My Sugar Daddy With a Twist. The conclusion.

The Conlcusion

“You’re mine, and I’m going to make you come so hard you forget your own name.” 

“I’m going to make you forget that I’m…Responsible for your broken leg”

I can feel it building, the coil of pleasure tightening low in my belly, “I’m closeI, so close”

His fingers press harder against my clitoris, his thrusts becoming erratic, and I shatter, my orgasm crashing over me in waves. I cry out, my body clenching around him, my nails raking down his back, scratching him. He groans, his hips stuttering as he follows me over the edge, his penis pulsing inside me as he comes, his cum filling me in hot, thick spurts.

Slowly, carefully, he lowers my broken leg, his hands gentle as he helps me steady myself on the crutches again. His cum drips down my thigh, a messy, filthy reminder of what we just did.

I should feel embarrassed. Exposed. But all I feel is wanted and … He is the one exposed now.

The air smells of pleasure, my skin damp with sweat, my body limps from the force of my orgasm. Kent’s fingers traced my thigh, possessive even now, his touch lingering where his cum dripped down my skin.

Then… out of nowhere, he pushed me.

A sharp gasp tore from my lips as I stumbled, my crutches clattering to the floor. My broken leg and cast slid against the hardwood, the friction deliciously rough. I caught myself on my hands, one knee pressing into the ground, my breath coming fast.

Kent loomed over me, his eyes dark with something between fury and sexual attraction. "You think you can just walk away from me…on crutches with a broken leg?"

I didn’t answer. Instead, I moved.

My cast dragged as I crawled, the fibreglass scraping the floor, my bare thigh trembling. The cool wood beneath my palms, the slow, deliberate shift of my body every movement was a taunt. I could feel his gaze on me, burning, tracing the curve of my ass, the way my back arched as I reached for the crutches just out of grasp.

"You’re so so sexy if I had to do it again Vivian, I would…," he growled.

I let out a laugh, glancing over my shoulder. "You think I’m beautiful like this?"

His jaw clenched. He took a step closer.

I stretched, fingertips brushing the crutch, my cast sliding again this time with purpose, slow and sensual, like I was savoring the way my body moved even broken. The way it made him watch

“Who is in control today?” I say quietly

And then, I had my crutches. My fingers curled around the grip, and in one not so fluid motion, I pulled myself up, balancing on the crutches like a queen reclaiming her throne.

Kent’s chest rose and he stared at my broken leg at my long black cast. At my breasts "You won’t win." He said

I smiled, slow and knowing while licking my red lips. "I already have won."

Because he was still hard. Because his eyes still drank me in like he wanted to devour me all over again.

And because the recording was already sent to Detective Jones. I turned, the click of my crutches echoing as I walked away, leaving him there, exposed, undone, and so hungry.

But not for long. The police will be here soon.

I will savor every second of his ruin. Someday he would realize who I am…Who was my mother that he knew well years ago.

The policeman and inspector walked in as I stepped outside, the night air kissed my skin. My phone buzzed, a single message from an unknown number:

Standing tall on my crutches, broken leg inches off the ground “Non weight bearing”, I read the message…"You play the victim so well... but we both know you’re the real predator… Now…"

My pulse spiked.  Maybe I am but who the hell was watching? And why did the thought send a thrill straight between my thigh and cast?

I was so wet again.

The end
Did you like this one? I’m new at all this and would love comments…Thanks
Ashley

If you enjoyed this, an upvote really helps 💛

My stories