Mr. M's POV:
I should be furious. I am furious.
This is all entirely ludicrous.
How can one person have such power over another? When did I give her permission to control me? Why do I feel controlled by a simple request?
"....Say yes and nothing will really change between us, I won't change. I want us together officially Mr. M, no more 'enjoying each other' without a set commitment between us."
Her ultimatum is firm, I can tell just from how rigid her muscles are beneath my hands. I rub her sides a bit to get her to relax but it has the opposite affect, I stop immediately.
Damn her. I'll feel like a child, but I just want to scream, "This isn't fair!"
Why do women always want to complicate simple things? Why do people feel the need to label EVERYTHING?
Two options. That's all I have.
I tell her no and she'll leave without looking back. Phoebe isn't the type to beg, but then again neither am I. How the hell have we made it this far?
I tell her yes and- and? What will happen between us? Nash promised not to change when we got married, ten years later I'm standing in my office with another in my arms.
Promises mean nothing to me anymore.
I look into her brown eyes and immediately look away. Apprehension churning in my stomach. I feel her as she lays her head on my chest and hugs me. This feels like a goodbye, I don't want to say that to her. Anyone but her. But....
What if this is just another trap?
I can't take another destructive relationship. I'm not strong enough, no sane person should be.
'But this is Phoebe...my Phoebe...I can give us this chance.'
Can I?
I nod my head without thinking. I'm done with talking now that head is clear.
She can't see my nodding. But that's okay because I can give my answer in more pleasurable ways. I firmly grip Phoebe by her hips and drop her roughly onto my desk. Now I have her undivided attention. Good.
Phoebe opens her mouth, probably to yell at me, so I take the opening and slide my tongue over her bottom teeth. It has the desired affect because almost immediately her mouth clamps shut again.
Taking a step back from her, I analyze her posture with a smirk. It tells me that I won't be taking her without a fight, she wants my effort and I can definitely give her that.
Her ankles are crossed and her arms are slightly up, ready to push me back. What gives away her want is her heavy breathing, and those damned eyes.
How can brown be a boring eye color when it should remind everyone of warm chocolate? The warmth they radiate alone should be worshiped. Vanilla is widely loved and yet people don't seem to know that the vanilla bean is a dark brown. That doesn't change the taste at all, it just changes its perceived color. Phoebe smells faintly of vanilla and I can't help but think it's fitting for our situation.
Instead of immediately going after her again, I loosen my tie. Her breath hitches in her throat. I hide my smile and start unbuttoning my shirt. Every intention on my part is clear, Phoebe isn't a fool, she knows that there is a limited time remaining before I start unbuttoning my pants.
I look up and watch her eyes follow my hands as I slowly strip my shirt off. Underneath is a plain white t-shirt, which I pull over my head. Now Phoebe's just starring at my bare chest and loose tie.
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Sugar Daddy Chronicles
أدب نسائي(Fee-bee) Phoebe was a part time college student. But that was before HE came into her life, Phoebe was a lot of things before HE popped up. She WAS; a virgin a full-time worker at the hotel near her apartment seemingly always late on her rent a...
