#beyoursbbfic

You pulled up to your place in record time. You didn’t bother using your house keys, just barged through the unlocked front door to face the burly man leaning against your kitchen counter, his feet and arms crossed loosely. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you asked, throwing your bag down so hard, your phone flew out of the side pocket and clattered loudly onto the floor, the harsh sound echoing off the walls adding to your surprise.

“Shit,” you muttered, noticing the haphazard cracks over the screen. You quickly picked up your phone and placed it on the dining table. Dammit, the one time you didn’t have a screen protector and it completely shattered. 

“You betta’ watch ya mouth, luv,” Butcher said slowly walking towards you. “Or I’ll fill it with something and watch it for you.” 

Chest to chest, you stared up at him for a couple seconds, not the least bit intimidated by the older man. In fact, though you didn’t want it to, your stomach fluttered at the invitation. 

“Why are you here?” you asked again. “This isn’t our arrangement.”

Part of you wanted to tell him off, argue that he couldn’t just waltz in here whenever he wanted and demand you. That’s why you arrived a little hot-headed. Because if he knew he could do that, if he knew you really had no boundaries when it came to him, that you were hanging on by a thread to maintain a facade of control over the stipulations of this relationship, then you had zero leverage, and there was no stopping what you would allow him to do to you.

Butcher smirked his signature look as he placed a calloused hand against your neck with his thumb on your cheek and held your face close to his. 

“And that’s exactly our problem, luv. Been too long since I’ve arranged your body how I want.” 

He stepped into you, his hand flying down to lift one of your legs and hook it around his hip, forcing your own hips to widen. His lips crashed into yours, more teeth and tongue than actual kissing and you staggered backwards from the impact. Butcher’s other hand supported your lower back as he took advantage of you being off balance to push you against the nearest wall.

A dull thud made you dizzy as you tried to recall the last time you’d seen Butcher. It had been a bit unexpected when you met a love interest who moved your relationship along quickly, and pressed you to make a decision: quit being a sugar baby, or quit being a girlfriend. It made sense they had asked for that; other things in life had transitioned too. You finished your second degree. You got a real job, with a salary, benefits, and a retirement package. You moved out of your parents’ place and into this apartment yourself. You didn’t need the money from sugaring anymore to survive. 

But you did like it. And even more than you liked the money, the desire for something you weren’t supposed to have was thrilling. 

You couldn’t give up Billy Butcher. It was too difficult for you to even think of breaking off the arrangement you had — to never see him again, to never touch him again, to never experience the wicked pleasure he’d send coursing through your veins again. So you didn't even try to quit, just changed the terms. Discrete meet ups became secret chats, and wads of cash became private bank transfers. Although you couldn’t feel his body literally, you still got to have a part of him. You still experienced sexual gratification with each other, just in different creative ways. Teasing took a whole new, dangerous form. It could go on for days, sometimes a week, until you, more often than not, would finally crack and send a lewd video of yourself in the shower, wet and desperate, the hot water pouring over your smooth skin, drowning out your groans. On occasion you’d use the removable shower head as a vibrator on your clit to really put on a show for him, and he always rewarded you generously with a familiar ping to your checking account and sometimes a short video in return, a hastily taken one of his dick in hand, seed spilling over his fingers and dripping down to his wrist. 

Even when that love interest ended as quickly as it started, you didn’t change the routine with Billy. You wanted more than anything to see him in person again but the physical distance an online-only arrangement created between you two felt safer. You knew in your heart being a sugar baby for that man was risky. You thought about him all the time. It was obsession. It had gone too far already. But there was a relentless hunger that probed at you, a craving that ate at your insides for his strong arms to hold you up, pin you down, manhandle you in any way he wanted; for his filthy words to degrade you, then praise you, then challenge you, all in that commanding tone of his; and finally for his thick cock to fill your tight wet pussy, pumping in and out of you so roughly you completely lose control until you’re screaming and he’s painting your walls with hot, sticky cum. You simply loved Butcher fucking your brains out. 

The abrupt increase in pressure of his hard bulge into your center yanked you out of your thoughts. You opened your eyes you hadn’t remembered closing and looked down at the length straining through his jeans. 

“Already forgot what he looks like in person?” Billy chuckled lowly. 

He wasted no time dropping your leg down and using both his hands to attack his belt. You bit your lip in anticipation, but Butcher wasn’t going to allow you to enjoy the show. With one hand, he grabbed your hair, forcing you down to your knees while the other wrestled his pants halfway down his thighs. 

You tried not to moan at the sight of his hard member springing free from his boxers. You slowly slid your fingers up and down the hot, heavy flesh, cupping and squeezing a couple times in other areas for good measure. 

“You better pay me,” you sassed him, even while admiring it.  

“Don’t act like that’s what ya care about, darlin’,” he shot back. “And don’t fuck aroun’. Only action I got for months was my own hand ‘cause of you.” 

“Yes, Daddy,” you obeyed. You felt his tip twitch at his name as your lips enveloped him. 

