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“You can call me Daddy. You can call me anything you want, but especially that.”
I rose back over his body, kissing him sweetly as he groaned and gripped my hair with one hand, holding me in the kiss. For my part, I held his other wrist down, shifted between his legs, and when he lifted his hips, I aimed toward his open asshole, thrusting the head of my cock inside with little effort.
Minty’s head went back, eyes fluttering. But when I stroked deeper, he brought his chin down, eyes on mine. He breathed, “You feel good, Daddy,” very softly, and with a honeyed sweetness that made me ache all over, like I’d rubbed sugar over my gums. “So good.”
He gazed up at me solemnly, pupils dilated, pink lips open, and his wet tongue peeking out. I was torn between watching him watch me and kissing him again. In the end, I settled for releasing my hold on his wrist and twining both hands into his hair, holding his head in place, demanding without words that his gaze stay on me.
Overcome with emotion and lust, I whispered a question that I hoped he knew how to answer. “Who’s fucking you, baby?”
“You are, Daddy,” he answered back, his cock leaping between us. “Daddy’s fucking me.”
“Mm, and who’s loving you?”
“Daddy is.”
I kissed his nose. “You feel so good, so hot and tight. Squeeze me. That’s it. Oh, baby, you’re so sexy, so incredibly hot.”
“You are too,” he said, keeping his eyes on mine, the blue rim of his irises nearly swallowed by his pupils. “Luke?”
“Mm?”
“Will you stay with me?”
My brain was too focused on the sweet tug of his rim along my shaft as I withdrew halfway, enjoying the squeeze, to process his meaning. “Here? I can stay here.”
“Okay,” he said, with a sigh that let me know I’d missed something, but I couldn’t figure out what right now. His hands gripped my shoulders, and his hips flexed up to meet my thrusts. “Daddy, please make me come.”
I kissed him again then. He sounded so desperate, so needy, and I sensed it wasn’t just because he wanted to shoot his load, but something else inside him too. I wanted to show him how it felt to have a man make love to him, to be a precious person in someone’s arms, gifted only with sweet pleasure and avoiding all pain. But when he nipped my lower lip, I pulled away, shocked, and stopped mid-thrust to grip his jaw hard.
“What was that?”
“I don’t know, Daddy,” he said, his hot, lust filled eyes glinting with mischief. “You tell me.”
I held still in him, letting my body weight immobilize him, forcing him to feel my cock halfway in his body. I enjoyed how he squirmed, trying to get more and failing. “This isn’t a scene.”
“I know.”
“We’re being loving.”
“Can’t you love me a little harder?”
I pondered his question and then moved my hand from his jaw down to his throat. He shook beneath me, as if that alone almost sent him over the edge. “My love isn’t good enough for you?”
“No, Daddy,” he whispered, his eyes gleaming as I gripped his throat harder. “I need more.”
I gritted my teeth, not liking my sub telling me what to do, of him thwarting my plans for our lovemaking. I’d imagined the scene—
Wait.
Scene.
This wasn’t lovemaking if it was on my terms. Then it was just another scene I’d designed, only coupled with the lie of me telling him it wasn’t.
“This the way you want me to love you?” I asked, tightening my hand on his throat and thrusting hard.
“Yes… It’s an action, not a feeling, right? So, love me harder.”
I tried to give us both what we wanted. A hand on his throat, and harder, sharper thrusts, while still kissing his mouth and cheeks with a soft fondness I’d never given him in a scene.
