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“So, I’m Daddy again. Well, I guess I’m caring for you, sure, but it’s my fucking right.”
His lips were twitching as he tried so hard not to smile. “Daddy’s always in there, but Sir takes charge sometimes.”
“How’s your back and ass?”
“They hurt,” I said brightly, smiling to show him how much I loved the fact.
“You’re fucking crazy, but I love ya. Now, eat,” he said, pushing the bowl of oatmeal closer to me.
He’d set out a jar of his canned blueberries, a bowl with brown sugar, the regular sugar, butter, cream and cinnamon. “Didn’t know which you liked,” he explained as he saw me staring around at them.
“You’re really good to me, Noah. I mean it, though, I’m fine, but I appreciate the aftercare. Having you just holding me last night, watching that dumb movie, it was great. I loved it as much as the scene.”
“Me too,” he whispered as his head was ducked. “Gotta go to work,” he said, coming around the counter to kiss me squarely. “No acting up today.”
“No, Daddy. I’ll take it easy.”
“Good boy.”
He made me take it easy all week, but it was nice. He fussed over me every day after he came back into the house, rubbing cream on my rapidly disappearing wounds after the shower we’d share, and then we’d curl up on the couch, reading or bringing out the television again to watch movies. The evening air wasn’t great for sitting on the porch, but the couch was almost as good. At least we could sit close, and that was better than anything else.
Then, I guess he decided I’d had enough coddling, because I woke up a week after that morning with the oatmeal to a gleam in his eye that I was recognizing. Then, by my breakfast plate, there was the bell on the string. As I picked it up, with Noah watching me closely, I asked again, “Okay, why the bell?”
“You’ll find out when I’m ready to tell you.”
Good enough. I got it on my wrist and asked, “Can I maybe make you dinner tonight? You’re always cooking, or we cook together. Let me treat you.”
“If you feel like standing that long, sure,” he said, then came around to me to kiss my neck. “When you’re done eating, get in the barn.”
“No list of chores today… Sir?”
“Don’t push it or you’ll do a lot of chores naked with a dildo in your ass.”
I barked a laugh and straightened. “Yes, Sir. I mean… maybe no, Sir?”
He laughed too and sat on the stool next to me, drinking his coffee while I ate quickly, fruit and toast. I was getting used to the breakfasts on days when my Noah was in the mood for some kink.
“You healed enough from last time?”
“I am. A few bruises, but they’re faded. I know because I use the shower mirror to look into the vanity mirror.”
“I saw,” he said with a chuckle that was deep and sexy. “I’m ready to fuck the hell out of you, so no passing out this time, or whatever that is. I figure I’ll get off first and just beat the orgasm out of you.”
The fork dropped to the plate with a clang as I stared at him, his smirk telling me he knew exactly what that would do to me. “Noah…”
“Shut the fuck up and eat. I need to drain my balls and you’re just the cum dumpster I need for that.”
That did it. I was panting and laughing and trying to eat all at once. “You’re killing me,” I whispered between bites.
“No, nothing that serious, but gonna hurt ya.”
He left on that note, and I was on that stool, wriggling with the arousal that had taken over me so fully that my heart was pounding in my chest, my head was spinning. Then I remembered, Noah got some boxes delivered the previous day, and another couple the day before that.
“Shit. The stuff is in.”
I thought quickly about the things he had me choose, and remembered the soft bit for horses, the plug, the leather and… fuck…
“Chastity belt. Fucking hell…”