He grunted as your tongue teased the head and underside of his shaft. With satisfaction, you tasted his salty precum leaking. Your moan sent a vibration down as you sucked him in deeper and added a hand to stroke him from the base. 

“Oi!” Butcher exclaimed. “I told ya not to fuck around.” 

You felt hands weave into your hair and pull you back. Without warning, he thrust into your mouth so fast you almost choked. You reached for his waist to hold onto to steady yourself. 

“You can take it, luv,” he encouraged. “I know you can.”

You nodded, loving how he coaxed you into being his play thing. You wanted nothing more at this moment. Months of video and phone sex could never make up for this sensation. The urge to please and pleasure him coursed through you, straight down to your warm cunt. 

He briefly squeezed one of your hands in his. “Tap me twice to stop.” 

The way you looked up at him then, mouth full of his cock, eyes darkening with lust, and desperate to satisfy, almost made him bust right there. 

He took a deep breath and with both hands steadying your head, fucked your face with such ferocity, you thought you’d black out. Sloppy wet sounds from your mouth against his length echoed off the kitchen walls as drool dribbled messily down your chin. Tears shimmered at the corners of your eyes as his dick slammed into the back of your throat over and over again. 

“Tha’s it,” he muttered, watching you struggle for air. “Atta girl, ya taking Daddy so well.” 

Your heat throbbed from the praise and you hummed appreciatively. You enjoyed the way his tall frame towered over you, using you, slutting you out, but your senses were fading fast as you grew lightheaded. You were unsure how much longer you could last. You just needed a second to get one solid inhale but the man was relentless. 

“Fuck—” you gasped finally, using both hands to force him away, his dick releasing from your mouth with a pop. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, embarrassed, catching your breath. 

Butcher was quick to adjust his pants and bring you up to your feet, supporting your waist. “Did amazing f’me, sweetheart,” he said, giving you a slow, deep kiss. 

He separated and held your chin, a serious look in his eyes. “I told ya t—”

You shook your head. “I didn’t want to stop,” you clarified, still a little breathless. “I still don’t.”

He regarded you carefully for a moment, then grinned smugly. “Good. ‘Cause we’re not even fucking close to being done.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oi. Morning sunshine,” he mumbled into your hair, his hand already cupping between your legs.

You giggled at how that got his attention. “Morning, Billy.”

“When’d you put these on?” he complained softly, playing with the waistband of your bottoms.

“When I got up in the middle of the night.”

If you thought Butcher’s regular deep voice was sexy, you were wholly unprepared to face this gravelly tone as he woke up. Especially when it was demanding your naked body again. 

“Well fucking take ‘em off, will ya?” 

Billy hardly gave you a moment to comply before shoving his hand in your underwear. He immediately found your clit, but his touch was gentle, and worked tantalizingly slow, tracing lazy circles. Your legs didn’t need much coaxing to open up as Billy eagerly pushed his own thigh between them and hooked yours around it while planting soft kisses to your neck. His beard tickled your jawline, and you sighed contentedly, melting into the sensation with a slight turn of your head toward him. You closed your eyes.

If this was how snug morning sex with Billy could be, you hoped he would let you linger more frequently. You guessed being half asleep was why his demeanor had taken a sharp left turn and a whole 180 flip to be so…calm. Not that you ever minded his roughness. But this right now was a different experience, and it was nice. You were used to trying to help Butcher relax as much as possible during your visits, but there is only so many times a guy can fuck the stress out of his system before needing to face his stressors head-on, like a well-adjusted adult. You knew an unstable, emotionally unavailable man when you saw one; Butcher didn’t have time for that. His mind was always preoccupied, his actions always in a hustle to return to whatever was demanding his attention before you arrived. Hence, why you were surprised he wasn’t already fucking you into the mattress and sending you on your way. 

Instead, Billy’s fingers continued to tease your slick entrance delicately; it was almost unbelievable they were the same fingers that brought you to a searing climax some hours ago. 

“Even first thing in the morning, so wet and ready,” Billy whispered in your ear.

You could hear the smirk in his voice, driving you to push your hips against him to address your growing need for more friction. But Billy seemed satisfied taking his time playing with you, his breathing even as his lips ghosted across the smooth skin of your shoulder. 

A cross between a groan and a whimper slipped off your tongue. You were getting impatient already. “I need more, Daddy.”

“Need more what, luv?” Billy took hardly a second to push your underwear farther down your legs until it was off, and run his hand back up your bare skin.

“More of you,” you answered, reaching behind to grab his increasingly hard length. Hot and heavy in your palm, you started to touch him too, rubbing slowly from base to tip. 

“Oh, you’ll get more, baby.”

You inhaled sharply. Billy rarely called you baby. Shit, you thought. Since when had he picked up on the effect that word had on you when it was uttered by him? You could give less of a shit when your other sugar daddies called you the pet name. But Billy dropping it so casually right now while he toyed with your arousal? You were in for it this morning.

“My baby can be such a greedy girl,” he chuckled.

My baby. My. Baby. My.

This time you visibly shivered, your shoulders rattling against his chest, but you tried to cover it up by twisting your head back at the same time to steal a kiss from his lips. He allowed it, nipping at your lower lip, then removed his arm from under you and propped himself up on it. Butcher was at the perfect level now to hover right above your ear. 

