Page 51 of Drag You Down
I want to be his little lamb. His boy.
I want all of it.
“Daddy,” I whisper, and Gabriel groans in turn, kissing me again.
Our erections rub against each other, and Iwillcome from this.
But I want more.
“Please,” I say when he breaks the kiss. “Can you… I know…”
How do I tell him my deepest desires, the strange thoughts that sometimes plagued me in the night. The shame I feel even mentioning it.
“Can I what?” Gabriel prompts. He reaches between us and strokes my cock gently.
I try to swallow my sounds, but a whimper escapes nonetheless. “The thing men do. When they… The sin of Sodom.”
I’m not prepared for Gabriel’s loud moan.
“You call me tempting, little lamb, but it’s you who’s tempting your Daddy,” Gabriel says. He leans in to suck on my neck. “I was going to wait, after you told me you’re unspoiled. But I would love to claim you like that.”
I want to know what it feels like.
I want to know what thissinfeels like, this sin they call an abomination.
I want to know why men do it anyway.
I nod, and I carefully reach up to touch him — his shoulders first, then down his arms before sliding them to his back. He’s undeniablymale, everything I’ve fantasized about so many times.
And he wants me to be his.
I think that maybe I want him to be mine, too.
Gabriel gives me one more brief kiss before he pulls away from me. I grip his shoulders to keep him in place, and he laughs but shakes his head.
“I need to grab the lube, boy. I don’t want to hurt you, especially not your first time.”
His thoughtfulness isn’t a surprise, not when he’s been so intent upon being gentle with me, and I watch him as he moves to the bedside table and opens the drawer.
I want to reach down and touch myself, but will he think I’m too lewd if I do? Too impatient? Will he change his mind about wanting me?
I grab the blankets instead, twisting the sheets in my hands, to keep myself from touching my erection.
Gabriel returns to me, this time settling between my legs. His large hands urge my thighs up. “Spread for me, boy. Show Daddy your hole.”
The crude word makes me blush, makes me hesitate, but even though it’s filthy, it’s titillating, too. I spread my legs more, trusting him despite the part of my mind that’s still coherent enough to question why I’m letting a man touch me — let alone a killer.
An avenging angel.
The Devil.
My Daddy.
I know there’s significance in his use of the wordDaddy, but I don’t understand it. All I know is that it suffuses me with warmth and comfort, even if I’m not sure what to make of all of this.
Of any of this.
“Like this?” I ask, biting my bottom lip.
