Page 13 of Brat Baby (Sugar Life #1, #3)

Emery

I trudge along the path, my arms already aching from the unnatural angle required to carry the bags of leftovers from my pettiness. Which, honestly, I’m feeling a little guilty about.

While getting to try so much food had been fun at the time, sitting in my first-ever rideshare—something I’d figured out how to do while waiting for my first course—my stomach turned to a jumbly mess.

How could I spend his money like that? I opened my messages with him about twenty times, wanting to explain myself, to apologize, to make sure he understood that I didn’t mean to be bad.

But every time, I remembered the way the waitress had looked at me with pity after he hadn’t shown and I locked my phone.

Darcy had been under no obligation to show up to our date. So what if he didn’t actually cancel the reservation? What right did I have to go through with the date with the expectation that he would show up? And then be a petty bitch when he didn’t?

Now, as I walk toward my building, I also have to deal with the consequences of my own actions. These bags have only gotten heavier with every step, which is only made more difficult by the limited number of old-school lantern-looking streetlights that line the path.

I turn the final corner and can blessedly see the stairs that lead up to the front entrance several hundred feet ahead of me. With fall only a few weeks away, the nighttime air has started to bring a chill with it, and I wish that I had brought one of those cute sweaters with me.

Would Darcy have driven me home after our date? Would he have walked me to the door? Would we have kissed on the steps?

Why the fuck am I torturing myself with these dumb questions? Fuck, I just need to—

A very large, warm hand covers my mouth as something small and hard is pressed into my lower back.

My heart plunges into my stomach and back up into my throat so quickly, I stumble before I completely freeze, terror icing my veins. Body completely checked out, my brain shrieks at me to scream, but I can’t. Nothing is working the way it should.

I need to fight, I need to save myself. I need to fucking something , instead of standing here and letting this person do whatever the fuck they want to me.

A nose presses into the side of my neck, and the familiarity of the action tries to jump-start my nervous system, but the panic surging through me is dominating every thought in my brain.

My gaze darts around, looking for someone, anyone, to help me, but I’m fucking alone with this asshole. Great, I can see the headlines in tomorrow’s newspapers:

Female freshman, assaulted and murdered after walking home alone at nine p.m.

Drunk female college student, assaulted on campus while hoarding food.

Scantily dressed woman left for dead by college dorm.

I try to fucking breathe, I really do, but holy shit, it’s like I my lungs are filled with cement. They refuse to inflate. My fingers ache around the handles of the takeout bags, and I have no idea how I’m still holding on to them.

The nose moves, drawing a line up to my ear, before releasing a noisy exhale.

“You kept me waiting, little dove. I told you that you wouldn’t enjoy the consequences. I hope your dinner plans were worth it.”

Xavier.

I try to turn to face him, but his grip on my face tightens, as does the pressure of the hard thing he is pressing into my back. “No.”

My heart yo-yos once again. The backs of my eyes burn. He is so fucking close. He applies even more pressure to my back, forcing me to walk forward and off the path into a gap between the shrubs and trees that line the building.

The second we are behind the greenery, it becomes even darker, and I stumble.

Xavier grunts but doesn’t help me, continuing forward until I’m a couple of feet from the building.

He pulls my face forward until I’m bent over and my forehead is pressed into the rough, cold brick of the building, making my ass stick out.

“Don’t move,” he growls into my ear as he releases my mouth. “You have already ruined my evening. Don’t make me ruin yours.”

“Yes, Daddy,” I manage to whisper, tears clogging my throat. Joke’s on him, because it is definitely ruined now. Fuck. How did I forget to send him pictures tonight? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. All I’d wanted to do was be good for them, and I already fucked it up on the first day.

Now Xavier is here and I’m in trouble.

Whatever is pressing into my back disappears, and then my skirt is raised and tucked into the top of my pink lace thong, because, yes, I did wear some of the lingerie I bought on Friday, in case the evening with Darcy went in the direction I wanted it to.

I stare down at the darkened ground, shame flooding my system as a light turns on and is presumably aimed directly at my ass.

Xavier shifts behind me, and I am fairly certain he is now hunkered down so that his face is in line with ass.

