“Good, because I want you to fuck me again. Not now, but another day. And if you’re comfortable, we could get tested and you could come inside me.”
My eyes widened as he turned toward me again. “Inside you? No condom?”
He nodded. “I know you don’t like messes, but it’d be inside me, not you.”
“I….” I scrubbed my hand over my hot cheek. “I think I’d like you to shoot in me someday.”
“Really?” He quirked an eyebrow at me and gathered me in his arms, dragging me closer. “Wouldn’t that be too frustrating for you?”
I frowned in thought. “Maybe?” Shaking my head, I raised my chin. “But I could handle it. I could clean thoroughly afterward. I… thought about it when you were fucking me, Daddy. I think I want your cum in me, too, and I want to feel the real you inside me.”
His grin was worth the commitment to a future mess, and then he slammed me back against the wall of the shower. I gasped but it was swallowed by his mouth.
* * *
I wokeup the next morning and stretched in JP’s comfortable bed. Thinking back on the night before, I couldn’t help but smile, and it only grew when a strong arm dragged me back against an even stronger chest. I turned my head, and JP smiled at me.
“Good morning, boy.”
I slept in Daddy’s bed.My heart sped and I twisted around for a deep kiss that had my toes curling. “Good morning, Daddy.”
“We need to get up early so we can go to Vic’s and get your suits,” he whispered into my ear. His hot breath tickled my skin, and I shivered. I hadn’t expected to stay the night at JP’s, so I hadn’t brought any clothes. I’d worn his pajama pants to sleep last night and one of his soft, white undershirts.
I pouted at him, but when he gave me a hard slap on the ass, I gasped. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Good. Can you make breakfast?”
Familiar shame filled me and I ducked my head into the pillow. I mumbled something I knew he wouldn’t hear, and when he gently pulled at my shoulder to roll me on my back, I sighed.
“What was that, boy? I asked you a question and I want a real answer.” His expression hardened in what I was now calling hisDaddy face. It was stern and made my stomach turn to lava. Whenever I saw it, I wanted to get on my knees and let him fuck my mouth.
“I don’t know how to cook, Daddy. I was never taught. We have a staff at my house,” I whispered in embarrassment.
“Really?” He rose to sit on his ass, and I watched him, searching for irritation or amusement at my predicament in his expression, but I only saw kindness. Was this the same man who’d made my life hell when I’d started working for Mr. Elwood? “All right. Get up. I’m going to teach you how to cook something easy.”
I blanched in fear. “Do you want me to burn down your beautiful house?”
He gave me another stern look, and a shiver crept down my spine. “Confidence, Max. You’re not useless. Let’s go. We’re going to make a breakfast quesadilla.”
My stomach grumbled at the thought and I ran my hand over the flat of my belly. “What’s that?”
He paused halfway out of the bed and glanced back at me. “What’s what?”
“A quesadilla?” I resisted the urge to hide my face and slipped out from under the blankets. My feet hit the wooden floors and I turned to him. “Is that Spanish? I’ve never eaten much Spanish food. Our cook is German. She made a lot of flädle for breakfast. It’s like pancakes, but with herbs and stuff.”
“You haven’t….” He shook his head and stalked around the bed. With a wide smile, he dragged me into his arms and placed a kiss on my forehead. “I’m going to give you the stars, boy, so I can light up a whole new world you’ve never seen before. I’m going to open those pretty little peepers of yours to new experiences. Would you be okay with that?”
I grinned. “Always, Daddy.”
“Good boy. Come with me. No longer shall you live the life of the sheltered bourgeoisie,” JP said dramatically and slid his fingers into mine.
“I sense an insult in there somewhere,” I murmured, but I was mostly joking.
He chuckled and guided me through the house like he was taking a lost lamb, and I went willingly. I’d follow him anywhere. We walked down the stairs and to the kitchen, the warmth of the house making me both anxious that maybe a fireplace had been on all night but happy that the floor wasn’t cold on my bare feet.
“You didn’t tell me what a quesadilla is, Daddy,” I whispered when we entered through the kitchen door.
“You’ll find out soon. Are you allergic to any foods?” he asked.
