“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Candy.”
I paused the caressing on her knee and looked at her. “Your real name, Princess.”
She swallowed, her slender throat bobbing. “We’re not allowed to share our real name with customers.”
“I’ll pay you five times the amount I promised.”
Her pupils widened and lips parted. “J-just for my name?”
I nodded, cupping her cheek and repeating my question, “I’ll pay you anything you want for your name and your time, Princess.”
She chuckled dryly, and I pinched her cheek lightly, mock-glaring at her beautiful face.
“My time? For what?”
She was getting comfortable in my lap, and as much as I loved the warm press of her ass on my thigh, it was a lot closer to my crotch, where I would sport a bulge soon. I was a man. I could not hide my desire for much longer, even though I was curious about her. I wanted her. More than sex.
“Be my sweet obedient pet, Princess,” I said, running my knuckles down the soft arch of her jaw to curl a blond tendril of her hair around my finger. “Kneel for me and spend time with me. I’ll provide for you.”
“W-what?”
Up close, I could see freckles on her nose and cheeks. I wanted to kiss and cherish every one of them.
“I want to be your Sugar Daddy, Princess.”
Her big doe eyes blinked at me.
“I want to buy you for tonight,” I whispered, wanting to own her.
Calm down. You’ll scare her.
I waited patiently for her reply, even though she was tense in my arms. I kept my hold light in case she wanted to get some space or leave. I would respect her wish—until I could come up with a better offer to buy her time.
She didn’t know it yet, but she was mine.My pet.My Princess.
Like hell I was going to let her go.
“Are you married?” She asked, surprising me with the question.
“I’m single,” I replied honestly. “Never been married and no kids.” I always use protection.
Her eyes narrowed, shifting in my lap. I clenched my hand. The last thing I wanted was for her to think I’m a creep because I got a boner from a pretty girl sitting on my lap.
“What do you do?” She asked, eyeing the leather bag. “Prosecutor?”
“I’m a lawyer.”
“And your age?”
I chuckled, squeezing her waist, and answered, “I’m forty-four, Princess.”
And I knew she was at least twenty-one since the owner of the club didn’t allow anyone younger than the drinking age to work there.
“Oh,” she whispered, a red flush creeping up her pale skin to her cheeks. So adorable. “I-I’m twenty-four.”
I leaned to grab the closed water bottle from the table, her hot breath fanning against my neck, making it harder to control myself. She smelled like a cupcake with vanilla frosting. Innocent and playful.
