Fiction: Naughty Sugar Baby (M/F)

Madison tapped her phone awake absentmindedly, expecting nothing more than a casual message from a friend. But the moment she saw the notifications, her stomach lurched.

Daddy: I’m in town. Where are you?

Daddy: I’m at the apartment. It’s empty. Where are you, Madison?

Daddy: Madison.

Her heart pounded, but what truly made her blood run cold was the fourth message—one she had completely missed, sitting unread from yesterday.

Daddy: I’ll be in town tomorrow. Be home.

Her breath caught. Oh, God.

She had missed it. She had been so caught up in making plans with Jason—some boy—that she hadn’t even seen her Sugar Daddy’s message. And now, he was waiting at the apartment, stewing in disappointment and anger, wondering where she was.

“Madison?” Jason’s voice pulled her back to reality. “You okay?”

She forced a tight-lipped smile. “I—I have to go.”

He frowned. “Go? We just ordered dessert—”

“I’m sorry,” she blurted, already grabbing her purse. “Something came up.”

She didn’t wait for his response. She was already halfway out the door.

By the time she reached the apartment—the luxury apartment Daddy paid for—she was breathless, her heels clicking anxiously against the floor as she fumbled for her keys.

She swung the door open and rushed inside.

He was sitting on the couch, one arm stretched lazily across the back, the other holding a heavy tumbler of very expensive whiskey, the kind she wasn't allowed to drink without him.

Madison hesitated in the entranceway, her breath shallow. “Daddy…”

His head turned slowly. “Well,” he said, voice smooth but laced with steel. “Look who finally decided to come home.”

She swallowed hard, going into the living room. “I—I’m so sorry! I didn’t see your message.”

His gaze flicked to her phone, still clutched in her trembling fingers. “Which one?”

Her stomach churned.

He took a slow sip of his drink before setting it down. Then he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, his dark eyes locked onto hers. “Who were you with?”

Madison hesitated, her body going rigid.

His brows lifted, the silence damning. “Well?”

“A friend,” she said weakly. “I came home as soon as I realized.”

His lips twitched—not in amusement, but something closer to disappointment. “A friend?”

She bit her lip.

“A boy.”

It wasn’t a question.

She winced. “It—it wasn’t serious—”

He let out a quiet breath, shaking his head. “I told you to be home, didn’t I?”

She nodded, eyes wide.

“And instead,” he continued, “I fly into town, come to the apartment I pay for, and find it empty.”

Her breath hitched. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“I don’t care what you meant,” he cut her off. “I care about what you did.”

She cast her gaze downward, guilt settling like a weight in her chest. “I’m sorry. I—I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t,” he said, voice cool.

She stood before him, her fingers nervously twisting the strap of her purse, her throat tight as she forced herself to meet his gaze. He let the silence stretch, his gaze sweeping over her in a slow, deliberate study. From the tousled, styled waves of her hair to the perfectly blended contour on her cheeks, down the elegant curve of her little black dress that hugged her body just right—and finally, to the designer heels she had picked out specifically for the night. His fingers tapped idly against his glass before he lifted it to his lips, taking a slow sip.

“Did I pay for all that?” He asked waving in her general direction. His voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the edge beneath it.

Madison’s stomach twisted. She knew better than to lie. “…Yes.”

His brow lifted slightly. “The dress?”

“Yes.”

“The heels?”

She swallowed. “Yes.”

His lips pressed together, his eyes dragging over her again before he continued. “And the hair?”

She hesitated. “I—”

“Hmm?”

She let out a breath. “Yes.”

“The makeup? The expensive creams and treatments?” His gaze was unwavering now.

“…Yes.”

“The personal trainer? The gym membership?”

Madison’s pulse pounded in her ears. “Yes,” she whispered.

The silence stretched between them again, thick and suffocating. He sat back, exhaling slowly, before setting his scotch down with a deliberate clink on the glass table beside him. Then he looked back at her, his expression unreadable.

“So let me get this straight,” he murmured. “You ignored my messages. Left my apartment empty. Went out with some boy—” his voice curled around the word like it was something distasteful—“wearing the dress I bought, the shoes I paid for, with the hair, makeup, and body that I invested in.”

Madison’s throat tightened, shame rising hot up her neck. When he put it like that, it sounded awful.

