#greedy

You tried to pick what you thought sounded the least expensive, but Jack knew your game. He insisted that you get what you really wanted. After some back and forth, and him calling you a brat, you settled on a chicken scampi dish. The food came out quickly, the wine was flowing, and the company was great. You abandoned your feelings of guilt and allowed yourself to enjoy the evening. 

Once dinner was finished, Jack ordered a slice of the restaurant’s “award-winning” mousse cake to share, but neither of you were very impressed with it. Over dessert, he broke some news. 

“I have a gift for you,” he said. He reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a small black card. He reached across the table and placed it in front of you. It was a black American Express, his black American Express, but instead of his name on the bottom, it had yours. 

“What is this?” you asked. 

“My credit card. Well, your credit card.”

You looked up at him incredulously and laughed slightly. “I can’t accept this!”

He furrowed his brows, looking genuinely confused. “Why not? I buy you stuff all the time. This isn’t any different than when I send you money for things.”

You scoffed. “Yes, it is! When you send me money, you’re giving me permission to use it. This is different.”

He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table. “You always have permission to use my money, baby. You know that.” Knowing you could use his money and actually doing so were two different things. 

“You spend enough money on me already,” you say before taking a long sip of wine, finding yourself suddenly thirsty. 

“Baby,” he said firmly. You had no choice but to look over at him. “I’m fifty years old, I’m single, and I live alone. What the hell else do I have to spend my money on?”

You knew Jack well, but there were some aspects of his life that he didn’t share with you. He worked a high-stress job that was extremely emotionally taxing and required long hours. The last thing he wanted to do in his time off was talk about it. All you needed to know was that it was important, and it paid well. Outside of that, you knew Jack inside and out. 

The two of you had feelings about the term “Sugar Daddy,” but it was the most accurate way to describe your dynamic. You went on dates and had sex, but you weren’t exclusive. You were free to date other people. Besides, Jack wasn’t paying you to be his girlfriend; he just liked to spoil you and wanted company in return. 

“I just feel bad!” 

“Feel bad about what, baby? Feel bad that I want to buy you nice things? Feel bad that you’re a gorgeous woman who deserves to wear clothes that complement you? Feel bad that you get to live in a nice house while all of your friends are broke post-grads? Don’t feel bad for having good things.” Jack’s charm and sweet talk were dangerous, you knew that, but it didn’t stop you from falling for it every time. 

“Fine, fine,” you gave in. There was no winning an argument with Jack anyway. You took your wallet out of your purse and slipped the card into the back of it. It was out of sight enough to discourage you from using it too much. 

“I know my hearing isn’t as good as it used to be,” he started, leaning back in his chair, “but I haven’t heard a single ‘thank you, daddy,’ all night.” You rolled your eyes at the smirk on his face and decided that a little bratting never hurt. You stood up from your chair, walked around to his side of the table, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“Thank you, Daddy,” you whispered in his ear. Before you could move to sit back down, he grabbed hold of your waist. 

“Thank me for what?” he asked in his own hushed tone. You swallowed. 

“Thank you for dinner, and thank you for the credit card.” He released his hold on you and patted your hip, urging you back to your seat. 

“You’re welcome, baby,” he smiled. “Wanna know something?” You inched forward, eager to listen. “I love to make you happy, and I like making sure you don’t have to worry about money. But on top of all that, it turns me on so fucking much when you spend my money.”

Your eyes widen at his confession, mostly at the volume he was speaking with rather than the words. 

“It does?” you ask. 

“God, baby,” he groaned quietly. “Seeing you in a dress that I bought you, with your nails and hair that I paid for. Knowing that you get to have all of these experiences because of me. That’s fucking hot.”

Jack’s voice had more of an edge to it than it did previously. Suddenly, you were looking around for the waiter, wanting to flag him down to bring the check. 

The car Jack ordered to bring you to his house was thankfully quick. His hand had been inching up your thigh during the ride, and when you reached his front door, you were wound so tight it wouldn’t take much for you to snap. Instead of carrying you right to bed like you wanted, Jack took his time taking his jacket off and putting his keys away. He then wandered into the kitchen and took out a bottle of amber liquor. Instead of pouring it into a glass, he took a swig right from the bottle. 

