“And that’s what the pain gives you. The cage does it too, doesn’t it?”
I look at him until he nods. “Giving up control. That’s what you need, baby boy. That’s what I like to give you.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“How do you get to this place in your head? Where it’s all quiet and peaceful?”
I go to the sink to wash my hands, then come around the island and put my arms around him. He leans against me and I kiss the top of his head. “I get there by taking care of you, baby.”
I don’t want to give this boy up at the end of the weekend. The scent of my shampoo wafts up from Silas’s hair. I hold him against me and breathe in. If there was any way I could keep him, I would.
For a single, breathless moment, I let myself imagine what it might be like to have Silas stay. To have him be the thing that changes everything, that turns my life upside down. A boy of my own—someone to take care of, but also someone I could fuck and love and punish.
It’s not right, though. It can’t last. At the end of the weekend, Silas will go back to the city and his job and a new life he’ll create to be whatever he wants. He’ll find someone closer to his own age. Hopefully someone who will understand what he needs and won’t make him feel ashamed for it.
I’ll go back to the way I was, too. To the life I’ve built for myself. Work that fills my days and most of my evenings and weekends, but that I genuinely enjoy. Dinners and galas and benefits that are not only client development but also keep me informed about new and emerging trends in the industry.
Hookups and one-night stands to slake my physical needs without getting emotionally entangled.
“Daddy?”
“Hmm?”
“I lo—” He stops and I can feel his throat move as he swallows. “I’m hungry.”
And I’m back to where I am, where I can take care of Silas through this weekend, but that’s all I can have. Christmas is next week and I’ll eventually have to speak to my son again. I can’t imagine that Silas will ever want to see him again, but I can’t just cut Lance out of my life. Not even for Silas.
I kiss the top of Silas’s head again and release him. “Let’s finish making dinner, baby.”
I put him to work peeling and chopping garlic cloves and a couple of carrots while I brown the chicken and pork. I allow him one glass of wine and we talk about inconsequential things, like the latest books we’ve read, and a film we both want to see.
Safe things.
I put a movie on after dinner and Silas curls up next to me on the sofa. I run my hand up and down his arm and knead the muscles of his shoulder, his back. He looks like he belongs here, in my home, wearing my shirt, his hair tousled from my fingers. I completely lose the plot of the movie, focusing instead on Silas.
Eventually, his head gets heavier in my lap and I think he’s on the verge of falling asleep. “Bedtime, sweetheart.”
He grumbles but sits up and rubs his knuckles into his eyes.
“Go upstairs and wash your face and brush your teeth,” I tell him. “I’ll be up in a few minutes.”
By the time I turn out the lights, head upstairs, and finish brushing my own teeth, Silas is snuggled under the covers, just a spray of blond hair visible on the pillow. His clothes are draped over the chair by the windows, those bright Saxx boxer-briefs atop his dark jeans, so I know he’s naked under there.
I take my own clothes off, tidy them away, and slip under the covers. Silas immediately turns into me, wrapping arms and legs around me like a spider monkey. “‘Night, Daddy,” he murmurs.
I kiss the top of his head. “Good night, baby boy.”
I wake to Silas’s mouth on my cock and a steady sucking that curls my toes and arches my back. When I open my eyes and reach down to wind my fingers in Silas’s hair, he pulls off with a wet pop.
“Morning, Daddy,” he says with a wide smile.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” I’ve never seen Silas this chipper this early in the morning, but then again, this is only the second time he’s woken in my bed. And after yesterday’s nap and last night’s early bedtime, he’s probably more rested than usual.
And then I quit thinking about anything except Silas’s mouth on my cock as he goes back down on me. I’m barely awake and his mouth is hot and wet, so I let him take control and I don’t flip him over to fuck his throat the way I have so far.
He doesn’t go easy on himself, though. His nose is buried in my pubes and my cock is nudging at the back of his throat. He stays there for an endless moment, throat working, cheeks hollowed, and it’s glorious. I wish I could stay here forever and let Silas work me over until we both expire—him from asphyxiation and me from, I don’t know, dehydration or starvation or something.