“I—I just wanted to look pretty,” she whispered.

His jaw tightened, his eyes flashing. “For him?”

She bit her lip, her pulse hammering. “No—for myself”

“Not for me?”

Her lips parted, but she had no answer. No defense. “I wasn’t thinking,” she admitted. “I—I just—”

“You just what?” he pressed.

She swallowed hard. “I just… one night out… I didn’t think it would matter.”

Something in his expression darkened, and she knew, in that moment, that was the wrong thing to say.

His fingers curled in a beckoning motion. “It matters because you were told to be home for me.”

“Yes, Daddy,” she said, her pretty knees knocking, her hands twisting in front of her, her pulse thundering so hard it echoed in her ears. She had screwed up. Big time. She had ignored his messages. Left his apartment sitting empty when he had come all this way to see her. And worst of all? She had dressed up for some boy—the way she always dressed for him.

The realization sat like a heavy stone in her stomach, making her feel small. Foolish.

She risked a glance at him. He was still seated across from her, watching her in that way that made her insides twist. He hadn’t spoken for a long moment, but the weight of his disappointment filled the space between them.

Her breath hitched as fresh shame washed over her. What if this was it? What if she had pushed too far, taken too much for granted? What if he decided she wasn’t worth the trouble?

The thought sent a quiet panic spiraling through her chest.

She squeezed her eyes shut, her breath shuddering as hot tears welled up and slipped down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking, as she went to perch on the couch near him

He didn’t respond.

She sniffled, her fingers tightening around the hem of her dress. “I’m really sorry,” she tried again, her voice barely above a breath. “Please…”

Still, nothing.

A quiet sob slipped from her lips. “Please, Daddy,” she murmured, dropping her head as tears streaked silently down her face. “I don’t want this to be over.”

At that, he finally moved. She heard the soft clink of his glass as he set it down. Heard the quiet shift of his weight as he leaned forward.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice lower now, almost gentle.

She wiped quickly at her cheeks, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

His eyes were unreadable, steady. “You don’t want this to be over?”

She shook her head frantically. “No—please, no. I—I messed up, but I love being yours, I—”

His expression didn’t change, but something in his gaze sharpened, his focus zeroing in on her.

“You are mine,” he murmured. “I paid for you. That’s not the question here, Madison.”

She swallowed hard, her breath trembling.

He exhaled slowly, reaching out, his fingers brushing against her damp cheek.

“The question,” he said, tilting her chin just enough to make her hold his gaze, “is how badly you want to prove it.”

Madison shivered beneath the intensity of his stare, her stomach twisting in both fear and relief.

He hadn’t given up on her.

But that meant she had to make this right.

Her breath was still shaky, but her voice was steady when she answered.

“I’ll do anything.”

His thumb brushed across her cheek, wiping away a stray tear, but his expression remained firm. He wasn’t moved by her crying—at least, not in the way she might have hoped. If anything, the tears seemed to confirm something for him.

“What you deserve,” he said, voice calm, certain, “is a good, hard spanking.”

Madison’s stomach flipped.

She should have expected it—had expected it, in some distant part of her mind—but hearing the words out loud made it real.

Her breath caught, her fingers curling in her lap. A part of her braced for him to continue, to elaborate on just how thoroughly he intended to punish her. But instead, he simply waited, watching her.

And that’s when she realized—he was giving her a choice.

The weight of the moment pressed down on her.

She could push back. Beg for mercy. Try to talk her way out of it.

But what would that say? That she wasn’t really sorry? That she wasn’t willing to prove she belonged to him?

No. That wasn’t an option.

She knew what she had to do.

She straightened her spine, blinking through the last of her tears, and nodded quickly. “Yes, Daddy,” she whispered. “I deserve it.”

His brow lifted slightly, but there was something like approval flickering in his eyes.

“Do you?”

Madison nodded again, more urgently this time. “Yes.” She swallowed, her voice steadier now. “I need to be punished.”

He didn’t continue right away. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, studying her. “Have you ever been spanked before, Madison?”

The question sent a fresh jolt of nerves through her.

She shook her head quickly, her voice barely above a whisper. “No.”

His brow lifted slightly. “Never?”

She swallowed. “Never. Not by anybody.”

For a moment, he said nothing. He just sat there, eyes locked onto hers, considering.