“Want some?” he asked. You wrinkled your nose and shook your head. “Oh, I forgot,” he smirked as he walked over to you. “My spoiled girl only drinks cocktails made from top-shelf shit now. She doesn’t want to slum it down here with her Daddy anymore.”

He put the bottle down on the counter, then placed both hands on your hips. He sighs at the feeling of your skin moving against the satin material. You snaked your arms around his neck and pulled him closer so your faces were mere inches away. 

“You could make me a drink,” you said quietly. 

“You’re too much of a lightweight, baby. Want to make sure you’re clear-headed,” he smirked. 

“Oh yeah?” you asked, stepping closer. “What are you planning?”

Jack’s hand traveled up your neck gently and stopped at your chin to hold your face. “You’re gonna go to the bedroom and put on the little set I have laid out for you. Got that?” You nod eagerly.

He let you go and encouraged you down the hall with a slap to your ass. You gave him a coy look over your shoulder before you disappeared around the corner. 

You closed the door of the large bedroom behind you, then turned to find the black lace set he mentioned. You were wearing another pretty set he bought you under your dress, but you wanted to follow Jack’s orders. You shed your dress and underwear, then pulled on the soft boyshorts and babydoll top. Once ready, you sat back on the plush pillows and waited for Jack, who didn’t take much longer to appear. 

He whistled when he saw you looking just as beautiful as he imagined. Instead of immediately getting started, he tested your patience. You waited while Jack got comfortable, taking off his tie, watch, and prosthetic before meeting you in the middle of the bed. 

“Looks beautiful on you, baby,” he muttered as he felt the smooth skin of your legs. You spread them and allowed him to move between, closer to your core. 

“Need you, Jack,” you whispered, trailing your hand over his hard, clothed chest. 

“Need me, huh?” he asked, smirking. “What do you need?” He leaned in to pepper kisses over your neck, starting from your ear and working his way down your breasts. His fingers hooked in the waistband of your panties, but he didn’t pull them down yet. You let out a quiet moan at the drag of Jack’s stubble over the sensitive skin of your chest. “Talk to me, beautiful. Tell me what you want.”

“You know what I want,” you huff. He raised his eyebrows at you slightly. 

“Not a mind reader, baby,” he countered, though the look in his eyes suggested he did know; he was just being stubborn. 

You arched your back up to meet his touch, urging him to slip his hands underneath the lingerie to touch you where you need. Instead of following your lead, he pulled away. 

“If you don’t tell me, you don’t get. You know how this works.” His voice was still gentle, but you could tell his frustration was rising a bit. 

You looked up at him with a pout, “Want your fingers, Daddy.”

The furrow between his brows smoothed, and his soft smile was back. That pout always melted him. He pulled your bottoms off to expose your pussy, but he stopped himself from diving in. Instead, he switched your position so he was lying back on the pillows, and you were supported by his chest. When you settled in, he reached his right hand over your body and began to gently tease you. This position was one of his favorites, because he had prime access to your ear. He loved to kiss, nibble, and suck on the sensitive spot behind it that made you squirm. 

Jack took his time exploring your wet folds, stroking gently over them to pull quiet whines from your throat. 

“Missed this pussy, baby,” he said, voice low. It had been a while since he’d seen you last, and you could tell from the increasingly frequent texts that he was getting needy. He may have been the rough, older man who was paying for your lifestyle, but you had him smitten for you. 

You turned your head to look back at him, but the angle was odd, and you couldn’t see him well. You saw enough to tell that he had his bottom lip held firmly between his teeth as he slowly circled your clit in time with grinding his clothed cock on your lower back. 

“Want them inside?” he asked, not able to wait for you to initiate. Now that he had a taste, he was feeling even more desperate for the rest. You nodded, and he pushed a finger inside you. When he didn’t find the resistance he was expecting, he slid another one alongside the first. Jack didn’t just finger you to work you open; he loved drawing pleasure from you with his hands. He loved every whine, mewl, and sigh he got you to make. You were his angel, and he loved turning you into putty in his hands. 