“Did ya know that’s why I say you’re my favorite?” 

His fingers were back on your clit, the pressure still light, but he quickened his pace. 

“Why?” you asked, dumbly, his teasing clearly too distracting for your mind to keep up with the conversation, as well as provide any stimulation for him. Your hand on his length had already slowed to a pathetic, arrhythmic rate. You blushed at the realization when he — rather politely — removed your useless hand from his crotch and placed it under his own to touch yourself with as he continued his ministrations on your wetting pussy. 

“Because you’re greedy, luv. And I know it’s not for my money.” 

A pitifully needy noise slipped out from deep in your throat as Billy’s mouth connected to the soft spot under your ear, tongue flicking at the lobe, before he bit it — harder than you anticipated. 

“You get that everywhere, with however many daddies you have.” 

You drew in a deep breath in an attempt to steady your loudly beating heart. Was there a tinge of spite in his voice? You didn’t have time to analyze. Billy flipped you around to face him, swiftly replacing the hands on your core with his length dragging through your folds. You gasped, gripping at his shoulders, trying not to stare down at the delicious sight of his big hand around his even bigger member, its head leaking precum into your slit. 

“Nah, I know,” Billy growled. Your eyes snapped up to meet his dark, lust-filled gaze. “You’re just greedy for my cock.”

You shrieked at the sudden intrusion, then swore at him. Finally he had dipped into your dripping cunt. Except this fucker switched back to using his fingers.

“Billy— Billy, please,” you cried out, not even sure what you were begging for. You were greedy for his cock, yes. You were just as desperate for your fucking release. Also, you wanted to wipe that smug smile off his handsome face. 

“Let me hear you,” he insisted, two digits pushing in and out of your center. “Tell me, why are you my favorite fuck?”

You willed your mind and mouth to cooperate in forming sentences. “Because I’m greedy.”

The quick response earned you a third digit stretching you out, causing you to bite down on your lip.

“For…?”

Again, you forced yourself to concentrate, despite the lewd noises echoing below you and the feeling of climax in the pit of your stomach hungry to break free. 

“For your cock,” you breathed out. “I’m so greedy for your cock.”

Billy curled his fingers to hit that spot you loved, and you felt your tether to reality loosen. 

“So sweet of you to say, darlin’.” The stillness in his tone matched the precision of his palm now rubbing tight circles on your clit. "Is that what you want now? You want my cock in your tight little pussy?"

Your head drooped forward, thudding against his firm chest, your hands still clawing at his arms for some sense of stability while you grinded down on him, desperately chasing your high. He was stringing you out for all you were worth and you were so, so close, you didn’t care how pathetic you sounded. "Yes, yes! Please— I want it so bad,” you panted.

“Next time, baby, look at me when you speak. Maybe then you'll get exactly what you want.”

With one last stroke of his hand, your orgasm hit hard, much more intense than the two last night combined, and twice as pleasurable. You saw stars with your eyes sealed shut while your pussy clenched with a vice grip around Billy, as strong as your nails dug into his skin. He made you the most writhing, sweaty mess you’d been in months, yet you didn’t — couldn’t — even make a sound, sans the quiet gushing of your juices thoroughly coating him.

You had no idea how many minutes passed before you came back down to Earth in Butcher’s arms and opened your eyes to see him peering down at you gingerly. He pecked your forehead, and you did the same to his neck, collarbone, and chest.

“Fuck, I’m glad you stayed last night, luv.”

“Me too,” you squeaked out.

“You alrigh’?” Billy asked, wiping the tears that had formed at the corners of your eyes.

You nodded, then laughed. “Pretty sure I blacked out.”

“Thought so, too,” he replied, a small, satisfied grin appearing. 

You rolled your eyes and playfully pushed him away. Then for the first time all morning, you got a good look at him. His thick, dark brown hair could definitely be characterized as a bed head, and you aimlessly combed through it a few times. Your gaze drifted downwards to the red scratches you had just gifted him, and you gently brushed over them with the pad of your thumb. A little farther down you carefully studied the still-fresh bruises and past-lingering scars across his broad torso. 

Your turn to inquire. “Are you alright?”

“Never better,” Billy said, a little too quickly.

“I mean from last night.” You traced an imaginary line connecting the marks on his body, to make your point clear. “What happened?”

Butcher shifted his body, but his face remained hardened. “Even MM needs a reminder every once in a while. Captain’s gotta run a tight ship,” he said matter-of-factly. “Job’s stressful, night didn’t go as planned, he took it out on me, but he knows when I’m right.”

You nodded, as if deliberately sidestepping the question about his injuries to explain the one part of his night you were present for was an acceptable enough answer. However, after a restful night’s sleep and an active morning that left you plenty clear-headed, you felt a bit more bold. You didn’t care if it wasn’t a sugar baby’s place to know his job. If he wasn’t ready to discuss the elephant in the room this second, you were at least going to let him know he wouldn’t get away with avoiding it for long.

