“You think so?” I murmured, leaning forward to press our mouths together, tickling his lips with the tip of my forked tongue before pulling back. “Well, maybe after dinner we should see if I can make you cum without touching you anywhere else.” Paul sucked in a gasping breath and I grinned. “How does that sound?”
“Yes! Yes, please,” Paul pleaded, biting down on his lip. His eyes widened and his nostrils flared, making me feel almost guilty that he was going to have to wait. “Now?”
“After dinner,” I repeated, stroking his cheek before shoving myself to my feet. “In fact, that delivery should be coming soon, so why don’t you finish up in here and get dressed while I pop a quick shower in the guest room?”
“Dressed?” Paul scowled. “Can’t we just eat naked? It would get us to the good stuff faster.”
Biting back a laugh, I shook my head. “Dry off and get dressed,” I said firmly. “You only get one birthday a year and I’ve got plans for you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Paul
Okay, so it’s possible that I was still sulking when I stomped out to the living room in a pair of skin-tight royal blue boxer briefs and a pair of socks. After all, that damn Alpha had just gotten me all hot and bothered and then walked away like it was nothing. If it hadn’t been for the bulge he’d had to shift in his jeans when he stood up, I might of thought Sylas wasn’t really interested. Since I knew he was, I was pissed at being left hard and wanting – no matter how many times he’d gotten me off so far that day.
“Can we eat now?” I huffed, planting my feet and dropping my hands on my hips, not even trying to hide the erection trying to drill its way out of my underwear.
Sylas was sitting on the couch and glanced up from his phone, growling deep in his throat when he saw me. “I told you to get dressed.”
I shivered at the deep gravelly tone but held my ground. “I’m not naked.”
Sylas stood and stalked over to me, squeezing my straining dick with one hand and bringing the other down on the back of my thigh with a resounding slap, making me yelp. “Unless you want me to redden this ass before you have to sit down on it to eat, you will getproperlydressed.” He raised a brow, his hand rubbing the spot he’d slapped. “Of course, if you earn a spanking, you’ll be going the wrong direction to get what you want later.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. He wouldn’t really refuse to make good on his promise about making me cum on his tongue, would he? From the frown on his face, I was afraid he might.
Ug.
“Fine,” I huffed, turning and stomping back toward the bedroom.
“And Paul?” I stopped but didn’t turn around. “Dress up, please. No ratty sweats or holey jeans.”
Double ugh.
“Fine,” I repeated, slamming the bedroom door behind me in a fit of temper.
It didn’t take long before regret started to fill me. Sylas had been nothing but kind, compassionate, and patient from the moment that we’d met and how did I repay him? By throwing a hissy fit because he wasn’t willing to drop everything to offer stud services for the fifth time that day. Because he wanted to finish giving me a birthday to remember before indulging my sexual impulses.
No wonder nobody at the ODI campus had been willing to bother with me. I really was an overly dramatic prick, just like they’d said.
Determined to make amends -or at least try- I tossed a pair of charcoal slacks and a neatly pressed white dress shirt on the bed before ducking into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I even spent a few minutes adding a touch of bronzer to my face and lining my eyes to make them pop. Once I was dressed, I made my way back to the living room where Sylas had already put away the ladder and was mumbling to himself over a text on his phone.
“Excuse me.” My voice was a little on the faint side, but at least it didn’t tremble.
“Hey.” Sylas greeted me with a smile that was every bit as warm and welcoming as it usually was. “You look great!”
If anything, his easy acceptance of me made the knife of guilt in my belly twist harder. “I’m sorry I was an as..a jerk,” I said quickly, hoping to keep the tears from starting. Stupid pregnancy hormones.
Sylas’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? You weren’t a jerk, Tiger.” He reached out a hand to pull me to him.
“I was,” I disagreed sadly. “I was rude and snotty and slammed the door.”
“Oh, that,” Sylas chuckled and rubbed his nose behind my ear. “No worries, Paul. You’re allowed to have feelings and opinions and everything else,” he assured me gently. “Just because we disagree on something doesn’t mean you have to apologize.” He snorted. “It doesn’t even mean that you’re wrong.”
I felt my eyebrows knit together in confusion. “But..”
“No buts,” Sylas interrupted with a well-practiced leer, “unless they’re the kind that get birthday spankings, hm?”
Heat rushed through me and I promptly forgot what we were talking about. “Spankings?” I parroted, making him laugh again.