His left hand joined your clit as the fingers inside of you curled. You arched your back away from his chest, but you didn’t have far to go. You were firmly in Jack’s hold, and the only way you could get up was if he let you. He let you squirm and buck your hips, loving that you showed him the effects of your pleasure. He wrung two orgasms out of you like that, back to back, that left you shaking and with a slightly cloudy mind. Jack started rubbing your clit again, aiming for a third orgasm, before you stopped him.

“Fuck me, Jack,” you said, voice painfully needy. That made him freeze.

“What was that?” he asked, though he heard you loud and clear.

“Fuck me, Jack!” you whined again. He pulled his fingers out of you suddenly, which had you sitting up and looking at him, confused.

“You’re feeling awfully bratty tonight, huh, baby?” he asked. “Since when do you give the orders?” You blinked back at him. You must have had differing ideas of what being bratty was, because you didn’t think you did anything wrong.

“I was just telling you what I wanted. That’s what you want me to do, right?” you ask. Even to your own years, you sounded bratty that time.

Jack huffed a humorless laugh. He unbuttoned his shirt and threw it over the side of the bed, then undid his pants and got rid of them, along with his underwear. You watched him undress from your spot further down the bed, not attempting to help. 

“Fine then, princess. If baby wants dick, that’s what she’ll get,” he said, gesturing to his newly exposed cock that lay against his stomach. 

“I don’t wanna be on top,” you said, attempting your signature pout again. . 

“I don’t care,” he shot back without missing a beat. “Only good girls get what they want.”

You didn’t bother fighting him anymore. You threw a leg over his waist and straddled his cock, lining it up with your entrance. You slid down with ease, though you still took it slow. Jack didn’t rush you, but his courtesy was over once you were fully seated. 

“Feeling awfully bratty tonight, princess,” he said. “Even after Daddy was so good to you. What’s the matter, baby? You don’t love me anymore?” His own faux-pout had no right being as attractive as it was. Jack had always preferred things rougher, and the two of you had a well-established dynamic. He was a kind, generous man, but he was the boss. He liked the challenge of brat taming, especially when it gave him a reason to indulge in your shared, harder kinks. 

“I still love you,” you choked out as he thrust his hips up into you. Jack didn’t mean romantic love, though if he were open to it, you would have been all too eager to make it official. Falling for your sugar daddy was stupid, and you knew it wouldn’t work out, but you could dream. Jack fueled those fantasies when he played games like this. 

“I don’t know, baby. I think you’re gettin’ tired of me,” he said as he firmly grabbed your hips. “And here I was thinking about getting you a new car.” He smirked when your eyes widened, but you realized from the look on his face that he was bluffing. 

“You’re mean,” you whined. Your head hung forward between your shoulder blades as you endured Jack’s relentless pace. He knew that you weren’t going to ride him, not the way he wanted, so he was doing all the work from the bottom. 

“Yeah, I am. So mean. What kind of monster buys his girl pretty things so he can show her off at fancy restaurants?” You weren’t usually talkative in bed; instead, you would rather listen to Jack run his mouth. It was an exciting change to have you play along like this. He reached up to grab your face, squishing your cheeks together and puckering your lips in a humiliating way that made you weak. “Something must’ve gotten into you tonight. Maybe you boss around those boys you’re fucking, but you know Daddy doesn’t let that shit slide.”

You try to turn away from his gaze, but his hold doesn’t budge. “There aren’t any boys,” you mumble. Jack wouldn’t care if there were, not really. He just likes to use your open relationship as fodder for his dirty talk. 

Jack hummed, not convinced. “Nah, who am I kidding? No boy could satisfy my greedy girl. Bet it’s another old guy like me. Can’t get enough, can you, baby? Is that why your little pussy isn’t gripping me like it usually does? Am I fucking some guy’s sloppy seconds?”

You knew Jack was just talking shit like he always did, but it had enough truth to it that you wondered if he somehow found out. You thought back to Robby, your hot neighbor, whom you finally got with earlier that day. You showered, washing any trace of Robby’s spit or deodorant away before your date with Jack. Jack was too perceptive for his own good, even if he didn’t know it.

You rolled your hips frantically against Jack’s, seeking friction on your clit that you couldn’t quite get. Usually, he would help you out, but he was enjoying your show of desperate writhing. He released his hold on your cheeks to slip two of his fingers, the ones that were inside your pussy, into your mouth. 

