Page 25 of A LIttle Christmas: Samm
His pec is squeezed so hard he might have bruises if he’s lucky, then a thumb brushes over his nipple, and he writhes on his Daddy’s lap.“So good, Daddy.”
He imagines kicking his feet in protest, trying to get away, imagines sobbing as he’s hauled back where he belongs, forced to endure every whim the man has.
“Good boy. I love it. Love knowing that you want it. Look at you. Your cock is hard and wet for me, and I fucking love that. I love that you’re practically bouncing on my cock you’re so fucking hungry for anything I want to give you. You naughty boy, why didn’t you tell me years ago that we could have this?”
“I’m sorry!” It takes a moment for the words to register, to realize what he’d apologized for.
“Shh, I know. Sweet boy.” And then he breathes in, and his voice is different. “I had no idea anything could be this perfect, Samuel. Already, just this. It’s fucking perfect.”
He whimpers, risks a crick in his neck because he needs to kiss every part of his Daddy that he can reach.
“I didn’t know you wanted this, Mr. Demarco. Daddy. Didn’t know we could have it,” his voice breaks, and he’s kissed and petted until he nods his head.
“It’s alright. Open the drawer, pumpkin. Daddy bought you a present.”
“Oh,” he gasps, because that’s a lot hotter than it should be. “Can I be pumpkin?” he asks, and Bryan laughs loudly, kisses him on the cheek like he’s proud of him. He rolls his chair forward so Samuel can open the drawer.
“Yes, you are now my pumpkin.”
“That’s hot.” He opens the drawer. It’s a stuffed animal. An octopus, to be exact. “Daddy?”
He’d hugged, his Daddy’s arms around his waist, the steady press of his back against his Daddy’s chest enough to make tears come to his eyes.
“The first Christmas party you attended was at the aquarium. Do you remember? We talked for twenty minutes next to the octopi, and you told me how you and your mother would go there before she got sick, that you had a book with ocean facts. You listed off five octopus facts from memory, and I remember thinking how cute it was. Adorable. It made me think you were young and innocent.”
“Really?”
“I swear. I chalked it up to your age, but that wasn’t it. It was this, you being a sweet little boy in need of a Daddy.”
Samuel reaches for the octopus, too emotional to speak. His Daddy’s hand stops him, settling over his and urging him to press his hand against the toy but not lift it.
“Do you want that toy, pumpkin?”
“Yes,” he whispers, and tears threaten to spill over. He doesn’t know why. It might be the perfection of the moment, the threat in his Daddy’s tone, the acknowledgment that some part of Samuel has always been seen and liked by this man.
“Good. I want you to have it. But a toy that nice isn’t free, you know. You’ll have to earn it. Do you want to be a good boy for Daddy and earn that toy?”
He’s so turned on he slides off the chair and turns around, buries his face in his Daddy’s groin, and breathes deeply. “Please, Daddy. Please, can I have the toy?”
“Fuck,” his Daddy groans, and he yanks his pants open, shoves down his underwear, and his cock is suddenly there, big and hard, red and weeping at the tip.
Samuel darts forward and licks at the wetness beading in the slit, needing to taste the man he’s fantasized about for years. “Fuck my face and come down my throat, Daddy.”
His Daddy groans, and then Samuel is sucking him into his mouth, taking him as deep as he can, eager to choke on his Daddy’s cock, to show him what he’s been missing. He wants to make the sex so good his Daddy won’t ever want anyone else.
“God damn. What a good boy. That’s right. Deep, baby. You making a mess on me? Are these good tears, pumpkin?” A hand in his hair drags him up and off his Daddy’s cock.
“What?”
“Are these good tears? I need to know, Samuel.” There’s so much concern on his face, in those deep brown eyes.
“Yes. Uh, you know about the stoplight system? Red is stop, etcetera?”
“Yes,” he says with a grin. “That did come up in my research.”
“There you go. If I don’t say yellow or red, we’re good. Also, this is super-hot, and whatever porn you watched or whatever you read — good job. A+ so far.”
“Did I ever tell you I graduated signa cum laude?” he whispers, lips twitching upwards as he tries not to grin.
