Non-sensible sounds continue pouring from him. His back arches and his toes curl as he chases after the orgasm that was building within him. An orgasm I’m nae gonna let him have. At least not yet.
“Not yet, mo ghille. I want ye desperate for me.”
Pulling away from him until the only parts o’ us that touch are where his legs drape over my thighs, I coat my cock with the rest o’ the lube. He usually likes to watch me stroke myself as I ready my cock for him, but he’s thrashing and crying.
Notching my dick against his hole, he stills. His voice is going hoarse, and I smirk.
“Are ye going to scream for me, lilla du?”
He nods and I reach out and twist his nipple until he gasps.
“Ow!”
His eyes fly open, and a petulant, bratty look takes over his face.
“That’s twice. Ye ken how to answer me.”
“Yes, sir. That hurt, Daddy.”
“I meant for it to. Now, answer me. Are ye going to scream for me?”
“I always do.”
“Mo ghille, the brat is writing checks yer arse cannae cash.”
“Now, who’s quoting Top Gun?”
“Hmmm. Is that the bathroom?”
His brow furrows. “Yeah,” he responds.
“Good. I’m going to jerk off and get some rest.”
“What? Why?”
“Only good boys get Daddy’s cock.”
I stand and move away from the bed toward the bathroom. As much as I want to fuck the boy through the mattress, he’s gotta learn Daddy is the boss.
He scrambles up on his knees, “No, Daddy. Please. I’ll be good. I promise.”
Kneeling before him, I say, “If ye arenae enjoying something, ye have yer safe words. That’s what they’re for. So, is the brat because ye’re nae enjoying what we’re doing and ye’re afraid to safe word or because yer mad ye’re nae getting yer way?”
He stares at me, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Just when I think he’s nae going to answer, the pout returns, and I have my answer, but I want him to admit it. I dinnae want to break the boy, but I cannae let him get away with nae answering me.
“The second one,” he whispers, his chin dropping to his chest.
CHAPTER SIX
TAVISH
I stare downat my hands as my butt drops to my heels. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. This man is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. He takes care of me. He watches over me, and I know he cares for me. At least, I believe he does, and I’m acting like a fucking moron.
Tears roll down my face, and instead of sobbing because he’s denying me orgasms, I’m crying like a spoiled brat. I dash them away.
“Red.”
I gasp, looking up at him. My chin puckers as I try to hold back the deluge of devastation. I knew I’d ruin it. I knew it in my gut. Samuel, my dad, and Owen told me I was a waste of space and useless. Now Draven has just ended things.
