Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
I clenched around his cock, intensifying the sensations with that delicious burn I craved.
He whimpered and pressed his face against my back, and he fucked me faster, losing control of his movements. He was so close. I felt it everywhere, in his breaths, in how he gripped my hips.
“Time to come, baby boy,” I urged under my breath. “Daddy’s close too.”
I watched us in the mirror above the sink as he lost it. Head thrown back, that lethal expression of both agony and unbridled pleasure, eyes closed. He bit his lip and pumped into me a few more times, and it was about all I could take. I needed my cock shoved down his throat right fucking now.
“Oh God,” he breathed, collapsing against me.
“Kneel,” I gritted out.
He shuddered and drew out from me, then sank to his knees as I spun around on him. I grabbed his jaw and didn’t waste a second. I pushed my cock between his lips and threaded my fingers into his hair. Then I pushed forward, quick thrusts, deep thrusts, hard thrusts.
He choked on me.
He left marks on my thighs with his blunt nails.
I inhaled deeply, filling my senses with the smell of us, and it pushed me right there. I tensed up and sucked in a sharp breath. Peyton redoubled his efforts, the wet sounds of the suction finishing me off. I couldn’t take it. The orgasm rocketed through me.
Peyton hummed and swirled his tongue around my cock, sucking each rope of come down his throat.
“Such a good boy.” I bit back a breathless groan and leaned back against the counter. “Jesus Christ. I needed that.”
He went the extra mile and licked me clean before he tucked me back into my boxer briefs and zipped up my dress pants. “You’ve turned me into a cock addict.”
My sweet boy. I cupped the back of his neck and met him in a deep kiss, our tongues mingling, our breaths slowly returning to normal. We were down to the last couple minutes. We had to leave the bathroom.
We righted each other’s clothes in between kisses, and I told him to go out first.
I had to clean up the mess he’d made in me anyway.
He grinned shyly and blushed when I said that.
“I like making a mess in you, though.”
I chuckled and gave him one last kiss. “So do I, love. Now, you go first.”
“Yes, sir.” He washed his hands quickly first, then made his way out of the bathroom.
A couple minutes later, it was my turn.
I adjusted my tie in the mirror and shrugged on my suit jacket.
After leaving the bathroom, I returned to the others in the bustling lounge, but not before getting a drink at the bar.
Peyton and Julia were raiding the snack table by the buffet.
It felt ludicrous, but I was going to miss the hell out of him. Even though it was only four days. Checking my watch as I sat down across from Cathryn and Mathis, I saw that Peyton needed to go to his gate soon. His flight for Seattle departed in an hour. The rest of us would wait an additional forty minutes for our flight to Boston.
“Daddy, we got a cookie for you,” Julia said, walking toward our table.
“That’s sweet of you, darling.” I accepted the cookie and placed it on a napkin next to my scotch. “Want to sit with me?”
She shook her head and waited for Peyton. “Later, Daddy.”
I laughed. Very well.
Once Peyton had returned and taken his seat next to mine, Julia climbed up on his lap instead.
“By the way,” he said, reaching for something in his pocket, “I have something for you, sir.”
I took a sip of my drink, accepting a Post-it note, and I turned it over.
I, Edward Francis Delamare, hereby pledge to call Peyton Dylan Scott twice a day until we’re reunited again.
Fucking hell. The Caribbean… I could think of worse places to fall in love.
Peyton extended a pen to me too. “Just sign there at the bottom.”
“Of course.” I scribbled my signature and smiled as I handed the note back to him.
It was utterly juvenile and exactly what I needed now.
“Thanks.” He smiled back, pleased as punch.
That evening, I stepped out of the elevator and into my home with a screaming toddler and too much luggage, and I took one sweeping glance at my place and suddenly loathed it.
What had I been thinking when I’d agreed to that dining room table?
It was a bachelor pad from the eighties.
“Do you miss Peyton as much as I do?” I asked.
Julia wailed and pushed at me. “I don’t know!”
I sighed and set her down on the floor.
She planted her butt on the floor and smacked the floorboards. “I don’t wanna sit here, Daddy!”
Then why did she—Christ. “McDonald’s for dinner?” I suggested.
It didn’t stop her from sobbing her heart out, but she did nod.