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I trusted him to know what he could take, and quickly, he was riding two of my thick fingers. His feet were planted on the mattress so he could fuck himself. The heat and tightness had my dick pulsing against his hip, and I hit the point of no return. I tasted every moan, every broken breath, and I needed to know what it felt like to sink into him. Own him.
He whimpered as I slipped between his thighs, opening the condom. With a shaking hand, I slid it down my length. Fuck, it had been so long, and as much as I wanted it to last, I craved him too much. I braced myself on my left hand beside his head, lined my dick up, and pushed, watching him take the thickness. His hands sunk into my love handles, and he shook so hard beneath me that he practically vibrated on the bed.
“Are you ready, baby?” He nodded as his heels sank into my clenched cheeks. I braced myself on my knees, my pace starting lazy and gentle. His hole clenched around my dick every time I retreated. He writhed and called Daddy repeatedly until he pushed his head into the pillows.
My dominance, and some would say brutality, took over, and I fucked him. Rocked his body beneath mine as I lowered my head to praise him for the way he was taking Daddy so deep. I pumped into him. I felt the tickle of sweat down the indent of my spine. I lowered to my forearm so I could fist his soft hair in my hand and buried my face against the side of his neck.
I licked and bit, ordered myself not to mark him, but the urge was too strong. Every whine or grunt, every time he told Daddy to fuck him harder and the pleading, it was like heaven and hell converged. On one side, I never wanted it to end. On the other, I wanted to mark him inside and out as mine. I changed the angle of my thrusts and heard his breath catch and stop completely.
I pounded his prostate in a feral rhythm as he hugged me tightly to him. He met me movement for movement, his wet, leaking cock grinding against my soft belly. Quickly I pushed upward and grabbed his dick, matching my strokes to the ones that were brutally rocking him on the bed. The pillow bunched above his head as I drove him higher.
His hips arched sharply off the bed, and he bore down on my dick, and that’s all it took. I slammed into him one last time, holding still as I emptied into the thin barrier, and he shot his release on his belly and chest. His hands fisted in the pillow as he shouted and ground his ass into the cradle of my hips and thighs.
I collapsed on top of him, frantically searched for his mouth with my eyes closed and kissed him. Our breaths were harsh pants from our noses. Shit, I was still hard and jerking inside him, and my cum covered hand squeezed his hip, hoping I’d leave bruises for him to remember me by for at least a few days.
“You were so good for me, baby. Made Daddy so proud.”
I gentled him with touch and words until I had no choice but to hold the base of the condom and slip free. I fell to my side and brought him with me. I smoothed his damp hair back from his face where strands had stuck to his forehead and temples.
My mouth brushed against his forehead, and I let him process. I wanted more nights like this. More dates and cuddles, time to make my boy crave me as much as I did him. Everything had happened so quickly, but it felt right. And I hoped like fuck he felt the same. I smiled as I heard a soft snore, and I shook my head as I rolled him to his back to find he’d fallen asleep as we cuddled.
I eased off the bed to get rid of the condom and to get a rag to clean us both. I hadn’t felt that good in years, and I wanted to relish it while I held my boy all night.
Chapter 8
Cass
* * *
As I collected the files I wanted to take home, I thought about the last six months that had flown by since Wyatt became my Daddy. After our first night together, I’d never looked back. It hadn’t always been easy, but together, we’d pushed hard and overcame every bump in the road. I’d always love and miss Martin, but with Wyatt, I was going deeper and doing more work on myself than I’d ever thought about doing with my late husband.
One of the first things Wyatt had helped me realize was how I hadn’t put as much distance between the trauma of growing up in an abusive home and my life now as I’d thought. On more stressful days, when I’d had a session with someone who was experiencing anything close to resembling what I’d escaped, I’d either collapsed into Daddy’s hands and given myself totally into his care or I’d become a control freak, sure that if I didn’t do everything a certain way and in a timely manner that my whole world would crumble down around me. It was those latter times that helped Wyatt identify that I still had some work to do. Those triggers were very real, and I needed help to learn to cope with them.