“Fine, if you want to dance around it. You don’t have to tell me right now why you were gone four hours longer than you expected, or came back with this,” you nudged his taped up hand, “or that,” you gestured toward the semi-automatic on the table, “but at the very least, you should introduce me to your colleagues.”

The flashback of you laying on the bed, thankfully fully clothed, when they stormed in last night flashed through your memory. “You know, the guys who weren’t sure that this is legal,” you added. “Want them to know it’s all good.”

There was a beat of silence, until Billy relented, and you were genuinely surprised at the lack of pushback. “Fine.” 

With his hand on your hip, he rolled you over onto your other side, back into a spooning position, with your ass pulled against him. 

Billy Butcher was hardly your first sugar daddy. You were pretty accustomed to the lifestyle by now and its variations. You had met men from all walks of life who all wanted companionship and intimacy in different forms. Most enjoyed regularly scheduled dates with you a couple times per month, one took you on trips as a travel buddy, and others were more casual acquaintances, like Billy, who would randomly reach out whenever his schedule allowed, and you wouldn’t hear from him again until the next time.

Butcher re-emerged 10 minutes later from the bathroom, wearing only boxers with a towel draped around his neck. It appeared tiny against his broad shoulders and expansive chest. As you stared at his bare, freckled complexion under his taut muscular frame, a similar feeling from earlier electrified your core. You found yourself rising swiftly from your seat and striding toward him confidently. 

He sat on the edge of the bed as he saw you coming, his big hands enveloping your waist as soon as you stood in front of him between his legs. You rested your hands on the towel atop his shoulders and gazed down, studying his hazel eyes, the crinkles in his forehead, his damp hair slicked back in a way that made you consider how smoothly your fingers could run through it. 

“What you starin’ for? C’mere,” Billy grumbled. 

He jerked your body towards himself, one hand flying up to grab the back of your neck as his mouth latched onto the soft skin near your collarbone. You gasped at the contact and steadied yourself from being thrown off balance by gripping the towel and pulling him even closer. Billy sucked a mark into your flesh before you could register the moan that escaped your lips. 

He always made hasty work of you, even the first time after this arrangement had been agreed upon, when nerves were still fresh. Since then, there had been at least half a dozen dates you’ve met for some quick fun, each one well worth your time despite being planned on short notice. In the moment, you couldn’t put your finger on how he turned you on so fast with a simple touch or kiss in the same places you’d been touched and kissed by numerous men before him. 

All you knew was that every little thing he did and every little thing about him made you fucking insatiable. 

Maybe it was his body type — thick, the perfect proportion between dad bod and DILF. His strength was surprising — hidden under that trench coat he wore everywhere — but he wasn’t so ripped that his chest and stomach felt uncomfortably rigid when he was naked against you. His height alone gave you a rush whenever you saw how he towered over others, or barely fit through doorways, or otherwise made his physical presence more domineering than his personality already granted. You wanted nothing more than the overbearing weight of his body to pin you down under him with the sole intent of consuming all of you. 

Or maybe it was his casual cockiness — the fact that he knew you were putty in his hands, that he could do anything he wanted to you, and you would practically thank him. Of course, there was always a give and take of control in a sugar arrangement, but with Billy, you didn’t mind if all he did was take. The time and dedication it took you to curate a personality that was a delicate balance of being submissive enough to appease older men, yet assertive enough to remind them of your expectations to consistently hold their end of the deal, all went out the window when it came to Billy. The money was the last thing on your mind. One flash of that wicked smirk, and you melted on the spot. You instantly relinquished what little control, if any, you had over this affair.

Or it could be — and this was the biggest reason you thought accounted for your deep, inexplicable attraction to him — that you never knew when you’d get to see him again. It could be days, weeks, or months. He told you upfront his life was hectic, which you accepted, but the sporadic nature of your get-togethers was reminiscent of that toxic ex from college who you let in every time he rolled around suggesting you two could still work out to be great friends with benefits. You couldn't help the sex was intoxicating. Unlike with your ex though, you never had any regrets after Billy fucked you. Your friends would laugh at how badly he left you dickmatized: always satisfied and always craving more, never one without the other. Unsure of how long you’d have to go without, you savored the hours spent in between his legs under motel sheets, basking in his lustful gaze, absorbing the timbre of his thick accent that you’d most certainly replay over and over in your mind later. 

You tilted your head back to give Billy more room to maneuver as he continued a trail of kisses and bites up your neck, before switching to the other side. You ignored the itch of his scratchy beard to focus on his hands which were seemingly pinching you everywhere at once — your hips, ass, chest — yet still not touching where you needed him most. In an effort to not get lost in the haze of lust so soon, you threw off the towel from his shoulders and dove your face into his own neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses against it. The heat from the shower rose off Butcher’s skin and he smelled deliciously woodsy. 

“I missed you, Daddy,” you breathed on his collar bone.

Billy groaned, grabbing your chin with one hand and attacking your mouth in a rough, tongue-heavy kiss. He pulled back for a second — too soon for your liking — dragging out his teeth against your bottom lip. Still holding your face, his darkening pupils peered into yours. 