My arms still strain under my bags of food, hanging awkwardly from my shoulders as I bite my lip so that it doesn’t tremble.

His hands grab both of my ass cheeks, giving a firm squeeze before he slides his finger beneath the strip that dips into my ass and slowly runs his finger all the way down to my pussy, removing it from its snug space.

He shifts the entire thing to the side, leaving me completely exposed to his face.

A hand cups over my cheek and the fabric, holding it in place before his thumb unceremoniously slips into my pussy.

I gasp at the intrusion but do as I’m told and don’t move a fucking muscle. To my absolute shock, I am completely turned on right now. There was very little resistance from my body, and it’s taking everything I have to remain perfectly fucking still and not rock on his hand.

With his other hand, Xavier examines the marks he left behind, fingers tracing over the letters—M. I. N. E.

A shiver shimmies down my spine, and I whimper. “Please.”

There is a sharp sting on my ass as a quiet clap echoes between us, a spank right over the mark, making it ache the perfect amount. “You’ve been looking after my mark.”

I suck in several sharp breaths to combat the fire that spikes through me. “It’s starting to heal.” Even I can hear the petulant sound in my voice.

He doesn’t respond to my unasked request for another mark. But what he does say shocks the fuck out of me. “I’m going to eat this asshole now. Do not interrupt me unless absolutely fucking necessary. Use your safe word. Remember, don’t fucking move.”

I—what?

But my confusion evaporates as his hot, wet mouth literally closes over my asshole. He licks and sucks, teeth grazing a little as he is true to his word and eats my hole.

The grip he has on my other ass cheek changes. The thumb remains in my pussy, but he twists his hand until it is between my legs and he is able to use his fingers to play with my clit.

“Oh my god,” I gasp, thighs trembling and core clenching at all the goddamn sensations assaulting me.

His tongue is…urgh. Oh my god, it feels weird… and good. So fucking good. His stubble scratches at my cheeks, and his thumb and fingers are timed with his mouth, everything pushing and pulling.

I could swear I’m burning from the inside out. All my focus is on his mouth and how fucking amazing it feels to have my ass getting tongued. What the fuck even is this? How does it feel so good?

I said no anal, but is this anal? Anal is a hard limit in our contract, right? I can’t remember now. Was it just penetration? Fuck, who gives a fuck? This feels… it’s almost as good as when Hudson and Derek ate my pussy on that first night.

My entire body burns, streaks of heat from my core turning to flares that flow everywhere, all of them slowly contracting as I get closer and closer to the edge.

“Daddy, can I come?” I beg on a moan, because fuck, if he doesn’t stop, there is no way I can hold it back.

He doesn’t respond while continuing to rub my clit and lick my ass. Oh fuck, did his tongue just go inside me?

“Oh shit,” I whisper as I squeeze my eyes shut and try to hold back. “Please, I need to come.”

Xavier still says nothing, instead sucking on my asshole, then thrusting his tongue back in.

A particularly firm rub of his fingers over my clit is the last straw. I can’t hold it back and let out a long, drawn-out moan that I try to keep quiet as my pussy and ass spasm around his finger and tongue.

He continues to lazily thrust in and out of my pussy and to lap at my ass as I ride out my orgasm.

My lungs burn with every breath, and I cry out a little as he removes himself. I stay as he left me, willing my blood to start cycling through my body again so the tingling that has taken over my arms and legs will disappear and I can move.

There is a click and then a near silent sching before I feel cool steel against my hip.

The bite of something sharp is a threat away as the steel slides beneath the waistband of the pink lace.

A short, sharp yank tightens the elastic before it goes very loose and a strip of fabric flutters around my thighs.

I know what he is doing, but I don’t have the energy or will to fight it. I want him to take my panties. I want him to take whatever he wants from me.

He gives the other side the same treatment.

His fingers graze over the crotch before the fabric is taken away. My skirt remains up as he presses his hard, jean-covered cock into my exposed pussy and ass and leans forward.

“Send me my photos on time. If you are late again, the next inspection will be much less private.” He lowers my skirt before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the skin on my shoulder. “If you are good for me, the next time we play in the apartment, I’ll leave a new mark.”