Sugar Daddy Chronicles

30. Peaceful Slumber

MR. M's POV:

Phoebe passes out as soon as her head hits the pillow. She doesn't even have enough energy to get underneath the sheets.

I chuckle to myself as I wipe her off and tuck her in. Maybe I shouldn't have pushed her as hard as I did. Considering the fact that she just lost her virginity recently- to me.

How did I not know that Phoebe was a virgin? Then again she certainly didn't act like a virgin. But by that standard, how is a virgin supposed to act? Meek? Scared of their sexuality?

I should've been gentle with her.

Plans are in the works to rectify my mistake of just taking her in my office, but they're a bit ruined after the spontaneous sex we just had.

How can I apologize for ravaging her on my desk then turn around and fuck her during a party? A party that I'm supposed to be hosting but instead I'm missing most of it.

'Not that I'm really complaining.' I shrug off my minor concerns and start to doze off with Phoebe in my arms. I feel drained, literally and figuratively, I can't even guess how Phoebe will feel when she wakes up.

'We'll take a bath for her to soak those sore muscles when she comes out of her coma...'  I plan.

A smirk curls my lip from just thinking about how Phoebe got sore in the first place. Next time I might just test her flexibility and pain threshold. Those delicious brown nipples of hers are begging to be pinched, sucked, and licked. Maybe in that order.

Phoebe likes my dominant side, and I do love being in command during foreplay.

And during sex. And while driving. And just in general.

I sigh contentedly, 'The things we can do together..'

My ears pick up the sound of someone stomping their way down the hall. This person isn't stopping either, almost like they know exactly where they're heading.

Odd.

Knocking soon ensues on my bedroom door but I choose to ignore it. I'm busy enjoying my after sex high with a beautiful woman in my arms. 

Besides, if it's business, people know to call me first before approaching. And they definitely shouldn't be knocking on any doors in my home to just speak to me. There's a party going on for party's sake. Enjoy the day off, I am.

No one here is stupid enough to cause major incidents and if they are I'll handle them.

Later.

I'm startled out of my slumbering state when the intruder starts banging on my door. I hadn't even realized I started drifting off.

Phoebe is shocked somewhat awake but only to make her annoyance known, she's not up to moving anywhere, anytime soon. I fixate on Phoebe's face as she tries to wake up only for it to fail miserably, poor thing can't even open her eyes. I kiss her shoulder in reassurance and she falls back into her sleep-like coma with a small smile.

I stare at her peaceful face only to remember the reason why I'm awake to witness this.

There's an ignorant party goer banging on my damn door.

I carefully slide out of my bed and look around for our clothes only to remember that they're still in the bathroom down the hall. I chuckle softly in remembrance only for it to stop when I notice the door handle jiggling up and down. This person is now trying to open my door. My mood goes from appeased to murderous.

What could be so important? I have a couple of half baths downstairs if people need them. Nothing's on fire, the alarms would've been going off. I don't hear anyone screaming.  And my phone- where's my phone? Oh right.

Left pant pocket. Of my pants. That are currently on the ground. In my hall bathroom.

I walk to one of my dressers and throw on some pants. Then I open another drawer and throw on a shirt, it's a bit tight so I make a mental note to buy a larger size when I go shopping next.

The bastard is now doing a banging/door knob rattling combo. If I'm not appeased with this persons explanation of their intrusion, I might just soothe my irritation and knock their lights out. Phoebe isn't the type that abhors violence and even if she did, right now I don't think there's much that'll wake her up.

I unlock the door and swing it open. I know from experience that my face is a mask of neutral fury. My face doesn't give me away but my eyes do. Many have tried replicating my expression with very little success. My eyes widen when I see the intruder.

I shouldn't be surprised by who's at my door.

But I am.

I haven't seen her since we signed the papers. She hasn't changed much from what I can tell.

But it's interesting, I used to describe her hair as the color of dark cherry wood- now it just looks like a raw soil. Rich and full of life but not a temptation for my senses. I don't want to run my fingers through it or marvel at its soft texture anymore.

Her eyes look the same as ever but they don't draw me in like they used to, one look into them and I would be lost. They were my beacon home, I spent many a day evaluating my measure as a man with those eyes. Now I could care less about how she sees me.

Ivory skin glows against the harsh florescent lighting. I remember us being wrapped up in each other for hours just touching. We were so mesmerized with each other, everything became something to marvel at together. Her scent is just as sweet as I remember.

She stands tall in front of me, with her head held high and her shoulders back. Her body has lost some of its adipose only to be replaced by muscle. It looks good. She is Aphrodite embodied, except now I have the taste of chocolate on my tongue and crave it instead.

As we all grow and learn, we must come to understand adaptability. What one lover wants, another may not. And the unexpected can become one of your greatest pleasures.

I've grown spoiled these last couple of months without even knowing it.

Instead of pulling hair, I grab onto hips. I don't slap ass anymore, instead I get a firm grip from the admirable amount presented. Simple cocoa butter intoxicates my senses over perfumes and other lotions. Even simple habits have changed.

I don't kiss first, I bite.

And my lover enjoys it.

There's absolutely nothing wrong with the woman standing before me. But I'm not the same man she once knew. My pleasures have changed and adapted to my new unexpected.

I finish my evaluation just as she finishes hers. Has she come to the same conclusion?

Standing at my door with her hands on her hips, is my ex wife. Her eyes show destruction but the smile her mask wears could give me a tooth ache.

'What the hell could she possibly want now?' 

AN: Short. Simple. Sweet. I've rewritten the chapter because my first draft just didn't feel right.