He moaned, and I laughed as I held the water in and he removed the bulb.
“Boy, you don’t have to stay for the rest if you don’t want to.”
“I do. I really do.”
So he stayed, and it was strange—but not—to have him getting me ready, a bizarre erotic dance of plastic and water and gentle touches that felt more certain by the end of the process.
Eventually we were both good, and I made sure to scrub my hands well. I might have chosen to put us in the shower then, except I didn’t want to untie him just yet. He allowed me to lead him into my bedroom, and gawked around with curiosity, almost like he was checking to make sure nothing had changed.
“Get on the bed and present yourself for me, boy.” I reluctantly let go of the velvet.
“Yes, Daddy.” He bounded enthusiastically onto the bed and bounced enough there was a creak. Obviously he hadn’t meant to do that, and he shot a terrified glance at me, but I only smiled at him. He calmed a little as he fought to try to take the position I’d shown him earlier, this time on the less solid footing of a mattress. His muscles strained and sweat made them glisten.
His hard-on had gone down a bit but he was still firm and ready, and I couldn’t wait to have him in me. He spread his legs more as I watched, and I loved that I could see his balls hanging low and the clean lines of his slim body. I walked over and tipped his chin up.
“You’re proud to be my boy, aren’t you, Max?”
He sucked in a breath, and my cock surged at the sight of his shaft lifting and hardening. The tip grew fatter and a furrow developed between his brows.
“Yes, Daddy. I am. I… I want to fuck you, Daddy.”
“Lay back on the bed.” He nodded, and his cock bounced against his stomach as he complied with my order and tried to get comfortable. I jerked on the velvet when his tricky fingers tried to get down to his dick, and he whined.
“Do that again and you’ll be getting a punishment instead.”
He whimpered and his hips flexed. I would have paid a million bucks to know what was flitting through his mind. What was so arousing a punishment that he simply couldn’t stay still?
“Boy?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“That’s my cock, not yours. You’re going to fuck me with it, so no touching until you’re putting it in me.”
“Fuck, Daddy, yes. Yes, it’s yours.” He nodded and again twisted around on the bed as if he couldn’t be still if his life depended on it.
The longer I stared at him, the lower my grasp on my control slipped. I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep him tied for sex, but I loved the way he looked so much I didn’t undo the knot.
“What else is mine, Max?” I asked as I ate up the sight of him. His stomach heaved and gleamed in the low light of the lamp next to my bed. His nipples stood out, and I wanted to bite at them. The muscles in his spread thighs strained. “You didn’t fuck Vic. I believe you, but I’m jealous. Did you know? I’m jealous of all the time he got with you. I want every second of your day. I want you here, serving me as I see fit. I want you at work, following my exact orders.” As I spoke my passion, my anger, and Christ, my own kinky needs twisted up inside me. I wanted to possess every part of him, own all of his experiences—hell, his very existence. My cock ached to fuck him. My ass felt like it wouldn’t be complete without him.
I prowled onto the bed and hovered over him on all fours, dragging his hands above his head and using my weight to anchor the velvet knot there. He whined, and I didn’t lower myself to give him any of the touch he so obviously craved. His cock dripped glossy drops of precum onto his stomach and he bucked his hips.
Beautiful.
“You know what? If you had fucked Vic, I’d still want you, because I had you first, and I love the way you’re looking at me right now. Do you know what’s more important than your body? Your time. Your attention. Your devotion. Are you mine, boy? Do I have those things?”
“Yes, Daddy.” His lips parted. For a few seconds I considered crawling up the bed and stuffing his throat so I could pump my cum into him.
“Will you move back here and be mine?”
“Yes, Daddy.” He nodded fast, and the anger and residual anxiety I’d been fighting seeped out of me at the sincerity in his dark gaze.
“You’re such a good boy,” I sighed and lowered myself to rest on him. The connection of our skin sizzled heat through me. He was fast to spread his legs wide, welcome me home, but I was worried that with how long he’d been hard, if I went first, he’d blow while I was screwing him, and I’d selfishly decided I wanted him to drive me to the edge of bursting with his cock before I slid into his tight heat to fuck myself the rest of the way to coming. Whether he came in my ass or on my cock, I didn’t care; he’d be screaming through more than one orgasm tonight, if I had my say in matters.
“Are you comfortable, boy?”
“No, Daddy, it hurts. I need to come.” He wriggled under me and I loved the feel of his hard cock sliding beside mine. His squirming put pressure on my cockhead, and for a second my head swam with pleasure. I trapped his hands above him and worked our hips together until he was almost yelling out moans beneath me and arched so hard off the bed, he lifted me into the air. All at once I wanted to hear screams like the ones he’d made when he was alone in his room jerking off—before he left. At the time I’d thought maybe that was his “fuck you” to me, letting me know he’d be fine without me, but now I was wondering if I could have saved us both a lot of trouble if I’d just gone in there that night and fucked him the way I’d wanted.
I sat up and fumbled for the lube on my nightstand, and once I snagged the bottle, I tucked it into the curl of Max’s fingers on his right hand. I let go of my hold on the velvet and he brought the lube down to look at it.