Then, slowly, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Well.” He exhaled, leaning back against the couch. “That explains a lot.”

Madison bit her lip, shame washing over her all over again.

She had never been disciplined before. Never been truly corrected. And now, in this moment, she could feel how deeply she had disappointed him.

But he was offering her something now—something that could fix that.

Her heart pounded. A part of her wanted to shrink back, to hesitate, to fear what was coming.

But she couldn’t.

Not when this was her chance to prove herself.

She sat up straighter, nodding quickly. “I deserve it,” she whispered. “I do need to be punished. Please Daddy. I’ve been a really really bad girl. Please punish me.”

His smirk deepened, but his eyes remained sharp. “Then let’s not waste any more time, hmm?”

Her breath caught as he patted his lap, the invitation clear.

Madison hesitated only a moment.

Her first spanking.

And it would be his to give.

Madison sucked in a breath as she draped herself across his lap, her heart hammering wildly. The position alone was enough to send a jolt of nerves through her. She had never been like this before—never been in this kind of position with anyone.

And yet, here she was.

His strong hand rested lightly on the small of her back, grounding her, holding her in place as he let his other palm smooth over the thin fabric of her scandalously short dress.

“Tsk,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Barely any coverage at all. You really did dress for him, didn’t you?”

Madison’s face burned. “No,” she whispered. “I mean—”

SMACK.

She gasped, jolting forward as his palm met the curve of her backside in a sharp, deliberate stroke.

He hummed. “Lying on top of everything else?” He adjusted his grip on her waist, steadying her. “I think we’ll have to make sure you really feel this, Madison.”

Her fingers curled against the cushion, her breath coming fast as he gave her a moment—just long enough for her to think about what had just happened—before he did it again.

SMACK.

The sting bloomed across her bottom, sharp and immediate.

She sucked in a shaky breath.

SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.

Each slap landed precisely, his palm striking the same sensitive spots, amplifying the heat building beneath the thin material of her dress.

Her toes curled in her heels. She had known it would sting—had braced herself for it—but she hadn’t expected just how much each firm, sure swat would light up her senses.

And yet… that wasn’t the only thing she was feeling.

Beneath the bite of each smack, something unfamiliar stirred. A strange, electric heat that had nothing to do with pain.

Her breath hitched.

She shifted slightly, but his hand pressed down firmly on the small of her back. “Ah-ah. Stay still,” he instructed.

She swallowed hard, nodding quickly even as her body betrayed her.

SMACK.

A whimper slipped from her lips before she could stop it.

He paused. His palm rested warm and heavy against her bottom.

Then, in a low, knowing voice, he murmured, “There we go.”

Madison’s breath was coming in short, trembling gasps now, her skin tingling beneath his touch. The heat in her bottom was nothing compared to the heat unfurling between her legs, something she barely understood—something she shouldn’t be feeling at all.

And then, slowly—excruciatingly slowly—she felt his fingers slip beneath the hem of her dress.

She tensed, her pulse skipping as he began to draw it upward, his fingertips trailing the backs of her thighs as he bared inch after inch of skin. The sensation sent a shiver up her spine, and she had to bite back a whimper as the cool air of the apartment kissed her overheated flesh.

Finally, he pulled the fabric past her waist to reveal her panties.

A scandalous little scrap of black lace, delicate and expensive—designer, of course.

She felt his gaze on them, felt the moment he took them in. Then—

“Did I pay for these too?” His voice was smooth, amused, but with an unmistakable edge.

Madison squeezed her eyes shut. “Yes, Daddy” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

She barely had time to register the sound of lace tearing before the sharp rrrip of fabric sent a shock through her system.

“Daddy!” she squealed, kicking her feet as she felt the ruined panties torn from her body, her bare skin now completely exposed to him. “Those were La Perla! They cost $300!”

A deep, rich laugh rumbled from his chest. “And?” he said, thoroughly unconcerned. “I can afford another pair for you.”

Madison huffed, feeling a fresh wave of embarrassment sweep through her, but before she could protest any further, his warm palm smoothed over the newly bared skin of her bottom.

His touch was firm, possessive, appreciating every dip and curve.

“Look at this,” he murmured, almost to himself, his palm gliding over the luscious swell of her bottom. “Absolutely spectacular.”