“Daddy missed you too.” 

The glint in his eyes made your breath hitch. It was subtle, but no reaction of yours eluded him. The corner of his mouth turned up just slightly, and you barely swallowed a gulp before you felt yourself being twisted and your back hit the bed with a low thump. Billy’s tongue once again slid between your lips in an instant while his fingers tangled in your hair. You linked your hands behind his neck and did the same, pushing your tongue into his mouth with the intent to taste every bit of him while tugging at his brown locks.

At this point, you were so thoroughly wet, you were certain you had soaked through your leggings, and possibly his underwear too. With Billy on top of you, his length was starting to peek through his boxers. Feeling his hard-on against your thigh suddenly reminded you who was getting paid to do what here. You hoped he didn't notice how your face grew hotter with embarrassment at how much his attention distracted you, while you dipped a hand between your bodies and freed his thick cock all the way. Billy groaned against your mouth and let you provide a few glorious pumps before pushing you back even farther onto the bed covers and pulling up the waistband of his underwear. 

He answered your surprised expression with a hungry look. “I want to taste you first.”

You nodded and sighed in anticipation as he yanked down your leggings and panties, but instead of taking them all the way off, he left them bunched around your ankles, and ducked his head in between your legs, raising your knees onto his shoulders so he was fully trapped under you. His hands caressed your bare thighs, easing them open wider. He dipped his head down to suck on your clit before licking a stripe down and back up your pussy. 

You watched him keenly as he worked his tongue through your folds, his eyes meeting yours every so often to gauge your response. His hazel irises were stunningly gorgeous this close up, and gentle — more of a calming green tone than an impatient gray. He always looked like he genuinely enjoyed pleasuring you. Although you assumed you were far from the only woman in his life, it didn’t matter right now. With his tongue working magic circling around your clit and his low moans signaling he was relishing lapping up your juices, you allowed yourself to feel special being the current focus of his admiration. You closed your eyes now and ran your hands through his hair, concentrating on the sensations building in your core.

Once Billy got you rising, there were only two scenarios of what would happen next: he’d either, more commonly, string you out until you were scream-begging for release, or if he was feeling unusually nice, like tonight, he’d waste no time in finishing you off. So you hummed your approval when you felt a finger prod your entrance, and eagerly bucked your hips into his face when a second digit promptly followed. 

“That’s it, luv,” Billy said as he stroked your inner walls, slowly at first, then picking up the pace as your grip on his hair tightened and your ankles twisted across further behind his neck to hold him in place. Between his mouth swirling more kisses along your sensitive bud and his steady finger-fucking, he was utterly devouring you. “You’re so fucking delicious.”

Your breathing quickened. “Fuck, don’t stop, please.”

Billy knew you were reaching your limit for physical stimulation, and that his words would bring you all the rest of the way to the edge. 

“You look so fuckin’ hot right now, cunt dripping for me.” Billy paused his movement, causing you to open your eyes in time to catch him sucking your wetness clean off his fingers before plunging them into you once more and immediately curling to find that sweet spot that drove you insane. 

“Please,” you whimpered, “I’m so close.” The tidal wave threatening to crash that was your nearing orgasm continued to grow in the pit of your stomach. 

“Then come, darlin’, let me feel you come hard on my fingers. You’re fuckin’ gorgeous when you do.”

With his free hand, Billy reached up to fondle your chest under your shirt, his warm palm enveloping your breast, thumb tweaking your nipple. You arched your back into his touch, craving him still to be impossibly closer as you moaned his name. 

“So fucking tight, you know this pussy’s my favorite.”

With his final praise, your body convulsed, your walls squeezing tightly around his fingers, but Billy didn’t let up for a second. 

“Fuck—” you gasped. “Daddy—”

You didn’t even recognize the noises that spilled out of you, nor were you able to hear more of his flattery as your orgasm wracked through your senses, multiple mini waves washing over you until they finally tapered off. You opened your eyes that had been sealed shut to find Butcher grinning smugly, licking his lips. 

“Feel good, luv?” he asked, knowing you had no words nor energy to adequately express your satisfaction; all you could do was nod as you came down from your high. 

Billy started to rearrange your bodies, releasing himself from your tangled legs to undress you completely in preparation for your second round, but stopped at the sound of his phone vibrating on the table with several texts. You saw a thought flash across his face as he debated checking it for a split second, but when it started ringing, he stalked over, looking disgruntled. 

“This better be fuckin’ rich if you’re bothering me right now,” he answered.

Butcher was turned away from you as he listened to whoever was on the other end of the call, but you thought you saw his shoulder muscles tense ever so slightly before his next reply.

“Alrite, for fuck’s sake, calm down. Be there in 15 minutes,” he responded, then ended the call. 

“Work?” you asked, not that you had any idea what his job was anyways. It was a bit of an unspoken rule to not discuss what made a sugar daddy in the first place. They tended to be private with that information. You usually assumed they were high on the corporate ladder or an investor in some big technology company, though Billy had a pretty distinct appearance from that type of man, with his numerous Hawaiian print shirts. You were curious what he did, but never crossed that boundary to inquire. 

