Page 41 of Ruined

“Okay,” he whispers. “I’ll try.”

“Good boy.”

He shudders, cheeks flushing at the praise. Curious, I reach down between his legs, and as expected, his cock has thickened again, his balls full and drawn up against his body. He stares at me, looking embarrassed, and the need to reassure him is impossible to ignore. Sliding down his body, I take him into my mouth, in awe that he can be horny again so soon. To be fair, I’m in awe that this is happening at all—that we met again after so many years, that he wants me, and that I’m allowing myself to do this.

“Oh shit.” He bucks his hips, body trembling, and it strikes me that he’s never had anyone do this to him before. Every experience is his first. I’m his first, and my responsibility is far from lost on me. I need to make sure he’s comfortable, that he’s feeling good at all times. Pleasuring my partners has always been something I’ve enjoyed, and with Oliver, I shouldn’t be surprised that I enjoy it more than ever before.

“Do you have another one in you?” I lick his slit, tasting the cum from his previous orgasm.

“I don’t—know,” he gasps. “Shit, that feels amazing.”

He bucks his hips again, and I let him fuck my face, humming at his taste and his needy whines. I swallow him easily, my nose buried in the tuft of pubic hair at his root. Like that, it doesn’t take long until he grasps my head, thighs trembling.

“Holy shit, I’m gonna come again. Ohh my God, Daddy…”

He fills my throat with his hot release, and I keep my mouth on him until he’s soft and pliant and until incoherent words spill from his mouth. Climbing over his body, I kiss his sweet mouth, letting him taste himself on my tongue.

Hovering over him feels wrong somehow. Too intense. He’s not tiny by any means—he’s rather average—but I’m so giant in comparison that I tower over him. With a grunt, I roll to his side and let him lie on my chest. He gives a pleased sigh, burying his face in the crease of my neck.

“You’re so soft,” he mumbles, hiking a leg up over my side to push himself closer.

“I’ve let myself go a bit.” While I’ve always been on the bigger side, with wide shoulders and big hands—big everything, really—I’ve put on a number of pounds in the last few years. I go to the gym on a regular basis, but I suppose I enjoy food too much to maintain a slimmer figure.

“What? No, I like it. I love it.” Oliver nuzzles into my neck, nose rubbing against my beard. “So soft and warm.”

“Wouldn’t you want me to have a sixpack?”

He shakes his head vehemently. “No—why would I want that?”

“It’s what most people like.”

He pouts. “Well, most people are idiots.”

I chuckle and ruffle his hair. “Come on. Let’s get up.”

“No,” he groans. “I don’t wanna.”

When I sit up, Oliver wraps his arms around my shoulders and clamps his thighs around my waist. As I stand up with a grunt and carry him into the kitchen, he hangs onto me like a baby koala, giggling in delight.

I put him down on the kitchen island and kiss him on the forehead, finding it hard to contain the warm feelings floating around in my chest and the overwhelming desire to give him everything he wants. There’s one thing I haven’t given him, I suppose, and the glint in his eyes as I make him a sandwich says it all. He’s waiting—somewhat patiently, like the good boy he promised to be—and I’ve always been terrible at denying him what he wants.

16. DADDY’S GOOD BOY

Soon. That’s what he said when he dropped me off at my place in the morning. Soon, he’ll buy the toys that will prepare me to take his cock. Soon, he’ll stretch me open and claim my hole. Soon.

It’s all I can think about as I go to work in the evening. I’m so scatterbrained that I fail to clear a table full of dirty dishes, and Guillaume doesn’t waste any time scolding me for it.

Soon. I hold that word in my mind as I load fancy wine glasses and plates into the dishwasher. Soon, I think as I ride my bike home. Soon, I think as I toss and turn in bed.

So many things have happened in such a short time. If I didn’t know better, I’d think last night was only a dream. I know it was real, though; I can feel it in the jittery excitement running through my veins, and when I replay everything in my head, I feel all warm and fuzzy.

He called me a good boy again. He made me come so many times. He let me hold his cock. He let me suck it. God, I can’t wait until he fucks me. I know it’ll be a challenge, with his size and my inexperience, but I also know he’ll be gentle—something I didn’t know when I was about to meet up with a stranger from a hookup app. Logan is always gentle, and he makes me feel so safe, like nothing bad can happen to me while I’m with him. He’s always made me feel like that, ever since I was a kid.

I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling, longing for him more intensely than ever. Without even thinking about it, I unlock my phone and go to our texts.

Me:

I can’t sleep.