“Okay.” I let it go. He’s not ready.
He might never be ready.
Meaning all I can do is try to mitigate the stress for him, the way Leo always did.
I hope I’m up to the task.
* * * *
The flight back to DC is quiet. I strip Elliot mostly so I can check his leg and Duck and clean any dirt off him that might have worked its way in there. I’ll wait until we’re back at the residence to fully bathe us.
I’ve quickly come to love that part of our routine. The morning wake-up showers, where we shave each other and can quietly ease him into his day, and evening showers, where I can sex him the hell up and have fun teasing him.
We spend most of the flight snuggled together in the bunk, me dressed and him naked, so I can hold him.
We’re less than forty-eight hours from Elliot declaring.
He’s lying in my arms on the bunk when I ask it. “Why did you take me today, boy?”
He needs a moment to ponder it. “I didn’t want to be alone.”
“What else?”
I wait him out. “What did you think of them? Of Dad’s reaction?”
“I think you need to live your life makingyouhappy, not trying to get some sort of reaction from them.”
“But…was it just me?”
I nuzzle his temple, pressing a kiss there. “No, boy. It wasn’t just you. You need to come to peace with the fact that you might not ever earn whatever it is you think you need from him.”
Even though he doesn’t reply, I can tell he’s mulling my words.
Once we’re home, I know he’s going to need a distraction. I take my time bathing him, dropping him hard and deep into subspace with some well-timed and -placed bites that soon have him forgetting about everything else.
My friend the silicone spatula makes another appearance when I put Elliot in his collar and cuffs and spread him over my lap on the bed for a spanking that leaves him squirming and crying and sweetly begging for more.
Tonight, I lie back and let him straddle me and ride my cock while I slowly jack his. Between his exhaustion, the spanking, and an orgasm, he’ll sleep well tonight, that’s for sure.
When he spills, it’s all over my abs and chest. Once I’ve finished, I make him lean in and lick up every drop he squirted all over me before I kiss him and we untangle so we can wash up.
Elliot’s back in bed and falling asleep when I remember Leo.
I check the burner. I haven’t had Elliot text him over the past twenty-four hours, and there is one from Leo, sent this afternoon.
Miss you. Text me when you can. Safe trip, pet.
Yeah, well, a few messages like that sent to me would’ve gone a long way to winning me back from Florida.
Nice to knowIdidn’t rate a check-in.
* * * *
I spend early Saturday morning sipping coffee and scrolling through my e-mail on the campaign phone I now have. They’ve sent me the latest draft of Elliot’s speech for tomorrow morning. It’s good. Solid. They took several changes I sent them on the last round of edits and incorporated them.
Why am I reading this now instead of waking Elliot? I will wake him up, but he doesn’t have to be up for nearly twenty minutes, and I want this fresh in my mind. We’re heading over to the campaign office after lunch, and I want to make notes to return to staff so they can have the new draft prepped by the time we arrive. I’ll need to drill Elliot on it tonight before we go to sleep.
Maybe with him tied up and a vibrating prostate massager going to town inside him.