Madison shivered as his fingers spread slightly over the heated skin, squeezing just enough to make her feel how thoroughly he was inspecting her.

“High, round, perfectly shaped,” he continued, his voice a mixture of admiration and authority. “The kind of ass that was made to be spanked, Madison.”

A whimper escaped her lips, her nails digging into the couch cushion.

He chuckled softly, his grip tightening just enough to make her squirm. “And so firm,” he mused. “All that work in the gym is paying off. Give your personal trainer a big tip.”

Madison let out a breathless, humiliated laugh. “Yes, Daddy,” she murmured, feeling her skin prickle under his praise.

He hummed approvingly, his fingers tracing the delicious curve of her bottom once more before his palm lifted again.

“Let’s see how it looks in red…”

SMACK.

Madison gasped, her body jolting as the spanking resumed, firmer, sharper, sinking deep into the plush perfection of her spectacular little backside.

SMACK!

A sharp gasp ripped from her throat as his palm met her exposed bottom again with a firm, resounding slap. The sting was immediate, spreading in a hot, throbbing bloom across her delicate skin.

SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.

Each swat landed with deliberate precision, covering every inch of her soft, vulnerable backside. The absence of fabric made all the difference—without the thin barrier of her skirt or ruined lace panties, the spanking felt sharper, hotter, more intimate.

She whimpered, her fingers twisting into the couch cushion, but she didn’t protest. She couldn’t.

Because underneath the fire he was igniting on her skin, there was something deeper, something more powerful. A shivery, helpless ache that had nothing to do with pain.

SMACK!

She let out a little cry, her hips shifting involuntarily.

He caught it immediately.

His free hand pressed down against the small of her back, holding her firmly in place. “Stay still,” he commanded, his voice smooth, unwavering. “You wanted to be punished, didn’t you?”

Madison shuddered, nodding frantically. “Yes, Daddy—”

SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.

Her legs kicked slightly, her toes curling as the burn intensified. Her poor bottom was on fire now, the heat radiating outward, each fresh strike layering over the last, deepening the delicious sting.

She had never experienced anything like this—never known what it felt like to be truly taken in hand.

It hurt. Oh, God, it hurt.

And yet… she was loving it.

Loving the raw, unapologetic dominance in his movements. The way he controlled her, commanded her body, disciplined her with slow, measured force.

She whimpered again, but not in protest.

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Oh,” he mused, his palm smoothing briefly over her swollen, overheated skin. “You’re taking this beautifully, Madison.”

She swallowed thickly, pressing her burning face into the cushion. “I want to be good for you,” she admitted, voice trembling. “I want to show you I belong to you.”

He hummed approvingly, his fingers tracing the red-hot curve of her backside before giving it a light, possessive squeeze.

“You do belong to me,” he murmured. “And I think you’re finally starting to understand what that means.”

Before she could respond—

SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.

A fresh flurry of swats sent her gasping, her body tensing before melting all over again.

SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.

The spanking was relentless now, each stroke deliberate, merciless, perfect.

SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.

By the time he slowed, her bottom was fully reddened, throbbing with heat, her entire body humming with sensation.

She was wrecked. Overwhelmed. Owned.

And yet, as his fingers stroked soothing circles over her trembling skin, all she could think was—

She never wanted this to end.

Madison was trembling, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps as the last echoes of his spanking pulsed through her body. Her bottom was radiating heat, throbbing with the perfect blend of sting and sensation, but she couldn’t bring herself to focus on the pain.

Not when his hands were on her.

He smoothed his palm over her freshly reddened skin, the contrast between the punishment and the soothing touch making her shiver. His fingers traced the curve of her backside, as if admiring his work, and then he gave it a slow, appreciative squeeze.

“Mmm,” he hummed, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Now that is a very pretty red.”

Madison let out a soft, breathy whimper, her hips shifting slightly against his lap as a fresh wave of heat flooded through her—not from the spanking, but from something deeper.

She could feel the way he was looking at her, could sense his satisfaction in the way his fingers lazily traced the edges of her swollen, punished skin.

She squirmed involuntarily, her thighs clenching together as the ache in her bottom was joined by another, more desperate ache between her legs.

He chuckled, low and knowing. His hand lingered on her for a moment longer before giving her another firm squeeze. “I think this color suits you, sweetheart,” he murmured. “In fact… I might have to redden you like this every time I visit from now on.”

