Page 31 of Sugar Daddy (Sugar Bowl 1)

I would just have to learn to live with it.

My eyes cut to his reflection, and I swallow hard against the bitterness and hatred within me. I walk across the room as he watches me with heavy-lidded eyes. When I reach him, I step to his side, and with my hand on his waist, I turn him gently away from me.

Lifting my hand, which is shaking with fear, I place the tips of my fingers against the left wing of the phoenix. Beck lets out a sigh as I trace the outline.

"What are you doing?" he asks gruffly. I've never once mentioned his tattoo or inquired about it. This is the first time I've ever touched it.

"Where did you get this?" I ask softly, running my fingers along his skin...tracing the flaming feathers on the tail.

"A little tattoo parlor in Palo Alto," he says.

"While you were at Stanford." It's a statement I can easily deduce based on the fact I assume this might be a fraternity thing and I knew JT and Beck went to Stanford together.

"That's right. Got it after I pledged."

"All members of the fraternity have it?"

"No," he says with a shake of his head. "Just a small group of us."

Bile rises in my throat over the implication but I push it down. Beck was not a part of my rape.

He wasn't.

I make myself lean forward and press my lips to the skin colored with red, gold, and orange feathers of flame. It's warm and he smells like Beck. Clean, fresh, wild.

He turns abruptly, his arms snaking around my waist. He peers down at me intently, understanding that something is going on that he just doesn't quite understand.

"Sela?" he asks in question.

"I'm sad," I tell him truthfully, thinking I should feel self-conscious over admitting a vulnerability to this man, and yet feeling completely and utterly safe in my revelation.

Beck's eyes go soft with sympathy and his hands come to my face. He cradles me gently, bends down further, and kisses my forehead. "What's wrong, baby?"

Your best friend raped me.

While I don't think you did, I have maybe a sliver of a doubt. No, not really. I'm sorry to even think that.

I care for you more than I care about justice for myself, and that makes me miserable.

Yet I can tell him none of that. If I'm going to let it go, that means I can never burden Beck with my knowledge, my memories, or my suspicions. I need to take him as is, and let him be oblivious to my darkest days.

That will be for the best.

So I vow to myself that this will be the last time I lie to him. "I tend to get blue around the holidays. Missing my mom, I guess."

He tilts his head, his blue eyes darkening in sorrow for me. "What can I do to help?"

I shrug, but then throw out a suggestion that I'm not sure will really make anything better for me, but might make him feel like he can help. "Maybe we could put up some of her decorations for Christmas. My dad has them boxed up for me."

"Of course we can do that," he says, and then pulls me into him. I bury my face in his neck and feel his warm skin against mine as we press together. "Where are the decorations?"

"At my dad's. We'd have to go get them."

"So I get to meet your dad, huh? Is he going to like me?"

"He's going to adore you," I assure him with a smile. My dad will utterly love him.

"Like you adore me?" he asks, his voice amused, but I also know this is a serious question.

"Not as much as I adore you, but it will be close," I assure him.

Then Beck's mouth is on mine, and I know he adores me too just by the ferocity of his kiss. Maybe he can't say it in words, but that's okay with me. I can read enough into his actions to know that Beck is on the same page as I am.

His hands come to the back of my bra and he flicks it open before pulling it from me. Then he's opening my jeans, pushing them down my hips and dropping to his knees before me. Fingers going under the elastic of my panties, he pulls them down enough to gain access and runs his tongue up my center. My knees threaten to buckle, but I'm saved when he wraps his arms around them, picks me up, and turns to deposit me on the bed.

In moments, he has the rest of our clothing off and he's climbing onto the mattress. I part my legs, welcome him against me. He lays his body flush against mine and kisses me, hands roaming up my rib cage, his cock swelling against my pelvis.

"You're so goddamn beautiful, Sela. Inside and out," he says, tracing a path with his lips down my neck, over my collarbone. His body inches down mine, blazing fiery trails of warm kisses over my breasts, down my stomach. With his hands to the backs of my thighs, he lifts my legs and brings them over his shoulders.

Beck's fingers dive into me as he gives my pussy a hot, wet, openmouthed kiss that sends shock waves of pleasure zinging through my body.

"Taste so goddamn good too," he mutters in between licks and sucks.

My neck arches and my hands go into his soft hair. "Beck."

"That's right," he praises me. "Say my name."

Lick.

Suck.

Plunge of fingers.

"Beck," I moan, crazed with lust and adoration for this man worshipping between my legs. "Please."

"What do you want, Sela?"

"I want to come," I plead with him.

He pulls his mouth from me for a moment and it causes me to raise my head to look down at him. He gives me a mischievous grin. "Want to come by my mouth or cock?"

I give him a salacious smile back. "Both."

&nb

sp; His teeth flash at me and he growls in appreciation. "Good fucking answer."

Beck then hits my clit hard, pursing his lips around it and sucking while he thrusts two fingers in and out of me. My pulse skyrockets, my hips gyrate in crazy circles attempting for more friction, and then he beats his tongue against me so hard and fast I splinter into a million fragments as my thighs tighten against his head while every muscle in my body trembles in release.

"O-o-o-o-h," I moan as the climax tears through me. "So good, Beck. So, so good."

I'm still trembling when Beck surges up my body, bringing my legs up high as they stay resting on his shoulders. My abdomen contracts inward as he folds me practically in half and then he's driving into me, bottoming out in one hard thrust.

"Goddamn," he grits out as he places both hands on the mattress for leverage. His eyes are glazed with lust but he manages to ask, "You okay?"

I nod, not really able to form coherent words of assent.

"Good, because I am going to fuck you so hard, Sela," he promises darkly as he starts pounding inside of me. "Going to come so deep in that pussy. Mark you as mine. It's my fucking pussy, you go that, baby? Mine."

His words thrill me. Dark, dirty, filthy words that speak to something deep inside of me. Knowing how turned on he is, how possessive of something that should only belong to me but truly doesn't. It's his to do with what he wants and he knows it.

It's purely ironic that after my rape, I always felt dirty...unworthy. It's why the barrier of a condom was more than a protection against pregnancy. It was a way for me to keep the dirt to myself and not taint another unsuspecting soul. While technically and from a purely health perspective, I'm as clean as they come, I always felt nasty when it comes to sex.

But not with Beck.

Not ever with Beck.

With every punch of his hips and every time his balls slap against my bottom, I feel whole and beautiful and completely worthy of what he's giving and taking.

Even as he's fucking me in this moment almost mindless with animalistic need, racing toward release the same as me, he makes me feel pure.

That's something I'm never giving up.

"Are you close?" Beck asks.

"Huh?" I groan as he tunnels deep into me.

"Close, baby. Are you close?"

"I think I am," I pant out as he continues to fuck me almost mercilessly.

"Need to know," he grunts. "Because I am and if you're not, I'm going to pull out and eat your pussy again."

---