Hot Sugar

“All it means is that I choose you,” he says simply. “There are some people who can have it all, and I’m one of those guys,” he growls, pressing another kiss to my forehead. “But in the event that I can’t, then I want you.”

I pull back a little, eyes stunned.

“You mean … you’re giving up the CEO position? Everything you worked for?” My mouth gapes. This is beyond my wildest dreams, my craziest fantasies.

Mason shrugs again before pulling me back against that hard warmth. And oh god, even during this heartfelt conversation, I feel a stiffness against my bottom. His cock, huge and hung, tempting me, making my pussy moisten as we reveal our deepest desires.

But Mason is a businessman always, relentless and dominating.

“That’s right, sweetheart. If I have to give up the CEO title, then I will. I’ve been in the top spot for a long time, sweetheart. It was getting boring anyways.”

I grab at his chest.

“But I don’t want you to,” are my choked words. “Not for me.”

And the billionaire turns to me then, clasping my face between his hands before pressing a soft kiss to my lips.

“Not for you,” he repeats, making my heart thud hard for a moment. “But for us. I want you, Carrie Newman. You, through and through, nothing held back, all the way.”

And with that, I hurtle into his arms. Because we have a lot to work out for sure. Things got so messed up that it’s almost impossible to believe. My parents acting like lunatics. The trip to Paris where I was disinvited. The fear. The recriminations. And my depression, my inability to leave this darkened room for two weeks.

But somehow we’ll come out of it. And we’ll come out of it stronger, brighter, happier, because this is how it was meant to be. Sure, Mason and I started out months ago as a sugar daddy and his baby. Two people in a transaction, money for sex, a sweet teen’s companionship thrown in as an extra.

But somehow, our experience has transcended that. Because two people met, spent time together, and fell in love along the way. It’s not that weird is it? That’s usually the way these things go. And for sure, this isn’t perfect. And it may never be perfect. But I know that I love Mason Channing, and that the billionaire loves me. We’ll give up what we have to. We’ll make concessions where we have to. Maybe he won’t be CEO anymore. Maybe I’ll never get my degree. But you know what? It’s okay. Because I have my heart’s desire … and that’s my man, Mason Channing.

EPILOGUE

Mason

A year later …

“Oh god,” I moan, eyes closed. “Oh god, Mason, now now.”

And the billionaire obliges.

Slowly, smoothly, he eases that fat cock into my ass.

Another guttural groan escapes my throat, anus clenching around his thick hardness.

“Yes,” is my helpless gasp. “Just like that.”

And Mason growls behind me.

“Look up sweetheart. Look up right now. I want you plugged full both ways as you enjoy the city of lights.”

Because this isn’t just anal. This is hard DP. The man has a dildo stuck in my cunt as he fucks my behind. And not only that, but I’m crouched on a bed in our hotel room, the windows thrown wide open so there’s a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower, majestic in its brilliance.

This is perfect.

He’s so perfect.

This moment is perfect.

Because we’ve come a long way since our sugar daddy / sugar baby arrangement. First, Mason stopped paying me. Or he didn’t stop exactly, it just got a lot less obvious.

“Sweetheart,” he growled in my ear one day. “I’m putting a hundred thou into your account for you to use as you see fit. It’s just a little something for my best girl.”

I whirled, hair flying, eyes wide.

“A hundred thousand?” was my helpless gasp. “That-that’s not necessary Mason.”

But the billionaire’s eyes gleamed.

“It’s necessary sweet thing. It’s necessary for my woman to have everything she needs, to have access to my fortune. So take it pretty baby. It’s yours.”

And I gasped because this act of generosity was incredible. Truth be told, I’ve never had two nickels to rub together, so to suddenly be worth six figures was a shock.

Plus, this was on top of everything else Mason had already done. Because he put my parents into rehab at one of those places that costs an arm and leg. He enrolled Nicole in a top girls’ school in Manhattan, buying all her books and supplies. And they get along great, the billionaire more like a big brother than a remote and powerful CEO.

And maybe Mason and I aren’t married yet, but we’re definitely headed there. We live together now, and to the public, we’re one. So yes, I attend company functions. I show my face to his friends. And we sleep in a big bed each night, my curvy form wrapped around that hard frame.