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“I see you’re still too damn far away.” I pet the spot beside me. I don’t know why I suddenly feel so confident but it isn’t the first time I’ve surprised myself when around Finn. “Come here.”
“Say please and I might consider it.” He cocks his head.
I fight back the urge to beg, shoving down the need to crouch on the bed like a good bird. I don’t want to scare him away so soon by coming off too needy and fast.
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I won’t let you eat your breakfast off me.”
My mouth is salivating. “So you’ll let me starve.”
“I didn’t say that. You’re welcome to get out of bed and fix your own plate.”
“Or?”
“I can bring it to you in bed, serving it to you on my chest, and after you peck it all up, you can thank me for the food I made you by servicing my cock, and I’ll take you on an ice cream date afterward. What’s it gonna be, pipsqueak?”
“I want…” I lick my dry lips. “I want the second option.”
He nods in understanding, his expression switching from playful to stern. “Okay, but before this all can happen, you have to use your manners.”
My throat tightens and a shiver runs down my spine. “Please.”
“Please what?”
“Please, Sir.”
His face beams with pride, causing my chest to swell. “That’s my good love bird. You wait right here while I grab your food.”
“Are you going to eat with me?” I ask, before he can fully turn around.
“I ate while you were sleeping but saved you half of my bacon. We’ll have lunch and dinner together though. I promise.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re welcome, baby. I’ll be back.”
Turning away from me he walks out the door; the muscles in his ass tighten with each stride of his slender, toned legs. Oh yes, he’s nice all the way around. From head to toe. If I eat off his chest this morning, will he allow me to feast off his cock during lunchtime? My tip leaks as I imagine shoving my tongue between his cheeks as a reward for later. I’ve loved rimming my previous Doms and partners, but they haven’t always been fans of it. Will he be? If so, maybe it can also be a punishment. He can ride my face until I’m struggling to breathe so badly, I’m tapping out and gasping for air when he finally lets up.
The more brutal the punishments, the sweeter and more satisfying the aftercare is. Strict is good and so is gentle, but the mixture of both? Chef’s kiss. So far he has shown signs of being everything I could ask for in one person. He seems so perfect, it scares me.
“Back,” he shouts before entering the room, holding a plate of what looks like cut up pancakes and bacon. “You hungry, love bird?”
I nod enthusiastically, tossing the covers to the side to make room for him. His laughter is a deep rumble that goes straight to my cock.
“Are you already slipping into dove space?”
“Yes.” My vocabulary is lessening and bigger words don’t know how to find their way out of my mouth. I nudge at the closet with my head. I don’t need my wings or mask on when I’m preparing for bed but I like at least one or the other while fully awake.
“Is there something you want from there?”
I bob my head and spin in circles on my knees as he walks to the closet.
“Fuck, you’re adorable when you’re excited.” He chuckles softly and opens the closet. “Are you wanting your wings?”
“Coo, coo.” I spin around again and he pulls my harness from the closet.
He doesn’t take long to come back to me and helps me slide on my gear. If he really does stay as long as he says he will, then maybe I can wear all of it for him during playtime. He fastens the straps and adjusts my wings behind my back.
