The morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and golden, and for a moment I just lay there, listening to his heartbeat under my ear. Steady. Reliable. Everything I'd been searching for without knowing it.
"You awake, bud?" His voice rumbled through his chest, still rough with sleep.
"Mm-hmm." I didn't move, wasn't ready to give up this cocoon of warmth and safety.
His hand came up to stroke my hair. "We should probably get up. Breakfast is probably ready. We should get down there before it’s all gone."
"Five more minutes," I mumbled, burrowing closer.
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through me. "Alright. Five more minutes."
Those five minutes stretched into ten, neither of us willing to break the spell. My pulse thrummed low in my belly the longer I laid there.
I wanted to touch him.
Needed to.
I eased the sheet down, careful not to wake him too fast. Daddy had fallen back asleep deeper than I had. His boxer briefs were tented, morning wood straining against soft cotton, and the sight made my mouth water. I glanced up; his eyes were still closed, lashes dark against his cheeks. Perfect.
I shifted lower, settling between his thighs. The mattress dipped, and he stirred, a low sound rumbling in his chest.
“Tanner?” Sleep-rough, confused.
“Shh. It’s okay, just… let me take care of you.” My voice came out smaller than I meant, shy and hopeful.
His eyes cracked open, stormy even in the dim light. He took in the view—me on my knees between his legs, cheeks burning—and something soft and hungry flickered across his face.
“Bud,” he murmured, testing the word like it tasted good. My whole body lit up at the sound. “You don’t have to?—”
“I want to.” I hooked my fingers in his waistband and tugged. He lifted his hips to help, and then he was bare, thick and heavy against his stomach. I swallowed hard. “Please, Daddy.”
The title hung in the air between us, teasing and electric. His breath hitched; his hand came up to cup my jaw, thumb brushing my lower lip.
“Yeah?” he asked, voice gravel and smoke. “You gonna be good for me?”
I nodded frantically, already leaning in. “So good.”
He guided me down gently, fingers threading through my hair—not pushing, just holding. I licked a slow stripe up the underside of his cock, savoring the salt and heat, the way he twitched against my tongue. When I wrapped my lips around the head and sank lower, he groaned, hips flexing just enough to nudge the back of my throat.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he rasped. “Take what you need, baby.”
I did. I took him deeper, hollowing my cheeks, letting him feel every eager swirl of my tongue. His grip tightened in my hair, guiding now, setting a lazy rhythm that had my cock aching against the mattress. I loved this—loved being on my knees for him, loved the way his thighs tensed under my palms, the broken little sounds he couldn’t hold back.
“Look at me,” he ordered, voice strained.
I glanced up through my lashes. His dark eyes were fixed on me like I was the only thing in the world. The weight of that gaze sent a shiver down my spine.
“Such a pretty mouth,” he said, thumb tracing where my lips stretched around him. “My good boy.”
The praise hit me like a drug. I moaned around him, taking him to the root, nose pressed to the trimmed hair at his base. He cursed under his breath, hips stuttering.
“Close,” he warned, fingers tightening. “Tanner?—”
I didn’t pull off. I wanted it—wanted all of him. I sucked harder, humming, and he came with a low, wrecked groan, pulsing hot and thick across my tongue. I swallowed every drop, greedy, until he tugged me up by the hair and crushed our mouths together.
He kissed me filthy and slow, tasting himself on my tongue, licking into my mouth like he couldn’t get enough. When he finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard.
“Jesus, bud,” he muttered against my lips, forehead pressed to mine. “You trying to kill me?”
