Page 73 of My Family

He lifts me up and pulls me into his lap, cradling me. He kisses my forehead, and the tears stop almost instantly, like a switch.

"I love you," he says. "Even when you're a brat."

I laugh, the sound muffled against his shirt.

"Especially when I'm a brat."

He holds me.

We sit like that for a long time, until the pain fades into a warm, throbbing glow.

"Next time," he says, "you tell me. When you're scared, when you're angry, when the bad thoughts are louder than the good ones. Tell me."

I nod against him.

"You don't have to carry it alone. And you don't have to make me hurt just so I understand that you're hurting."

That one gets me.

"I'm sorry."

"I know." He kisses my hair. "I'm sorry I've been away so much. But I'll always come back."

"Yes, Daddy," I say.

And I mean it.

I do.

He brushes his thumb over my cheekbone, wiping away the last tear.

"Lie back down," he says, and his voice is different now.

I go willingly, sinking back across his lap, my bare ass still stinging but my cock aching worse.

He runs his hand over the curve of my back, then lower, tracing the line of my spine.

"You need to learn how to ask for what you want," he murmurs.

His finger slides between my cheeks until it finds the spot that makes me clench.

I gasp. "Daddy…"

"Shh."

He spits into his hand, rubs it over my hole, and circles it with a single finger.

"You like this, don't you?"

His other hand wraps around my cock, stroking me slowly, the rhythm matching the pressure behind.

He pushes the tip of his finger in, not all the way, just enough to make my breath catch. I arch for him, needy and desperate.

"Good boy," he says.

He pushes deeper, crooking his finger so I see stars. My hips jerk and he laughs.

He works me open slowly, carefully, and the whole time he keeps his grip on my dick, stroking me with just enough pressure to keep me on the edge.