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What. The. Fuck.
“Come on,” he says, waving me in, as if cuddles are what I want right now. Which, okay, maybe they wouldn’t be bad. But still. This is not what I thought was happening, and my dick hasn’t gotten the memo to cool the fuck down.
Deciding that okay, if Teddy wants to cuddle, he can feel exactly how excited I am to cuddle, I roll into him, head in the crook of his arm, my leg thrown over his and my dick poking his hip. I make sure to give a little wiggle, so there’s no way he can miss my bare, hard-as-hell excitement on his body.
He smirks. Smirks.
Well, fine. If he’s going to be like that…
The moment my hand slides toward my dick, Teddy’s arm tightens around me. “Don’t you dare,” he says in that low, calm voice, never once looking away from his book.
“Teddy, what—”
My follow-up dies on my tongue as Teddy’s gaze turns my way. “Did I say you could touch, doll?”
Oh shit. Shit. Teddy is in Daddy mode.
I feel momentarily faint as all of my blood rushes south. I manage to shake my head the tiniest bit. “No.”
“That’s right,” he says, eyes back on his book. “I take care of you, remember?”
My yes is a garbled moan.
“So be a good doll and keep me warm while I finish this,” he says, turning the page with his thumb.
My heart pounds heavily as I try to decode his meaning. “Um, what, uh…”
Teddy switches his book to the hand near my shoulder, keeping a hold of it as he grabs my hand that’s resting on his chest. He moves it slowly down his abdomen—happy trail bristling my palm—and under the band of his briefs. When we reach the base of his cock, I grip instinctually, and Teddy hums, letting go.
“Good doll.”
Holy fucking hell.
I swear I almost come. I’ve never—never—had anyone talk to me the way Teddy does. So sure. So in control. So confident I’ll do whatever he asks me to, as if he truly does own me. That’s what he said he wants, isn’t it? That’s what he meant that night at the club.
“I don’t want to fuck you, Kipp. I want to own you.”
Well, mission accomplished. Shouldn’t that scare me? Because all it feels like is the most amazing hug. Like strong, warm arms wrapped around me, cocooning me from the rest of the world. Protecting me.
The sound of Teddy flipping another page in his book is like a paintbrush caressing my skin. It sends a shiver down my spine, my hand squeezing Teddy’s cock reflexively. Fuck. I’m holding his cock. Just holding it. Why is that so goddamn hot?
The minutes feel like hours as Teddy makes me wait. Delayed gratification, maybe? I’ve never been very patient, but I’ve also never been so damn hard in my life, so maybe there’s something to it.
When Teddy’s fingers start stroking through my hair, I realize his book is gone, back on the shelf behind him. I must’ve zoned out. I meet his gaze, that molten brown, seeing nothing but approval there. It’s like static settling over my skin, a pleasant buzz. Teddy nudges me onto my back, rolling over my body. My hand never leaves his cock.
“None of them get to have you,” he repeats, fingers tightening in my hair like he’s holding a leash. “Tell me again, doll.”
“None of them,” I answer, my heart flitting, my mind calm. “I only want you.”
Teddy grins, and then he’s kissing me. He plucks my hand off his cock, putting it above my head. He collects the other, too, holding both of my wrists tight in his grip as he rubs against me, dick on dick.
As Teddy gets us off—whispering sweet words all the while about how I’m his precious babydoll, how I’m so perfectly good for him, how I’m beautiful and his—I float off into space.
“It’ll be okay,” Teddy assures me for the billionth time, his gaze finding mine in the mirror.
We’re meeting my parents in an hour.
I finger brush some product into my hair, trying to tame the strands. “My hair is getting too long.”
