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It only took four little words to have me dropping to my knees to give him everything he needed. My hand wrapped around his cock, the length jutting out as if desperate for my attention.
I swept my tongue over the crown. "Fuck," I growled as his flavor moved through me. "I'd missed this pretty fucking cock. It's all mine, isn't it, baby? Daddy's toy to play with as he pleases."
Dante nodded quickly, his eyes watching me as his hand reached out to stabilize himself. I could already feel the tremble in his legs, and I knew it wouldn't be long before he lost all ability to remain upright.
Stretching my jaw wide, I swallowed his length as I kept my eyes locked with his. I was so long out of practice that it took more than a few thrusts forward for me to take him all the way. Each movement seemed to weaken his resolve more and more. My boy was trying to hold it together. I couldn't let him get away with that.
"I want to hear you, Dante. Give me those cries, precious boy. Daddy wants to hear you shout as you fuck my face," I told him as I pulled back. His eyes turned into two dark pools of desire as he gave me a nod and shakily placed one hand on my head.
His hips moved forward gently, as if he was worried he'd hurt me. I used to love having him bruise my throat, and though I could admit to being out of practice, I would fucking die before I let him get away with not taking what he needed.
I reached up behind him, my hands gripping his ass to push him forward. He frowned as he let me lead. It wasn't until I moaned around his cock that he realized I wanted more.
"Daddy wants me to fuck his mouth?" he asked timidly.
I nodded around his length as I fought the urge to reach down to relieve the pressure in my cock. Whatever he saw in my expression sent him over the edge. His hand sank into my air as he pulled back and thrust forward. I gagged, then took a deep breath as I prepared for more.
Fuck it. Let him gag me. Let me choke.
I didn't fucking care so long as he kept going.
"Shit! That feels so good, Daddy. Your mouth... oh god. I missed it so much. I missed you. I'm close... so close..." He babbled mindlessly as he kept a steady pace. I relaxed my jaw, letting him take whatever he wanted from me. He could have it all, because without him, I was nothing.
I'd finally found him, and I'd be damned if he didn't get every piece of me. I wanted him so obsessed he never wanted to leave me again, no matter how bad the threat.
"Daddy!" he wailed as his cock pulsed, the length growing as his cum spilled down my throat.
I sucked and sucked until he was pushing me away. Even then, I chased him back against the wall to run my face all over his crotch like I was trying to fucking drown in his scent. I played with his balls and licked his taint.
By the time I managed to get him clean and get us out of the shower, the water was long since cold. I pulled him into the bedroom, then tugged clothes out from the drawers. "Pants only. No underwear or shirt. I want easy access to you always," I demanded as I knelt to hold out a pair of sweatpants for him to step into.
Once I pulled them up, I squeezed his ass to pull him closer to me. I was still very much naked, and there was no denying I got hard when taking care of him. It's why me being his Daddy made sense all those years ago and why it still made sense now that we were back together.
"How do spaghetti and meatballs sound?" I asked him even though I knew the answer.
His eyes lit up as he bounced on his toes. There's my boy.
"Yes, Daddy! Sounds yummy!" He pressed a kiss along my jaw again, then added another hickey to the collection he was building. I'd be a mix of purple and blue before long with the way he couldn't seem to stop.
I slipped on my own pants, then led him to the kitchen. "Take a seat here, baby," I said as I patted one of the high stools.
Dante climbed right up, then leaned on one elbow to watch me cook. It was nice to know his eyes were on me as I went through the steps of making the pasta. Neither of us spoke, though it wasn't awkward. There wasn't a need for words just yet.
Food. My boy needed food.
Then he'd nap and we could talk more after that. We could plan, and I could figure out just what I needed to do to ensure he would remain mine forever. I wasn't going to let him go without a fight.
Dinner didn't take long. In the past, I would have gone out of my way to make everything from scratch, a task my boy appreciated greatly. But given our time constraints and the fact that he needed to rest, I went for the easy store-bought route.
"Here you go," I told him as I handed over the bowl of food. I'd sliced the spaghetti into manageable bites, and the meatballs were cut into quarters. Everything could be eaten with a spoon, just the way he preferred.
His eyes went glossy when he noticed. "Thank you, Daddy. It's been a really long time since I've had it the way I liked best."
"Eat up." I motioned to the bowl instead of replying to his statement. I didn't want to go into it again about how he'd been gone before. It was something I'd lived with for far too long, and though it haunted us, I didn't want to dwell on the idea any longer.
Two bowls of noodles later, my boy was a yawning mess. I knew we had so much more to discuss, but it would wait. I would wait.
Guiding him to the bedroom, I eased him onto the bed and pulled back the blanket. Once he was tucked in good, I went to the dresser to open the drawer. I'd hidden something away earlier in my bag, and when I'd unpacked, I'd kept one drawer free for this specific thing.
