that it drenches my panties, making them cling to my
sex. All I can do is take it, let him soak me, my mouth open in utter shock and joy, my hands stroking his broad back
soothingly.
“Get it all over me, Big Daddy. I’m your good girl.”
Another bellowing moan and more release soaks the fly of his dress pants, his shaft jerking behind the zipper, his grip bruising
on my hips. His mouth kisses my neck reverently, just once, and
then unexpectedly, he tears himself away from me, taking a
pocket square from the back pocket of his pants and wiping his forehead and upper lip, his gaze hot and a little wild on the spot.
between my splayed thighs. “Take the profile down. Now.”
“Does this mean-”
“Yes,” he heaves, raking a hand down his face. “I’ll be your…
sugar daddy.”
I come very close to crying.
I’ve loved him so long.
7–L
Now I get to kiss him, be with him, spend time together the only
way a no–nonsense businessman like him would ever allow.
Under a contract. I want to throw myself into his arms, but I can
tell he’s stunned by the force of his reaction to me. Knowing I
need to give him time to acclimate to our new relationship, I put
my tank top back on and hop off the desk, turning toward the
monitor of his computer. A few key strokes later and the profile
has been deleted.
“There,” I say, blinking back at him over my shoulder. “I’m
taken.”
Still not breathing normally, Tristan jerks his wallet from his
front right pocket and removes every bill in the fold. A giant
stack of hundreds. And hands it to me. “Until I can make
arrangements.”
Guilt tries to pervade my belly, but I ignore it. Tristan is a multi-
billionaire. There is no limit to what he can afford. Plus, I remind
myself, he would never agree to a normal relationship with me.
He’s a man of rules and structure. I should know, I’ve been
infatuated with him since I was twelve. There is no cheating at
board games under his roof. No dessert before dinner. He
needs things outlined perfectly and that’s why this plan will
work. Until I can convince him we can have a real relationship.
No money involved. Just love.
“Thank you,” I say, going up on my toes to kiss him softly on the mouth. “I’ll wait for you to call.” Another kiss, followed by a gentle bite of his full bottom lip. “I’ll think of you non–stop.”
He groans, staggering toward me and kissing me back, inhaling me, really, before breaking away as if shaken. More than anything, I want to be held in his arms, especially after my first sexual experience, but I know how to quit while I’m ahead. I’ve gotten what I came for and I better leave before Tristan’s
conscience gets the better of him. So with one more kiss of his masculine mouth, I fix my clothes as much as possible and
leave the office, already counting the seconds until my phone.
rings.
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.