Wyatt’s suggestion that I join one of the groups dealing with abuse or find my own therapist was one of the things that I truly respected about him. As my Daddy, he offered all of the emotional and physical care that he was capable of, but he knew his own limitations and didn’t pretend that he could fix me. That talk had resulted in me trusting my care to him even more than before. I’d also been highly amused that I’d had to convince him that a visit to my life givers’ place of residence wasn’t necessary. He’d finally given in when I reminded him that he wouldn’t be much of a Daddy for me if he was behind bars. Silly man.
He also attended my grief counseling session with me now whenever he could get away from work on time. I appreciated his presence and strength beside me, and I loved him for never shying away from the love I’d had for Martin and the piece of my heart where he’d always reside. Wyatt never got jealous or worried that it took away from my commitment to him. Instead, he honored the man who’d been by my side before he’d come into my life and taken on the role of my doting lover. Having him with me during those sessions helped me process after the meetings and gave him the tools he needed to be there for me. It was more than I could’ve ever hoped for or expected in a partner.
The parts of my life I enjoyed best now were other things we did together. While he couldn’t commit specific time to the Outreach, he’d become my sounding board at home for the different programs I’d proposed to Boss. He also became the timekeeper of my schedule. Before Wyatt, Boss had worried I’d burn myself out, but those fears had been extinguished once he knew that my Daddy was keeping a strict eye on me. Honestly, I hadn’t thought anyone could be as on top of his boy and his behavior as Bart with Chance, but I’d quickly learned that the one thing Wyatt wouldn’t tolerate was me pushing myself too hard and ignoring my body’s need for food, relaxation, and sleep.
On the other hand, I’d been able to be there for him, too. His ex had really fucked with Wyatt’s head leaving him the way he did. I’d assured him time and again that he was attentive enough, and there was no hiding how attractive I found him. My body was going through some kind of second puberty, where just the smell of Wyatt’s cologne in the air made me harder than steel and ready for his big hands all over me.
It was when we took the step to move in together three months ago that he really started to shake the ghost of the ex. Wyatt told me that Loren had preferred to keep the Daddy-boy part of their relationship in the bedroom, so he’d been happily surprised by me. Not only did I refer to him as Daddy around the Outreach and to our friends, but once we resided together, the only time I wasn’t in boy-mode looking to my Daddy to make the decisions was when I was behind a closed door with a client. Now that I had Wyatt, a man who I trusted more than anyone on this planet to always put me first and to care and nurture me, I had no desire to keep trying to bear the weight of the world on my own narrow shoulders. No, thank you. He was much more suited for the task.
My phone vibrating on my desk pulled me out of my reminiscing, and I picked it up, smiling when I saw Greg’s name on the display. “Hello.”
“Hey, Cass. How are you?” I’d had my grief group today, and even though Greg knew that Wyatt went with me now, he still checked up on me afterward.
“I’m really good. How are you?”
Greg’s chuckle came over the line. “You know what’s awesome? Finally knowing that when you tell me you’re fine, good, or whatever other bullshit adjective you used to throw at me that you mean it now. I hated knowing that you were in pain and that there was nothing I could do about it.”
“I’m sorry, but…if it helps, knowing that you’d call afterward to check on me and that you’d have been there for me anytime always helped make those days bearable.”
“I’m glad,” he said, voice warm and sincere. “So, how come I’m not on speakerphone? I want to say hello to Wyatt.”
I bit back a laugh. “Boss was waiting for him in the hall after group today. He waited to make sure I was okay, and once he knew I was fine, he asked Wyatt to come help him and Bart move something around in the kitchen. I’m not really sure what they were doing, honestly.”
Greg snickered. “I guess that’s what happens when you’re dating one of the Outreach employees. A big man like your Daddy has to expect that they’re going to take advantage of him being around any chance they get.”
