Page 69 of Ruined

After dinner, we move to the sofa and put on a movie. At least, we planned to put on a movie. Nico and Luca fight over which one to pick, and eventually, they give up and throw the remote to Logan and me.

We’re lying on the end of the L-shaped couch, allowing us to stretch our legs. Logan has his arm around me, and I’m cuddling into him, not really caring which movie we end up with. I’m with Daddy; that’s all that matters.

“How about this one?” he asks, nodding at the TV.

“That one’s old,” Luca says.

“Not as old as him,” Nico snickers with a glance at Logan, and I send them a look. Nico waves a hand. “Not that we mind. It’s kind of hot.” I raise a brow at that, and Nico grumbles, “I mean, I get it.”

Luca elbows Nico in the side. “We’re the last people to judge someone’s preferences. Right, Nico?”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re one to talk.”

“Like I said, we’re the last people to judge.” He glances at Logan. “You’re safe with us.”

“Thank you,” Logan says, voice thick, and I tighten my grip on his arm.

As we watch the movie, I feel calmer than I have in ages. I don’t have the low-grade anxiety that always seems to be present, even when I’m snuggling into Logan’s warm embrace. After a while of trying to pinpoint why, I realize the answer.

This whole evening with the twins, I’ve felt like we’re just another couple—not forbidden lovers, not a secret needed to be hidden behind closed doors. I can tell Logan’s thinking about something, though. He doesn’t seem focused on the movie, and his fingers stroke my hand absentmindedly.

“Where do you want to sleep?” he asks during the end credits.

“Here,” I mumble into the crook of his arm.

“In your room?”

“Yeah.” When he doesn’t reply, I realize he’s unsure if I want him to go home or stay here and sleep in my bed. The answer should be obvious as far as I’m concerned. “Want to sleep with Daddy,” I whisper, and a pleased sound rumbles deep in his chest.

“Let’s go get ready.”

Reluctantly, I untangle myself from his embrace and go take a shower and brush my teeth. The twins have gone off to their rooms, so I only wear a towel when I pad out of the bathroom. When I open my bedroom door, Logan’s sitting on my bed.

In some ways, it feels weird to have him here, in a place that looks quite similar to my childhood room back at Mom’s. Action figures line my desk, just like they did back home, and the green light from my PC dances on the walls, breathing in and out.

Logan seems to think the same; he hasn’t undressed yet, and he runs a hand over the sheets, lost in thought. I stand in front of him and let the towel fall.

His eyes dart up, hands drifting to my bare hips, though he still looks hesitant. “What about the twins?”

“We’ll be quiet.” Even if we’re not, I doubt they’ll care. “Please, Daddy. I need you.” I climb into his lap, my naked cock pressing up against his clothed crotch. I’m already hard and so, so needy for him.

“Oh, Oliver.” He looks at me with a crease between his tilted brows, almost like the time I sat in his lap in his apartment, weeks ago. His grip around my waist doesn’t tremble now, though, and he doesn’t look as tormented as he did then.

He still seems to need me to show him that this is okay, though. If it’s about the twins or the similarity between this room and the room I grew up in, I don’t know.

I take his hand and lead it toward the place where I’m aching to be filled by him. “Need you here, Daddy. So empty.”

His breathing grows strained as he strokes a finger over my hole. His touch is so light, so gentle. “We don’t have any toys.”

“Just use your fingers. I have lube. Please, Daddy.”

When he presses his finger harder against me, I moan and roll my hips, dragging my cock over the outside of his pants. He’s as hard as me, but he’s still holding himself back. Tilting his face to mine with a hand on his cheek, I press my lips to his. He sighs through his nose and parts his lips, allowing me to slide my tongue into his mouth.

When his tongue meets mine, our kiss turns hot and wet and desperate. I whine as he strokes my hole, two fingers now, up and down my crease. God, I want him inside me so badly I can barely breathe. After one more roll of my hips, one more eager gasp against his mouth, he growls under his breath and lifts me off the bed, hands on my hips while I clamp my legs and arms around him.

He lays me down on the mattress, still kissing me, and I rub my leaking dick along his thigh. Even though he’s still wearing clothes, I can’t help myself.

“Good boy,” he murmurs, cupping my cheek and rubbing his thumb over my lips. “Always so needy for Daddy.”