He grunted an affirmative. “If I’m not back in an hour, go ahead and leave,” he said, nodding towards the envelope stuffed with cash on the nightstand. “Don’t want to keep you waiting.” 

He threw on jeans and a plain black sweater that hugged his arms, instead of his signature outfit. You fixed your clothes as well, then repositioned yourself against the pillows, fiddling with the TV remote. Billy sat down on the edge next to you as he tied his shoes.

“But if I do come back and you’re here,” his voice was a low growl as he suddenly leaned forward to occupy your space. Your eyes locked with his. “I’m going to fuck that tight wet cunt of yours ‘til I fill you up with my cum.” His hand came up to gently caress your cheek. “You’d like that, wouldn’t ya?” 

As much as he had just worn you out, the prospect of his dick doing the same was definitely something you looked forward to. You swallowed as you nodded. 

He cocked an eyebrow.

“Yes, Daddy,” you corrected yourself. 

“I’m going to get us another room,” the tall, skinny man announced awkwardly. “Come with me, Frenchie.” The shortest man nodded, took a moment to shift his gaze between you and Billy, then back to meet your eyes in a gentle glance as if he wanted to say something, but instead, he darted out quickly. 

“Un-fucking-believable. This where you  been fucking off to, Butcher?” the man who was left asked, glaring at Billy. “How fucking old is she, by the way?”

“She’s a fucking consenting adult so mind your fucking business,” Billy shot back.

“I would, if your business, like maybe the fucking plan tonight, didn’t always end up fucked up.”

Billy had been staring off at the far end of the room, but now turned toward his associate. He took one, slow, menacing step forward, squaring up chest to chest with the man, who was honestly built like a truck. Billy was obviously huge, but this guy’s biceps alone were bigger than your head. Billy’s gray eyes were piercing and stone cold, which you’d never seen before. They never broke contact with the pair of brown eyes across from him. You held your breath waiting for the first swing that never came. 

Billy’s voice was low and sounded angry, yet also eerily calm when he spoke. 

“You lot are the ones who called me for help. The fucking plan tonight was me doing my fucking best to clean up your mess. So I can fuck off where ever I want with whoever I want because I’m not the one who needs a fucking babysitter. Next time you get in trouble when you go off on your own, MM, call Janine’s nanny.”

The man’s jaw was clenched so tight as he glared at Billy, you thought it would pop. After the longest silent minute you ever had to sit through passed, he shook his head, turning to you. “I’m sorry we scared you. I’m just pissed at this asshole.” With a final angry scowl thrown in Billy’s direction, the last mystery guy pivoted to exit. 

As abruptly as the room had been filled, it had emptied. The distance between Billy and you felt like miles in that small, cramped room, alone. You checked the time on the digital clock on the nightstand and did the mental math of how many hours you’d been asleep. You didn’t even remember falling asleep, but from your estimate, you calculated Billy had been gone for five hours. Whether you wanted to find out what happened in those five hours, you weren't sure. 

You didn’t move a muscle, and neither did he as he sat against the table, arms crossed over his chest with one hand holding his bearded chin. His body was tense, his face hardened and unreadable. His eyes stared out in front of him, deep in thought. The silence hung heavy like the humid summer air in a New York City alleyway.

You felt confused, but mostly scared. Your heart was pounding in your ears from shock, your breathing was shallow and uneven as if you were recovering from a run, and the tension held throughout your body, culminating in your chest, was almost painful. Yet you couldn’t tell if you were scared of him or for him. It leaned toward the latter.

“That was work?” Your voice came out smaller than you wanted.

Billy straightened up slowly, making eye contact with you for the first time since he’d returned. 

“ ‘Fraid so, luv.” 

That already sounded like the end of the conversation. 

Billy moved to sit at the foot of the bed and started undressing, kicking off his shoes first. You scooted up so you were sitting against the pillows again and hugged your knees into your chest. It was cold because the air conditioning had been running when you accidentally fell asleep, but you didn’t want to get under the covers in case that crossed a line. 

You didn’t normally stay the night and sleep with Billy; actually, it had only happened once, when he hit you up on such a whim, you both arrived at the hotel at the same time. The front desk staff only gave a couple weird looks when you two checked in, but Billy being his usual, completely unfazed self helped you ignore any awkwardness you felt. He had appeared a bit disheveled that night, but it was nothing compared to how he seemed right now. You didn’t even have sex; all he did was sleep next to you, one arm wrapped around your waist. He stirred slightly every time you reached for the TV remote or shifted to a more comfortable position, but in the morning when he unceremoniously handed you your payment, he mentioned it was the best sleep he’d gotten in a long while. 

“How’d you get here?” Billy asked as he took the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head. 

Your voice was a little stronger, but still quiet. “I drove.”

He nodded absentmindedly. “Offer still stands. You don’t needa stay.”

“It’s okay. It’s late. I’d rather not drive at this time.” 

He stood to remove his jeans. 

“Unless you rather I go,” you added, quickly. Maybe he wanted to be alone after whatever the hell he went through with his coworkers. 

