“Don’t stop,” he mumbled, his shaft pulsing in my hand. “Need more.”
“And I’ll give it to you,” I promised. “But don’t come.”
“Won’t,” he promised, a shiver moving through him. “Not until… until you say.”
His ass blazed with heat, so red it was practically glowing, and it was tempting just to stroke him off. Feel him spill on my lap like he’d done before. Spread him open and watch his hole clench and tremble as I jerked him off, then bury myself inside him and drive him even higher. But what he needed first was to tip over into that place I’d seen him go before. The place he almost was now.
“You’re so good for me, sweetheart,” I said, letting go of his cock and ignoring my own so I could finish spanking him the way he needed. Spank him so he’d feel it. Crack my hand into him in a relentless rhythm, working him over as he jerked on my lap and bit off broken curses and then,finally, lay across my thighs as he shivered and trembled and slowed down until he was down. Lay there in total submission, moaning quietly with each smack until even that was beyond him. Until all the troubles he’d come to me with earlier drained out of him, leaving him empty... bare... free.
Totally mine.
“Don’t... stop,” he murmured almost incoherently when I did. “Daddy…”
“Daddy decides,” I reminded him. “And that’s enough for now.”
He would be feeling it for days—hell, so would I, based on the way my hand was throbbing—but I could see it in the soft lines of his hard body, in the boneless trust he gave me as he draped over my lap. He’d finally gotten what he needed.
Well, most of what he needed. He was still hard, still hadn’t come…
But I planned on giving him that a different way.
15
Jordan
Andy’s handswere on my ass, rubbing and petting and soothing away the burn they’d put there when he’d spanked me, even as his touch also kept that bee-stung buzzing sensation, the deep ache that he’d put there, the ache that made me feel like he fuckingownedme, alive and well.
Did I want that to stop? Naked on his bed, face buried in a pillow that smelled like him and having him touch me like he was fucking worshipping me? Uh, no. Not ever. But...
“That dinner you made is going to get cold,” I said, dragging my eyelids open and twisting around to look at him, even though just lying here and feeling him touch me like this and not thinking at all for the rest of my life sounded pretty much perfect. It wasn’t just my eyelids that felt heavy, it was my thoughts and whole fucking body and brain andeverything... but in a good way. A satisfied way. Almost like we’d already fucked and I was high off it, even though we hadn’t gotten that far yet.
Getting to his bedroom from the kitchen had felt like a dreamy blur, and having him strip me down and lay me out on his bed—roll me onto my stomach and kiss and lick and suck his way down my spine, all the way to my ass, like he was in some kind of cult of lip worship that I’d gladly sacrifice a few million virgins to if it meant he’d keep using his mouth on me like that—that had been a whole different kind of dream. One I hadn’t wanted to wake up from, all floaty and high-feeling like I’d been. But then, after he’d finally gotten himself naked, too—and started rubbing something that smelled good and felt even better into my aching ass until I wanted to moan and beg and promise him obscenely dirty things if he’d just keep doing that—thenI’d remembered the dinner thing.
Was I hungry? For his cock, fuck yes. But for chicken? Not so much. But did it make me feel stupidly… uh,caredabout, to know that he’d gone and made dinner for me? Yeah, it really fucking did. Like, kind of a ridiculous amount.
Pretty sure someone cooking for me like that had never happened before, and as horny and floaty and fuckingperfectas I felt right now, I also didn’t want to disrespect his effort… plus, I still needed to a chance to make amends for the embarrassing fork thing.
Well, sort of embarrassing.
Okay, honestly? He’d pretty much spanked the embarrassment right out of me, and the little bit that was left almost felt… uh, hot?
Was that weird?
It turned me on for some reason, thinking of how fucking ridiculous I’d been and how Daddy had just let me freak the fuck out on him and throw a humiliating tantrum and say a bunch of stupid shit… and it turned me on even more that he’ddealtwith it. That he still fucking wanted me—maybe wanted me even more, if I was reading him right—now that he’d seen me lose it, done something about it, and shown me that he really meant it about being in charge.
Fuck, I really was fucked up, wasn’t I? But if that meant I gotthis, then it was kind of hard to give a shit about at the moment.
“We’ll reheat dinner,” Andy said, pressing another kiss to the base of my spine that made my whole body quiver. “This comes first. Taking care of you is always going to come first for me, Jordan.”
Oh… shit. He was going to legit wreck me if he kept saying stuff like that.
I never wanted him to stop.
He spread more of that good-smelling lotion on me, rubbing it in with torturously slow passes of his hands, firm and possessive, covering every inch of skin that he’d spanked. Pretty sure he’d gone over the whole area a few times already, but even if it was a kind of erotic torture that had my cock weeping onto his stupidly silky bedspread, I didn’t hate the attention. More importantly? It wasn’t up to me. He was going to do what he wanted, because he was in charge… and fuck if I didn’t like it that way.
The dinner thing, though...
“But you cooked,” I reminded him, still kind of floored that he’d gone out of his way like that for me.
