Page 8 of Too Sweet

Kylian assesses me up and down, then shamelessly adjusts his erection.

“Like you want to sink into 834.6 pounds of sprinkles and grind against this wand until you come so hard you see stars.”

I’m on him a second later.

Our kisses are frantic. Desperate and needy. He grips my hip hard, shifting back just enough to work the vibrator between our bodies.

When he turns it on, I moan and hitch one leg around him, trying in vain to get even closer.

“Get in the tub,” he commands against my mouth.

I whine, not wanting to leave him or the source of the heat that’s already building low in my belly.

“Jo.”

He clicks the vibrator off.

I deflate. “Not fair!”

With his hands on my upper arms, he guides me over to the tub. “Be a good girl and do what I say.Now.”

I wiggle my ass against him. “Yes, Daddy.”

Stepping into the tub of sprinkles is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. At first it tickles, but as I settle in, it feels like a million gentle pinpricks. My skin warms instantly as my body reacts to the sensation. It’s not uncomfortable, just wildly foreign. Like all my senses have been turned up. Like I’m primed and extra perceptive to every touch.

My ass doesn’t even touch the porcelain, making me feel like I’m floating on a cloud. I giggle again. I can’t help it. It’s a heady experience, being absolutely sheathed in sugar. The sweet scent wafting up around me is so strong I can practically taste it.

Grinning up at Kylian, I reach for the vibrator. “I don’t know if this is going to work—”

“Oh, it’ll work. I’ve been fantasizing about this for days, baby. Sit back. Relax. Spread your legs and put this right where you need it. I can’t wait to watch you come over and over again, surrounded by sprinkles.”

Chapter 4

Kylian

She’s a vision. The star of every erotic fantasy I’ve ever conjured. The center of my world, the holder of my heart, and the keeper of my peace.

Based on the flush on her neck and chest and the pitch of the moans she’s making, she’s also very close to climaxing. Again.

I’m right there with her, as if my pleasure aims to align itself with hers.

The primal need to mark her—to connect in this moment—urges me forward.

However, every inch of skin from her chin to her toes is submerged in sprinkles and inaccessible to me right now, including her hands.

I can tell by the way she’s curled forward that she’s double-fisting the wand as she grinds it against her core.

“Look at you, baby. Working so hard to make yourself come again. Such a good fucking girl, making a mess with all these sprinkles.”

Surprisingly, my words have the opposite effect of what I intended.

Panting, Jo flops back, all the tension snapping out of her body.

“Daddy,” she whines. “I can’t. It’s too much. There’s too many.”

In fairness, she’s working toward her third orgasm. Her hairline has accumulated a sheen of sweat. I can only imagine the way the little sugar particles are sticking to her body. With a shudder, I force myself to focus.

“You can’t?” I challenge, a clear edge to my voice. “You’re giving up, just like that?”