Page 77 of Fixate
“Let’s begin,” I said with as even a tone as I could. “Count as we go.”
The first hit was the same intensity of the single blow I’d given him. He held still, mumbling out, “One” loud enough for me to hear. I grinned, then went again.
“Two.” Swat.
“Three.” Swat.
“Four.” Swat.
This repeated on and on until I hit ten. My boy’s body began to tremble then. It could have been because of the adrenaline of the hits. Or it could have been because he knew he was close to getting the one thing he wanted: my cock.
I ran a hand over his pink cheeks, careful not to press too hard. Then I took a path down his spine until I could reach the back of his neck. Squeezing it once, I waited for his body to ease its movements.
When he was still, I asked, “Are you ready for the final one?”
He couldn’t nod with the grip I had. Forced to speak, he answered with a choked voice. “Yes, Daddy. Please.” Then, in a softer tone, “Please.”
My heart damn near exploded. Fuck, did I love hearing him beg.
I took my hand away, then delivered the final blow. The second I pulled away, two things happened at once: My boy cried out with a whine so loud my cock wept, and I shifted him to the middle of the bed so I could rapidly strip my clothes away.
“Daddy is going to take care of you,” I said as I tore at the fabric. “You’re going to be so full and happy in a second. You’llwant to ride my cock every morning and every night. I’ll have you addicted.”
He turned to his side, which gave him a chance to look at me while I worked my clothes free. Why wouldn’t these fucking things come off any faster?
His smile tugged at me, practically begging me to declare how much I loved him and to make him mine forever. It was a fucking irrational thought. One I couldn’t entertain with all the shit we still had going on.
But I couldn’t deny how much he meant to me already.
This thing between us had been building for far longer than others thought.
I climbed onto the bed until I hovered over him. The toys he’d purchased were lined up beside us, a mockery of my actual cock. Not one of them came close to matching me perfectly. A fact I was truly ok with because it meant when he had me, I’d be unique to him. He’ll have never felt anything of my size before.
And he never will again.
The possessive voice inside me was determined to make me into a pathetic, needy Daddy at this rate.
I grabbed the lube from his nightstand and covered us both. My fingers trailed over his puckered hole as I pictured him taking each of these toys to bed. He’d worked himself open to be ready to take me. They weren’t my enemy. If anything, I should be happy he went through all that trouble to be able to open his body up.
“Fuck, Daddy,” he whined when my finger slipped inside.
The digit was sucked in greedily, his body eager to be filled. I raised my brows, though he couldn’t see me. My boy had turned to the bed, burying his face as if it would mute his cries of pleasure.
I added more fingers to be sure, but by the time I eased the third in, and he wasn’t begging me to stop, I knew there was noneed to wait any longer. Lining up with his body, I pushed my way in with a patience I did not feel.
If anything, I wanted to force my cock deep enough he’d feel it for days while I left a trail of marks along his neck to show anyone he came in contact with how well taken care of he was. I wanted to pound into him until he couldn’t walk right. Wanted to have him crying and begging, unsure if he was asking me to stop or to keep going.
The rush of my thoughts had me bottoming out on the first stroke. I threw my head back, groaning at the tight feeling of him around me.
I couldn’t move.
Couldn’t fucking breath.
Heaven. He was goddamn heaven on earth.
This ass was mine. From now on, I owned it. I owned him. And he owned me. My dick was never going to get hard again for anyone else. I knew that as well as I knew my own name.
“Mon chou,” I whispered reverently.