Madison’s breath caught. The idea sent a delicious shiver up her spine, her mind already conjuring up images of the next time she’d find herself over his knee, his strong hand teaching her exactly who she belonged to.

She pressed her thighs together, her voice coming out soft, breathless.

“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered. “Please.”

His grip tightened just slightly, his fingers digging into her sore flesh, making her gasp.

“Oh,” he murmured, his voice dark with amusement. “I will, Madison. Believe me.”

Her body shuddered, heat curling low in her stomach.

She had never been spanked before tonight.

And now?

She never wanted to go without it again.

Madison’s breath hitched as his fingers trailed lower, grazing the tender curve where her burning bottom met her trembling thighs. She was still lying limp over his lap, her body raw and exposed, her skin flushed with heat—not just from the spanking, but from the aching, needy sensation pooling between her legs.

She whimpered softly as his touch wandered further, teasing, exploring. He hadn’t even truly touched her yet, and already her body was betraying her, thighs clenching in anticipation, her slickness undeniable.

He noticed. Of course, he noticed.

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, his fingers brushing just where she was throbbing for him. “Would you listen to yourself?”

Madison let out a soft, breathy moan, pressing her face into the couch cushion in humiliation. She couldn’t listen to herself—couldn’t bear the desperate, needy sounds spilling from her lips, couldn’t believe how much she wanted this.

But he could.

And he was savoring it.

His fingers dragged lazily through her wetness, the touch light, teasing, making her hips jolt instinctively. His grip tightened on her waist, holding her still as she squirmed, her legs trembling.

“Already soaked,” he mused, as if genuinely fascinated. “I think my little girl liked her spanking.”

Madison let out a strangled whimper. “I—I don’t—”

SMACK.

A sharp slap landed right over her sensitive, swollen folds, and she cried out, her body jolting in shock at the mix of pain and pleasure.

“Careful, Madison,” he murmured, his fingers now rubbing slow, tormenting circles against her slick heat. “Lying won’t get you anywhere with me.”

She sobbed out a breath, her hips pressing helplessly into his touch. She was past denial now. Past pretending she wasn’t shivering with want, past pretending she wasn’t melting for him.

He chuckled again, the sound dark, knowing. His fingers pressed deeper, stroking where she needed him most, making her whole body sing.

“There’s my good girl,” he murmured. “Learning your place already.”

Madison let out a desperate little moan, her hands grasping at the couch as she gave in, her body surrendering completely to the pleasure, to him.

Because she was his.

His touch. His control. His dominance.

She needed more. She needed him.

“Please,” she whimpered, her voice high and desperate. “Please, Daddy…”

He hummed, his fingers slowing to an unbearable tease. “Please what, sweetheart?”

She let out a soft, frustrated sob, pressing herself against his hand, aching, wanting. “Please take me to bed,” she whispered. “I need you… I need you so bad.”

He exhaled slowly, his fingers stilling against her, resting right where she was throbbing, aching for him. He could feel her trembling, could feel how ready she was for him, how her body was melting beneath his touch, yielding to him completely.

And yet, he made her wait.

Made her suffer for it.

“You need me,” he murmured, trailing his fingers back up, smoothing them over the curve of her reddened backside. “Do you, Madison?”

She nodded frantically, gripping the couch beneath her. “Yes, Daddy—please. I’ll be good, I promise—*”

He chuckled, slow and indulgent, his palm pressing down firmly against the heat of her punished skin, making her feel the full weight of his control.

“You will be good,” he murmured. “And you will remember this lesson.”

Madison shivered, her stomach tightening, anticipation curling through her like fire.

And then—finally—he shifted, gripping her waist and lifting her effortlessly from his lap. She let out a startled gasp as he guided her up onto unsteady legs, turning her to face him.

His eyes were dark, unreadable, his expression calm—completely in control, as always.

Madison's heart raced as she stood before him, her body trembling with need and anticipation. His eyes trailed over her, taking in every inch of her body. She felt utterly claimed by him, marked as his, and the thought sent a shiver down her spine.

He rose from the couch, towering over her, and she felt small, vulnerable, and completely at his mercy.

"Bedroom," he commanded, his voice low and rough with desire.

