“I’ll come,” he whines. “Ialwayscome when you spank me. It’s like…like a Pavlovian response to it now. Like you’ve trained my body to come when you spank me.”
It’s difficult to hold back my chuckle, but somehow I manage. It’s probably the fact that he sounds genuinely bereaved. Instead, I stroke his back. “I love that you make a mess every time I make your perfect ass cheeks glow, baby. You know that.”
“Yeah, but Santa’s rule was no coming. And if I come, I don’t get to suck Santa’s cock.”
“Oh, I see. Well, what if Santa changes his rules this time?”
His throat works for a moment. “Why would Santa Daddy do that?”
“Because it’s Christmas, precious. And,” I pause to make sure I have his complete attention, gazing into his beautiful eyes as I add, “I love you, Miles.”
Joy lights up his features even while his eyes well with tears. “Oh my God,” he murmurs in awe, and I don’t know whether he meant to say it out loud or not. Then he swallows again and says, “I love you, too, Dmitri. So much.”
“Even if I make you come every time I spank you?”
His resulting laughter is watery, but he’s nodding. “Yes,” he leans in, dropping his voice lower, as if sharing a secret, “maybeespeciallybecause of that.”
With his mouth so close to mine, I can’t resist the temptation to dip down and claim it with my own. I start with good intentions, kissing him sweetly after our shared feelings, but then he climbs back into my lap, straddling me, and all bets are off.
I moan when he grinds down, his erection bumping against my own. All plans to get into costume and reprise our silly sexy Christmas roles vanish, swept from my mind at the touch of his tongue against mine and the sound of his needy mewls and whines.
I lose myself in him, in his soft sighs and in the way his fingers tug at the ends of the longer hair on the top of my head. The way his mouth tastes like sugar cookies, and the hard press of hisabs against my softer belly. This kiss is all heat and affection; a celebration of our feelings for each other and a filthy promise of things to come.
Speaking of things to come…
Miles eventually draws back to breathe, and gives me a saucy wink. “Hey, Daddy?”
The glint in his eye makes my dick twitch with anticipation. It’s the same glint that I saw on the day we met, the one that promises his cheeky, slightly bratty side is about to come out to play. And, God, but I love that side of him. I love every side of him.
“…Yes?” I stretch the word out with exaggerated caution, playing his game, knowing it’s what he wants from me in this moment.
His kiss-swollen lips stretch wide, and for a second I’m distracted, already imagining them wrapped around my aching cock. But then he speaks, “Did you know that we’re like hot chocolate and marshmallows?”
Oh, no. Does this count as a Christmas pun?
I thought we were done with these.
Still, he’s practically vibrating on my lap, so I sigh and give in. “How’s that, precious?”
“Well, you’re hot…and I want to be on top of you.”
I snort and groan all at once, affecting exaggerated disgust, “That one wasawful, baby.”
Miles pouts. “So…youdon’twant me on top of you?”
I grip his hips and thrust up against him, letting him feel just how much I definitely don’t hate the idea. “Now, I never said that,” I drawl, watching his eyelashes flutter shut and grinning at the damp spot forming at the front of his gray sweats, “but I thought Daddy’s good boy wanted to suck Santa’s candy cane?”
Instead of a verbal response, Miles clamors off my lap, landing on the rug on his knees with a dullthump. I spread my legsfurther apart in invitation, chuckling at his enthusiasm to pull my erection out of my own sweatpants, lifting my hips to give him better access as he tugs my pants down my thighs.
My cock, much like I’m sure his is, is already wet and throbbing with need. It strains up towards my belly, flushed and purpled at the head.
On his best behavior tonight, Miles wraps his fingers around the base, but looks up at me and asks, “Can I suck it now, Daddy?” in his most submissive voice.
“Fuck, yes, precious.”
He doesn’t wait another second, lapping at the head before taking the entire length to the back of his throat.
The first time he’d demonstrated this ability, I’d nearly gone cross-eyed at the pleasure. The hot, wet heat. The suction. The feeling of those plump lips stretched wide around the base of my shaft, brushing my balls…