“Don’t matter to me,” he replied plainly, shrugging and bending his arms at the elbow, palms facing up as he walked to the bathroom. 

This time, Billy stayed in there longer, which made you feel like the amount of time spent waiting with your fifty burning questions you assumed he wouldn’t answer anyways was more than twenty minutes. He went straight for the bed when he came out and untucked the covers on his side to crawl under right next to you. The mattress springs creaked under his weight as he sank in slowly on his back, trying not to wince. After his second shower of the night, he had patched himself up with several bandaids and medical tape wrapped around a couple fingers and his left wrist.

Before you had the chance to stand and wash up in the bathroom yourself, Billy rested his hand against your thigh down by your knee. You immediately relaxed the muscles you didn’t notice were still tense. 

“I know you probably have a million questions. I can’t answer ‘em.”

You looked at him understandingly, as if it was totally acceptable to be kept in the dark in regards to the whereabouts of a man whose BFG-50 was still pointing in your general direction, but at least he was straightforward. 

“You were never meant to know,” he added. 

Now that made you furrow your brows. Know what? You literally didn’t know anything about his life because he’s never told you anything. You and Billy were not close. Your irregular meetings meant you didn’t have a connection built with him like you did with other sugar daddies you saw frequently. Sure, you were madly attracted to him, borderline obsessed, but you were far from friends sharing secrets. The nature of your arrangement was always business, and said business was the epitome of “get that bread, get that head, then leave.” It was work you enjoyed, but the opportunity for meaningful conversation was severely limited. 

Billy’s hand slid up your leg and you stiffened again. He slowed, but kept traveling up past your hip to the middle of your back, turning his body onto his side closer to you, his other hand wrapping around your stomach, until you realized he was simply pulling you into a hug. You tucked yourself under his bearded chin and inhaled his scent off his bare chest, his fuzzy hairs tickling your nose.

Now that his adrenaline levels were down, his naturally rough voice was a tad softer. “You shouldn’t be scared of me.”

He spoke in a way that made you think he was not saying to stop your emotions, but externally processing the full realization of how the guys’ surprise entrance and his argument with his buddy affected you.

“Not scared of you,” you explained. “I was concerned for you.”

Billy’s chest rumbled with a chuckle. “Earlier you thought MM might’ve killed me right then and there? Not a chance, darlin’.”

You shook your head. Being witness to angry men sizing each other up can be terrifying, yes, but you hesitated telling him the truth about how you were still unsettled by their bounty-hunters-who-got-badly-beat look. 

“You're stiff as a board, luv,” he commented, gently separating you both and bringing one hand to lift your chin to look at him. It was true, you still hadn’t fully relaxed at any point since he’d been back.

Except at this moment — when his lips connected to yours. And you melted. 

It was probably the most tender kiss Billy had ever given you, but it didn’t stay that way for long. His tongue started it first, slowly going deeper into your mouth every time he took a breath, but it was your hands that gripped him tighter until your legs became tangled and your hips grinded together. You loved a makeout session that forced you to lose all your senses to where you could only handle hearing, taste, and touch. With your eyes closed, your sight disappears, and since your nose has to concentrate on helping your lungs obtain oxygen, you’re not really focused on smelling. But the sound, taste, and feeling of Billy in your arms is enough to overwhelm you. The longer you go at it, the heavier both of your breathing becomes, interspersed with short gasps and moans, the sloppier your taste buds get in exploring every centimeter of the other’s mouth, and the more desperate your hands are to tug, squeeze, and mold to the shape of your partner’s best assets. 

You didn’t usually take your time kissing either, maybe because you typically met on a time crunch, or you were just extremely horny around each other, so you tended to skip to the main event pretty quickly. But you got the sense that because of the night’s earlier situation, Billy wanted to slow down to make sure your head was in an okay space before proceeding, or not. You appreciated that; it was a gentlemanly move. You made sure he knew you were ready for more by rolling on top of him, straddling his hips, and grinding down against his hardening cock, all while keeping your fingers interlocked behind his neck and your lips mashed onto his. Billy responded eagerly, his fingertips gliding across the soft, smooth skin of your back, and creeping underneath your shirt to unhook your bra. He didn’t even bother to remove any of your top layers before feeling up your chest. You refrained from any wanton noises while he kneaded your breasts, but you did bite his lower lip a little extra hard when he teased your nipples. 

When you finally separated, the shift of your bodies made you well aware of the wetness in your underwear, and you were practically panting, your hands still roaming his torso because they couldn't decide whether to grip his muscular back, shoulders, or arms. 

“The other offer from earlier,” Billy said, his hands sliding down to your ass, giving it a squeeze, “also still stands.”

Catching your breath, you were so nervous of sounding utterly gone already without even being naked, all you could do was nod.

“That a yes? Want me to fuck you ‘til you’re screaming my name, princess?”

“God yes,” you almost moaned. “Please, Daddy.” 

