Laughing, I shake my head. The spicy scent of his cologne, faded from wear, wafts up from his shirt and tickles my nose. “I mean, it was exactly what I needed. What I’ve been craving.”
“You’ve been craving corner time?” Kris’s voice is low and teasing. I pinch his nipple through his shirt, making him hiss and jolt under me.
“No,” I chuckle, rolling my eyes. “I’ve been craving a Daddy to take over and let me just be me, you know? And not just any Daddy. You, specifically. Which you know.” My blush refuses to die, but I forge on. “Like…you’ve always known just how to handle me, even from the beginning. And I know you like the same kinks as me, but it’s more than that. It’s like…” I struggle to put it into words. “Like we’ve known each other forever instead of only a handful of months, I guess. I feel like I can be myself with you. Nothing as cheesy as fate, or whatever, but—”
“We had an instant connection,” he finishes with a warm smile. I nod.
“Exactly. And I’m glad we’ve taken the time to get to know each other, too, even if I’ve had the worst case of blue balls ever.”
A burst of startled laughter erupts out of him, bouncing his soft belly and chest under my arm. “That makes two of us. For all of it.”
My fingers twitch. “You’ve been frustrated too?”
“Horny as fuck, you mean?”
It’s my turn to choke on my laughter again. I tilt my head back to look up at his handsome face. “Yeah. Horny as fuck.”
“I guessed that from the public groping earlier.”
“I told you; there was a fly, and—oh.” Whatever else I planned on saying flies out of my head as Kris brings his mouth to mine. It’s not our first kiss, but it somehow still feels like it is.
Fireworks burst to life in my brain. Every last neuron lights up with delight and arousal. I melt into the kiss like ice-cream on a hot summer’s day, turning into warm, syrupy goo.
It’s sweet, and hot, and everything I’ve wanted since I left the camp all those months ago.
“Take me to bed, Daddy.” The request comes out breathless and needy when we part for air. “Please?”
Kris groans and gives me a heated look tempered with fondness. “Good boy for asking nicely.”
We climb off the couch and he leads me to his bedroom, flipping on the lamp that sits on the bedside table and casting the room in a soft, golden glow. This is already far more romantic thananything I’ve ever experienced before, and that sensation only deepens when Kris slowly kisses my lips, then my jawline, then down my neck.
His hands glide over my back, down my sides, across my hips, then swipe back up and explore the same terrain all over again. There’s nothing manic or rushed about his touch, or the way he’s laying sensual kisses over any and all exposed skin he finds, setting off goosebumps that run up my arms and a shiver which trails down my spine.
“You’re so gorgeous,” he murmurs into my ear, his beard tickling the side of my face. I squirm and giggle breathlessly, gasping as he pulls me flush against him. His body heat radiates into me, and the bulge between his legs presses urgently into my lower belly. “You feel what you do to me?”
“Uh-huh,” I all but whimper, trying to twist a little, to grind against that enticing hardness. “Fuck, Kristian.”
“Please do,” he replies playfully.
I grin, and then we’re kissing again. It’s still slow and sensual, but there’s a deeper need building, our tongues tangling together and our mouths pressing together more firmly.
“Can I undress you?” Kris asks as we part for air, his fingers toying with the hem of my sweater.
I all but whimper, “Please,” leaning back and raising my arms to make it easier for him to pull the garment up my torso and over my head. He takes my white t-shirt with it, leaving me in only my jeans.
Kris’s hands smooth down my shoulders and pecs, awe and hunger shining in his gaze. “Just as perfect as I remember.”
Dropping my voice into a sultry demand, I respond, “Mmm, it’s your turn now.”
It’s not long before he’s also shirtless, and his pants hit the floor moments later. I shimmy out of my jeans when he complains that we’re imbalanced, and then we collide and tumble to the bed in a tangle of limbs and tongues and gasps.
“I never asked,” he manages between heated kisses, grinding his erection into my thigh, “do you prefer to top or bottom? I’m vers, so I’m up for whatever you want, sweetheart.”
A thrill ofwantshoots through me, making my cock throb and dribble. “I’ve never topped,” I tell him, which I know is not an answer. “I guess I leaned into the twink stereotype and I just…never thought about it. And I liked bottoming —loved it, really— so I never felt like I was missing out.”
He doesn’t laugh at my word-vomit, nor does he seem to be annoyed that I’m kind of ruining the mood by having this revelation in the middle of his bed when we’re supposed to be getting down and dirty. Instead, Kris’s large palm cups my jaw, his thumb stroking encouragingly over my cheekbone.
“Do you want to try?” he asks lightly. “No pressure either way. Hell, if all you want to do is rub off against each other like the last couple of times—”
