My boy melts against me, a soft sigh escaping his lips as his arms wrap around my shoulders. The way he goes pliant never ceases to amaze me.
I pull back, not wanting to push him too far when his energy is low. The kiss isn’t for anything more than what it is.
Except Konnor doesn’t seem to like that. He huffs, leaning forward to meet my mouth again. This time, the kiss deepens instantly. His tongue sweeps against my lips. Normally I’d chide him for taking the lead, but something tells me my boy needs to feel some control.
Besides, as long as I get to have him, I don’t mind letting him do so every once in a while.
The tension in his shoulders begins to unwind under my palms. It’s a relief after seeing him so closed off.
I break the kiss, resting my forehead against his. Our breaths mingle. “I want to take care of you,” I whisper. “Let me take care of you. All of you.”
He nods, his eyes dark and trusting. “Please, Daddy.”
The word Daddy spoken in that hushed, needy tone, ignites a different kind of heat in my body. I stand and offer him my hand. He takes it, letting me pull him to his feet. I lead him to his bedroom.
His oasis.
His sanctuary.
The room is dark, but light from the hall spills across the bed. I don’t turn on the big light. No need to overstimulate my boy when I’ve gotten him to peel back some of those layers.
Instead, I guide him to stand at the foot of the bed and turn him to face me. My fingers find the hem of his t-shirt.
“Arms up.”
He obeys, lifting his arms, and I pull the shirt up and over his head. It falls soundlessly to the floor. His skin is painted in shadows. I trace one along his ribcage, unable to stop admiring how gorgeous he is. My boy shivers under the touch.
I discard my own shirt, then I undo the button of his jeans. I push them down, and he steps out of them, kicking them aside. He stands before me in just his simple black boxer briefs.
My mouth waters as I take him in.
After a few moments, I do the same, shedding my own pants. I have to force myself not to rush. There’s plenty of time.
Plus, I know he’s still a bit tired even if he wants to be intimate. I can’t overexert him.
I pull him against me, bringing us skin to skin, and allowing the heat from my body to seep into his. His head falls against my chest. My hands roam over his back, down his spine, over the swell of his ass.
He moans against my pec. “Daddy.”
“Yes, pretty boy?”
Mumbled words are all I get in reply. I chuckle, pulling him down onto the bed with me as I press another kiss against his lips.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I declare once I find the will to pull away.
I kiss my way down his body. Over the hollow of his throat, taking in the rapid beat of his pulse. Across the plane of his chest, where I swirl my tongue around one nipple, then the other, earning a sharp gasp.
My journey continues over his stomach as I follow the trail of dark hair leading down. I nuzzle there, against the fabric of his briefs. I can feel him hard and eager beneath.
His hips jerk up.
“Shhh, I’ve got you,” I soothe, hooking my fingers in the waistband. “Lift for me.”
He rises, and I slide the last barrier away. Now he’s fully exposed, beautifully erect, all flushed and leaking. I don’t take him in my mouth immediately. Instead, I kiss the inside of his thigh, making him squirm and whimper.
“Daddy, give me more. Make it all better.”
“I know what you need,” I say, my voice rough. I reach over to the nightstand and retrieve supplies. His eyes follow my every move. I slick my fingers, warming the gel.