Madison nodded, turning on shaky legs and leading him towards her bedroom. Her hips swayed with each step, the movement causing the skirt of her tiny dress to brush against her sensitive, reddened bottom, reminding her of his spanking.

As they entered the room, he closed the door behind them, the click of the lock echoing in the quiet space. 

Madison stood at the foot of the bed, her heart pounding as she awaited his next instruction. He stepped closer, his body pressing against hers, his hands gripping her hips and pulling her flush against him. She could feel his hardness through his pants, hot and insistent against her belly, and she whimpered, her hips canting forward of their own accord.

He leaned down, his breath hot against her ear. "You want this?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Madison nodded frantically, her hands coming up to grip his shoulders, her nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. "Yes, Daddy," she breathed. "Please, I need you."

He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. "You need me," he repeated, his hands sliding down to grip her bottom, squeezing the tender flesh and making her gasp. "And I need you, Madison. I need to be inside you, to feel you clenching around me as you come undone."

Madison whimpered, her hips rocking against his, seeking more friction, more contact, more of him. He pulled back slightly, his hands coming up to grip the neckline of her dress.

With a sharp tug, he tore the fabric, shredding it like tissue paper and exposing her body to his hungry gaze. Madison gasped, her hands coming up to cover herself instinctively, but he caught her wrists, pulling them away and pinning them to her sides. "None of that," he chided, his eyes dark with lust. "I want to see you. All of you."

“My dress… Daddy!”

“You wore it for some boy. It’s history now. Buy another just like it. One he’s never laid his eyes on.”

Madison shivered, her body trembling under his intense scrutiny. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and so unbelievably turned on.

He released her wrists, his hands coming up to cup her breasts, his thumbs stroking over her hardened nipples. Madison moaned, her back arching, pushing herself deeper into his touch. He leaned down, his mouth closing over one sensitive peak, his tongue laving the stiff bud before sucking it deep into his mouth.

Madison cried out, her hands coming up to grip his hair, holding him to her as he worked her nipple with his mouth, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core.

He released her with a wet pop, blowing softly on the wet, sensitized flesh before turning his attention to her other breast, giving it the same treatment. Madison was panting now, her hips rocking restlessly, seeking more, needing more.

He pulled back, his hands coming down to grip her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh.

"On the bed," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "Hands and knees."

Madison nodded, climbing onto the bed, her body trembling with anticipation. She knelt on the soft comforter, her hands planted firmly in front of her, her back arched, presenting herself to him.

She felt him move behind her, his hands coming up to grip her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. She heard the rustle of fabric, the clink of his belt buckle, and the unzipping of pants as he prepared himself. And then he was there, the blunt head of his cock pressing against her entrance, hot and insistent. Madison whimpered, her hips pushing back, seeking more of him.

He chuckled, his hands gripping her hips, holding her still. "Patience, sweetheart," he chided, his voice rough with desire. And then he pushed forward, sinking deep into her in one smooth thrust.

Madison cried out, her back arching, her walls clenching around him as he stretched her, filled her, completed her. He stilled, giving her a moment to adjust to his size, his thickness, his presence inside her. And then he began to move, his hips rocking against hers, his cock dragging against her sensitive walls with each thrust.

Madison moaned, her hips rocking back to meet his, her body trembling with each powerful thrust. He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back, his breath hot against her ear. "You feel so good," he groaned, his hips snapping against hers. "So tight, so hot, so perfect."

Madison whimpered, her walls clenching around him, her body trembling on the edge of release. He reached around, his fingers finding her clit, stroking the sensitive bud in time with his thrusts. Madison cried out, her hips bucking, her body trembling as she hurtled towards the edge.

"Come for me," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "Come on my cock, Madison. Let me feel you."

And with that, Madison flew apart, her body clenching around him, her hips bucking, her cries echoing off the walls as she came beneath him. He followed soon after, his hips snapping against hers, his cock throbbing inside her as he spilled himself deep within her clenching walls.

They collapsed together, a tangle of sweat-slicked limbs and heaving breaths, their bodies still joined, still connected. Madison felt him press a soft kiss to her shoulder, his lips lingering on her sweat-dampened skin. "You're perfect," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "Absolutely perfect, Madison."

Madison smiled, her eyes fluttering closed as she basked in the warmth of his praise, his affection, his love. She was his, completely and utterly his, and she wouldn't have it any other way.