“Do you call him Daddy, too, princess? I bet he doesn’t treat you as well as I do.” 

Jack was right, Robby didn’t treat you as well. There weren’t any presents waiting for you, and he only made you cum once instead of aiming for double digits like Jack does, but he was still good to you. He made you feel special and cared about. Maybe you were greedy. 

“Daddy,” you moaned around his fingers. 

“What’s that, baby? Can’t understand you with your mouth full like that,” he teased. Jack was really good at playing the charming asshole, and you just couldn’t get enough of it. Mercifully, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, but he didn’t put them where you needed them. 

“Please, fuck, please rub my clit. I need to cum, Daddy.”

Seeming pleased that you asked nicely, he gave you what you wanted. It wasn’t quite enough at first, but then he pressed your clit more firmly. You circled, thrusted, and bucked your hips, getting yourself off on his cock and his fingers until another orgasm hit you. Your body bowed toward him as you came, and Jack watched in satisfaction as your beautiful face screwed in pleasure. 

“That’s it, baby. Cum for Daddy, cum all over my dick. There’s my good girl,” he praised, rubbing your back with the hand not busy with your clit. He didn’t let up on stimulating you until you pushed him away, which didn’t happen until you had a second, weaker orgasm.

You stilled to catch your breath, but Jack didn’t give you a moment of downtime. He lifted you off his lap and gently placed you on the bed next to him. He quickly got up, onto his knees, and pushed you face-first into the plush pillows. Your yelp of surprise was muffled, and you found yourself enveloped in a warm, stuffy cocoon of Jack’s cologne. 

You were lying flat on your stomach with your arms splayed out. Jack positioned himself behind you, pushed back in, and laid his weight on top of you so you were pinned down. Almost immediately, he started to roughly buck his hips into you. This was one of his favorite positions; one he preferred to cum in. He could fuck you deep and rough because the angle made it easier for you to take him. He could mount you like the animal you turned him into.

“Goddamn, baby,” he swore under his breath. He snaked an arm around your middle to hold you firmly in place while he all but put you through the bed. Each of his thrusts punched a high-pitched moan from your throat, but all of your sounds were muffled by the pillows and mattress.

“Daddy,” you slurred. 

“I know, baby, I know. Taking it so well for me, that’s it. Daddy’s almost done, I promise. Once I cum, I’ll give you anything you want. Anything in the whole fucking world.” His sentence got more airy and strained as he went on. 

You reached one arm back and blindly grasped for him. He saw it and firmly wound his fingers with yours in an intimate, desperate handhold. He squeezed you tightly as a groan escaped from deep within him. That was your only warning before Jack’s cock spurted and filled you up with hot cum. He didn’t stop thrusting into you until every drop had been milked from him. He collapsed on top of you for just a moment before he gently pulled out and grabbed a towel from the nightstand to clean you up. Before he wiped through the mess between your legs, he took a moment to admire his work.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he muttered to himself. 

You continued to lie with your face in the pillows, mindless and dizzy as stars danced in your vision. His hands were gentle so as not to overstimulate you, and when he was finished, he joined you back on the bed. 

“Come here,” he said softly. You allowed yourself to be rolled against his chest and little spooned as he gently stroked the skin of your neck, arms, shoulders, and back. This was Jack’s favorite part, seeing the blissful expression on your face as you allowed yourself to totally relax into him. “Doing okay, baby?”

“Mhm,” you said.

“You’re adorable,” he chuckled. 

You turned your head to nuzzle into his chest, the gray hairs scratching against your face. He brushed his thumb over your cheek and down to your lips, gently tracing the lines of your face. 

“You’re staying the night, right?” he asked. You missed the genuine, excited smile on his face when you nodded with your eyes still closed. “Then get some sleep, princess. I’ll be here to take care of you.”

You allowed yourself to fall into sleep, feeling completely safe and comfortable in Jack’s arms. He snuggled around you to adjust the covered and he lay down behind you. Jack didn’t sleep much when you were over. He would rather spend the time watching you, the way your eyelids fluttered, and your lips parted slightly while you breathed. He was there to watch over you, to keep his girl safe. It was his job to spoil you, not just with money and gifts, but in every way imaginable.