Page 9 of Mine to Keep

Trouble indeed.The word takes on a whole new meaning with Kate.

The doors of the exclusive boutique part like the red sea before Moses, and we step into its opulent embrace. A sparkling chandelier drips crystals from the ceiling, casting prisms across the marble floor that gleam beneath our feet. The air is perfumed with a fine fragrance—a world draped in opulence with seductive promises of satin and lace.

“Wow,” Kate breathes out, her eyes wide as she takes it all in. I watch her, my heart thudding in a way no business deal ever could orchestrate. In this place where wealth is unspoken but ever-present, she doesn’t seem overshadowed—she shines.

“How about this?” She beckons me with the curl of her index finger, holding up a wine-colored lace bra and panty set. She places it against her voluptuous curves, and I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry.

“Stunning,” I manage, and I meanhermore than the intimate garments in her hands.

She taps her chin as if deep in thought. “I wonder if they have anything in leather?” She giggles, a teasing sound that dances through the air, light and carefree. A quiet growl escapes me as I move toward her, but she shimmies out of my reach. I love seeing this kittenish side of her.

As we move through the store, our conversation flits from silk to lace, from bold to demure. Each piece she selects is a glimpse into her desires, each word we exchange another layer peeled away.

Then she slips into the fitting room with a handful of provocative options, the black velvet curtain closing behind her with a swish that feels final. The quiet left in her wake is heavy as my thoughts drift to us as a couple, the gravity of what we’re doing, and the boundaries we’ve already crossed.

“Mr. Sinclair?” Her sultry voice is muffled by the thick fabric hanging between us. “I’m having trouble with this clasp. Think you can get it for me?”

I know what she wants, and she’s driving me to madness. It’s impetuous and reckless, but there’s not a chance I can sayno. Without hesitation, I push past the curtain, tugging it closed behind me. Inside, the world narrows to the dimly-lit space of the mirrored room and to Kate’s alluring smile. To the lust in her eyes that matches mine.

“Would you look at that? I seem to have gotten that pesky clasp all by myself,” she taunts me, letting the straps of her bra slide down her arms before whipping it off and tossing it to the floor.

She’s a fucking goddess, all tits and ass with an hourglass figure, dressed only in sheer lace panties with a matching garter belt and black fishnet stockings. It’s the sky-high black pumps, though, that do me in, elongating her toned calves and accentuating her thick thighs.

“Think you can be quiet?” I ask, removing my suit jacket and unbuttoning my thousand-dollar dress shirt. “Or do I have to shove those panties in your mouth?”

Suddenly, the small fitting room becomes our clandestine world, the air thick with the scent of her arousal. Velvet drapes shroud us in secrecy, where it’s just me and Kate and the orgasms I’m about to give her.

“Daddy,” she breathes out, and her voice is a silky caress against my ear as I kiss her neck. I can almost taste the heat radiating from her sweet cunt.

I pull her to me, my hands roaming over the juicy globes of her supple ass. I’ve committed her body to memory, every inch of her soft skin, every swell and dip of her luscious curves. Her hands tug at my hair, matching my own need and urgency.

“Like what you do to Daddy?” I groan as obsession surges through my veins. “You own me.”

Her eyes, brimming with mischief and something deeper, lock on to mine. “Then show me,” she challenges, a flirtatious smirk playing on her lips.

And that’s exactly what I do.

I sink to my knees, the plush carpet forgotten beneath me. I lift one of her legs over my shoulder, exposing the intoxicating paradise that promises oblivion. My breath hitches as I trace her soft inner thigh with my fingertips, watching her eyes cloud with yearning.

“Look at you...” My voice trails off, husky with desire. “So beautiful, so ready to be fucked. I can smell your wet pussy, baby. I know you want me.”

“Yes,” she moans, losing herself in the sensations before covering her mouth with a hand.

“Good girl,” I praise her. “Be quiet or I’ll stop.”

I don’t wait for her compliance before my tongue finds her slick cunt, filling my mouth with her divine flavor—sweet and heady, like ripe forbidden fruit. She shudders, a symphony of sighs and hushed pleas that urge me deeper into the madness.

“Fuck,” she pants with a trembling exhale, spurring me on.

In the confined intimate space, each lick, each kiss, is amplified—a testament to our reckless abandon. Her hips buck against my face, seeking more, seeking her release.

“Come for Daddy.”

“Tommy, I—” Her words cut off as she clings to me, her body convulsing in waves of ecstasy that crash through her, spilling her cum into my mouth.

Our shared breathlessness fills the silence that follows, a tangible reminder of yet another line we’ve crossed. In this stolen moment, there’s no turning back.

I spin her around, a swift movement that has her facing the mirror. Her blue eyes are wild, caught between alarm and anticipation. I press my hand against the front of her throat. “Remember, baby. If you don’t want me to stop…” I whisper a warning, my voice a low growl. “Daddy’s going to make you come again.”

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