You were pretty sure he could hear the urgency in your voice, but you made it crystal clear how badly you needed him by cupping the imprint of his dick through his boxers. Billy grunted in response, and in less than two seconds, he flipped you both over and discarded your leggings and panties carelessly out of the way. Now you were both playing with each other — you stroking his length while any number of his fingers rubbed your clit and teased your folds. 

“It’s more than wet down here, luv; you’re soaked,” he chuckled against your neck, his hot breath hitting your ear. 

It made you shiver, but at the same time, you were burning up, so you whipped off your shirt and bra. He wasted no time diving in to suck one of your nipples to a hardened peak. When he did the same to its twin, you finally gave in to the loud moan that had been gathering in your throat. Billy released his mouth with a pop and gazed down at you. 

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he said, his eyes hungrily raking over your nude figure before he stood to finally take off his one article of clothing and retrieve a condom.

“That cock block of a call was bloody inconvenient,” Billy muttered as he rolled on the latex and lined himself up to your entrance. “Can’t wait to feel this sweet fucking pussy.”

His last word was punctuated by him sliding in fast and deep. Even though you watched him disappear inside you, you were still caught by surprise, evident in your eyes rolling back into your skull while your mouth formed a silent “O.”

Billy was so goddamn huge and he knew it. 

“Somethin’ tells me your other daddies ain’t cuttin’ it,” he smirked. He didn’t give you any time to adjust, just grabbed your hips and set the tenacious tempo he wanted.

“They don’t fuck me like this,” you admitted through heavy breaths, reaching to bring him closer. Your hands settled on his lower back and he leaned forward, his arms moving to either side of your head to prop himself up above you. 

“Like what?” 

You knew what he wanted you to say. Like I’m a slut. But you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction so soon, even if it was true and you loved it. Your ability to form a coherent response was waning rapidly from his hips pounding into you anyways. The rhythmic slapping of his skin against yours made your brain go numb. 

“Like what, darlin’?” Billy repeated. His right thumb swiped against your lower lip, ready to press into your mouth, while he pulled out and stopped, barely leaving his tip in you. The sudden emptiness brought you out of your daze. You opened your half lidded eyes to find his dark pupils peering down at you. 

“Like—like you use me.”

“‘Course I do; what else are ya for?” he snarled. 

His hand trailed down, fingers surrounding your neck, squeezing it just enough to hold you down to resume his relentless pace, sinking in deeper and deeper with every thrust. 

All your sugar daddies “used” you so to speak, and you obviously used them for money. But with Billy, it never felt like you were fulfilling an obligation to the bit. It was almost natural to sink into the mindset of being nothing but a tool for his pleasure. It was easy because there was something so, so hot about laying spread open for him, allowing him to fuck you any way he wanted, and not caring how rough he was. Knowing you would be left to find bruises and deal with sore legs for the next few days after taking his cock excited you in the most feral, animalistic way. 

You let your body go limp and closed your eyes to focus on the sensation of Billy’s dick continuing to stretch you out while he growled more filth disguised as praise in your ear. You were so distracted by his voice urging you to be a good little slut and let your wet cunt come all over his cock because you sounded so pretty moaning his name, you didn’t notice him lick two of his fingers and send them down between your bodies. If you weren't already laying down, the zap of pleasure that shot straight through your stomach from him circling your clit would have made your knees buckle. You were almost embarrassed at how fast your pussy clenched, though you knew it was just a compliment to Billy. 

“Don’t be shy, luv,” he chided, as if he was reading your mind. 

You gasped as your climax continued to build with each delicious stroke of his hips. The friction was like fire against your nerves, so close to setting your whole body ablaze. Billy was breathing hard now too, sweat beading at his brow. The thumping of the bed against the wall had long been ignored, but now was completely drowned out by Billy’s grunts and groans of how good you felt around him. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Like your cunt was made to fit my cock.”

That elicited a loud, unrestrained moan from you. “Daddy,” you whimpered. It was futile to try to hold out longer. Your body craved release. “I’m gona—fuck.” 

Your body seized and your mind went blank as pure ecstasy washed over you. The chant of his name filled the space and you wrapped your legs around his waist, sending him impossibly deeper. Billy groaned feeling your pussy contract around him, his climax following close behind. With a last couple thrusts, he shuddered to a stop as he milked himself dry. 

Chest to chest, with Billy’s head resting next to yours on the pillow, you slowly came down from your high, unintentionally clenching his softening length as your breathing steadied. 

He gave your sweaty forehead a quick peck as he rose up, removing his hand from your throat. You had honestly forgotten it was there, so engrossed in how your lower half had been responding to him. Billy carefully slipped out of you and took care of the condom while you adjusted the bed sheets.

Then he approached you with his wallet and held out two bills. “For staying the night,” he offered. 

You shook your head while waving them off with a flip of your hand, not even looking at the number on them. You hadn’t checked the original amount he left in the envelope on the nightstand, but you figured he probably already paid more than what would be equivalent to the actual amount of hours you spent interacting. 

“Special deal; cuddles are free, tonight only,” you smiled softly. 

Billy returned a small, amused smile. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Oh, I’m very comfortable,” you sighed, opening up the blankets to let him under, and settling into the crook of his arm.