He doesn’t break eye contact at all during the whole exchange.
“Mmm,” he repeats emphatically, licking his lips before toying with the bottom one between both rows of his perfectly white teeth. “Yours tastessogood, Daddy.”
Somehow, I know we’re not talking about dessert anymore.
Leaning back, he glances down coquettishly, presumably indicating his plate but when he waves his hand vaguely, it looks like he’s gesturing to his crotch. “Wanna taste mine?”
Well, I guess the brat is back.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Corner time,” Kris says before the front door to his apartment has even closed behind us. Flipping on the overhead light from the switch by the door, he points in the direction of the tastefully decorated living room. “Now.”
A shiver of anticipation races up my spine, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how badly I crave this. The discipline. The Daddy/Boy dynamic. The relief of not having to hold it all together in front of him.
Instead, I widen my eyes and allow my mouth to form an ‘o’ of surprise. “Why, Daddy?”
Kris snorts. “You teased me through dessert, ran your foot up my leg when the server came to give us the check, and then you keptaccidentally”—his emphasis of the word, complete with raised eyebrows, tells me just how much he believed me— “feeling me up when we walked back to our cars.”
“There was a fly on your butt,” I defend my actions half-heartedly, working to maintain my innocent façade. It’s harder than expected with Kristian. Maybe it’s the excitement of what’s to come that is making it more difficult to keep up the charade.
“Yousqueezed, Benji.”
“I was feeling the fabric.”
He snorts again. “And when you touched my dick?”
“There was a loose thread near the zipper.”
“Twice?”
“It was a stubborn thread.”
He just tilts his head to the side, folding his arms across his chest. My heart thumps rapidly inside my own. Even without speaking, he’s got the ‘Daddy tone’ down pat.
“Corner,” he finally repeats, pointing to the space beyond the gray linen couch. “Three minutes.”
I huff dramatically, adding a pouty “Fine” for good measure, even though inside my heart is soaring. Crossing the room, I try to take in as much of the space as I can before my nose is practically affixed to the point where the two white walls meet.
Behind me, I hear the rustle of fabric, the clink of a belt being undone, and the dual thuds of shoes being shucked and kicked aside. Slyly, I turn my head, trying to see what Kristian is up to. He tsks.
“Nose to the wall, Benjamin.”
I contemplate disobeying, but I don’t want to be a complete brat tonight. He’s seen that side of me before. Now’s my chance to prove that I can behave when I want to. And, unsurprisingly, I want to behave for Kris. Well, at least right now. If all goes the way I hope it will. I’ll have forever to be his adorable bratty boy.
“Good boy,” he compliments what feels like an eternity later. “Time’s up. You can come cuddle now.”
I turn around with relief, a strange sense of pride warming my chest as I make my way over to the couch. Kris sits tucked into onecorner, his shirt partially unbuttoned from his neck, and his socked feet propped on the coffee table. He pats the cushion beside him.
“Come here, sweetheart.”
I don’t race over, but it’s a near thing. Instead, I toe off my own shoes and undo the first few buttons of my own shirt, then I plop down at his side and practically sink into the couch, and his warm body.
“Thank you for coming home with me,” he speaks after an extended moment where I’m sure we’ve both just enjoyed the peace of finally being alone together. “And for coming to dinner, too.”
“I’ve been daydreaming about it for ages,” I admit, feeling my cheeks heat. It’s not like we haven’t already talked about our growing feelings for each other on the phone, but it’s a whole new experience to do it in person. “Dinner was perfect. Corner time was perfect.”
His fingers slide up the back of my head and gently caress my scalp. If I was a cat, I’d be purring. “Yeah?” he asks. “You liked the corner time? Maybe I need to come up with better punishments.”
