“Tell me how much you want my cock.”
“Fuck me. Please fuck me. I need to feel your cock in me,” Baran begged, needing the connection.
Daddy Darien reached for the lotion on the nightstand. He pinched the tube, allowing it to fill his hand, then he lubed Baran’s opening. He inserted one finger and stretched him, then another. He feathered his fingers over Baran’s ass and down the back of his thighs, sending chills throughout Baran’s body.
“That lotion is cold,” Baran said, shuddering.
“But you’re so damn hot, Baran.” He kissed Baran’s back, then slipped his tongue in and out of his mouth and drove Baran crazy.
“Please. Fuck me,” he panted.
Daddy Darien ignored him. He added a third finger and played more. Baran arched his ass up to meet his next fingering thrust. Daddy Darien seemed to enjoy toying with him until he decided when to fill him. He removed his fingers.
He cupped his hand beneath Baran’s bottom, tilted his hips, and began with a slow rhythm. Picking up his pace, he pounded hard, causing Baran’s body to jerk up and down. Darien hit his prostate repeatedly, then he tilted Baran so he could wrap his hand around Baran’s pulsating hard-on. Stroking Baran’s brick-hard cock at the same tempo, he pumped in and out. Baran trembled as he tightened his tunnel muscles around the steel dick. The warm semen in his balls tried to flow up out of him, and he couldn’t fight it as his body trembled. He tried desperately to hold back his climax, but suddenly his cum spilled out of him onto Daddy Darien’s hand.
“Fuck. Fuck,” Baran screamed.
Daddy Darien banged him so hard the headboard hit the wall and the pictures crashed to the floor, making a loud noise.
“Oh God, oh God, oh, feels so good.” Daddy Darien’s body strained with the force of his orgasm. Baran continued to milk him dry in his condom.
Daddy Darien handed Baran tissues to clean himself while he tied off the condom and wiped himself with a tissue. Baran felt a warmth in his heart as they prepared to settle in for the evening. The hotel room was quiet, the soft glow of the Christmas lights casting a cozy ambiance through the window. They decided to watch a Christmas movie before sleep, a perfect end to their festive day.
As Darien adjusted the pillows on the bed, Baran pulled their blanket over them. “Daddy Darien, I wanted to tell you something.” Baran took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his emotions. “I just wanted to say how grateful I am for everythingyou’ve done for me. You’ve given me so much—love, support, and a sense of belonging. I’ve never felt this way before.”
Daddy Darien’s eyes softened, and he reached out to take Baran’s hand. “Baran, you mean the world to me. I’m so glad you’re here with me. You’ve brought so much joy into my life. I love you.”
Baran felt tears of happiness welling up in his eyes. “I love you too, Daddy Darien. More than words can express.”
Daddy Darien gently squeezed Baran’s hand, his voice filled with affection. “Every moment with you feels like a gift. I can’t wait to spend many more Christmases together.”
Baran smiled through his tears, feeling a deep sense of peace and contentment. “Me too. I can’t imagine my life without you.”
As they snuggled together under the blanket, the movieHome Alonebegan, filling the room with another type of warmth. Baran leaned his head on Daddy Darien’s shoulder, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat. In that quiet, intimate moment, surrounded by the magic of the holiday season, Baran knew he had found a love that would last a lifetime.
With Daddy Darien by his side, he felt ready to face whatever the future held.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Darien
In the morning, Darienand Baran returned home from the hotel, took a shower together, then went to the shelter. They made their way into Darien’s office.
Darien adjusted the paperwork on the small worn table in the shelter’s cramped office. Baran leaned against the wall nearby, arms crossed but eyes watchful, letting Darien take the lead as usual.
“Bring a chair and sit with me.”
Baran carried the chair and sat beside Darien.
They only had three spots left in the shelter, and Darien didn’t take the responsibility of the interviews to come lightly. Darien wanted to show Baran the ins and outs of interviewing new men who needed shelter.
The first applicant shuffled into the room, shoulders hunched. His name was Sam, a wiry man in his late twenties with shaggy brown hair and a nervous energy. He sat down, fidgeting with the fraying edge of his jacket.
“Tell me about yourself, Sam,” Darien began, his tone calm but probing.
“I…I’ve been on the streets for about six months now,” Sam replied, voice shaky. “I lost my job, and then my apartment. Couldn’t keep up with anything after that.” He hesitated, glancing at Darien nervously. “I heard about your shelter from someone. They said, uh, you’re a safe place for guys like me.”
Darien nodded slowly. “Guys like you?”
