A tear escaped and tracked down his cheek. "I love you so much."
"I love you too, sweet boy." I pulled him closer. "So much it scares me sometimes."
We stayed like that for a long time, just holding each other. Eventually, his breathing evened out, and I felt him relax completely against me.
"Better?" I murmured against his hair.
"Yeah." He nuzzled into my neck. "Thank you, Daddy. For always knowing what to say."
"That's my job." I pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Taking care of you. Making sure you know how loved and valued you are."
He pulled back to look at me, and something in his expression had shifted. His pupils were dilated, his breathing slightly faster.
"Daddy," he said, his voice dropping lower. "Can we…?"
Heat flared through me at the want in his voice. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." He shifted in my lap, deliberately pressing against me. "Need to feel close to you. Need you to show me I'm yours."
I groaned, my hands tightening on his hips. "You're always mine, bud. Always."
"Then show me," he challenged, rolling his hips. "Please, Daddy. Need you."
I was already hard, had been since he'd settled into my lap, and his movements were making it impossible to think about anything else.
"Bedroom," I said, my voice rough. "Now."
He scrambled off my lap and practically ran down the hall. I followed, taking a moment to appreciate the view of him in those soft sweatpants that clung to his ass.
In our bedroom, he was already pulling his shirt off, impatient and needy in a way that made my blood sing.
"Slow down," I commanded, and he froze. "We've got all night, sweet boy. No need to rush."
"But I want?—"
"I know what you want." I approached him slowly, deliberately. "And you're going to get it. But on my terms. Understood?"
He shivered, nodding quickly. "Yes, Daddy."
"Good boy." I reached out and ran my fingers down his chest, watching goosebumps rise in their wake. "Strip. Slowly. I want to watch."
His hands shook slightly as he hooked his thumbs in his sweatpants and pushed them down, taking his boxers with them. He stepped out of them carefully, then stood before me completely bare except for his collar.
God, he was beautiful. Lean and pale and marked with the evidence of ranch life—a bruise on his hip from where a horse had bumped him, a scrape on his elbow from fixing a fence. Real and imperfect and absolutely perfect to me.
"On the bed," I said. "On your back."
He obeyed, climbing onto our bed and arranging himself against the pillows. His cock was already hard, flushed and leaking against his stomach.
I took my time undressing, letting him watch. His eyes tracked every movement, his breath coming faster with each piece of clothing I removed.
When I was finally naked, I climbed onto the bed and settled between his legs.
"Please," he whimpered. "Daddy, please."
"Please what?" I ran my hands up his thighs, avoiding where he wanted me most.
"Touch me. Please touch me."
