Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Something was wrong with me. We could’ve jumped into bed the second we got back to his place, and then we’d ended up talking in the living room. Talking. Talking and kissing and swapping life stories and losing a few items of clothing and more talking. Which was great and all, but I was super horny—so it was fucked up that I couldn’t stop thinking about decorations!
“In my defense, it’s December eighth—technically ninth now—and you don’t have a single decoration,” I huffed, out of breath. “Where’s your tree? All the Santas? The lights and the red, green, and gold?”
“I’m half tempted to turn your irresistible little ass red if that counts.”
I shuddered violently.
That counted.
I met him in a deep, hungry kiss and finally told myself to pick my damn battles better. I could sweetly hint about decorations in the morning on our way to work.
“You like that idea, don’t you?” he murmured.
I nodded and began unbuttoning his shirt. It was all wrinkled from my pulling on it anyway. It belonged next to his tie on the floor of his living room.
Fuck, his kisses were so damn drugging.
In the middle of the next heated kiss, he untucked his shirt and took over until it was thrown next to the sink, followed by his undershirt. Then he secured my legs around his hips and lifted me off the counter.
I sucked in a breath, decorations long forgotten, and I gave him all my focus. I heard him in my head, the memory from the car when he half awkwardly offered to stop somewhere to buy protection. Nuh-uh, I didn’t want. Not anymore. Not with him. We’d covered the safety bit, and I wanted his hard cock without anything in between. Unlike that dude at the office, Wyatt didn’t keep rubbers in every drawer in case he got lucky on the go.
Along the way to wherever his bedroom was, he pressed me up against a wall and stole my breath with an intoxicating kiss. I couldn’t help but whimper and cling to him. And I wanted that name out there in the tension surrounding us.
“Are you gonna fuck me now, Daddy?”
Shit, the second it was out, something happened inside me. My stomach tightened, my face got hot, and I felt weirdly small and vulnerable.
“Fuck.” Wyatt exhaled a curse and pressed a kiss to my neck. He slowed things down, except for his breathing, and I squirmed in his grasp, rubbing my crotch over his cock.
Jesus.
He was so hard, and it made my mouth water.
“Yeah…” He drew a deep breath and dropped an openmouthed kiss below my ear. “Daddy’s finally going to take his beautiful little boy.”
I whimpered again, so needy that I couldn’t find the right word to describe it, and he picked up the pace. Up the stairs, just a few steps, maybe five, and then he was rounding a corner.
At long last, we ended up in his bedroom, and he lowered me onto the big bed. We just continued. We kissed as if we couldn’t get enough, and I sure couldn’t, and he pressed himself against me, causing a ball of pleasure and need to explode within me.
In a messy rush between kisses and grabbing at each other, we lost the last of our clothes, and I couldn’t fucking stop touching him. His chest, his chest hair, his sides, his neck—I dug my heels into his ass cheeks and let my hands roam up and down his back.
About that thing before, though… Something needed to be said. “Yes to spanking and yes to cuffs and yes to you taking me without much preparation, just…um, I’m not a fan of, like, whips and spiked paddles.”
He rumbled a low, lust-filled chuckle and slipped a hand between us to grip my cock. Hnngh. “In other words, I don’t have to worry about you wanting a torture dungeon.”
I shook my head vigorously and bit my lip. God, that felt good. He stroked me slowly but firmly from base to tip, and I was leaking already.
“Get the oil in my nightstand,” he whispered.
Right this second!
I squirmed around and reached for the stand, but it wasn’t easy because his bed was super big, and he was holding me tightly. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God—then he was sucking my cock into his mouth too.
“Daddy,” I gasped.
He hummed around me and pulled away slowly. “Mmm, Daddy just needed a quick taste.”
Daddy could taste all he wanted, but my butt needed to be filled ASAP. It was his fault.
Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.
I could suddenly not imagine calling him something else when we were like this. I hadn’t anticipated the sense of freedom I’d get from a title. It was just a word, right? Except, it carried meaning and whispered of the liberation of our sexual identities.
It fueled me. It spurred me on.