Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
I don’t like making Gunner 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.”
Gunner 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. 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 Papa’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 Papa. 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, Josie. 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. 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. Kraft. 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.
I run my hand down the length of his tie, tugging gently. “Are you offering to be my sugar daddy, Mr. Kraft?”
“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.”
“Josie. 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, Papa, why not get that pleasure from a virgin? Don’t you want a little girl all your own?”