a second. I finally made myself, though. Smoothed his hair back from his forehead and pressed a kiss there, then got up to quickly change into something that wasn’t soaked in cum and gather everything I needed for the aftercare I’d read about, before coming back to clean him up.
“Roll over, baby,” I said, one part of my mind quietly stuttering in shock about this actually happening, about getting to call Jordan my baby, having him naked on my bed, cleaning cum off him… cum that he’d shot out because of me.
But another part of my mind, the bigger part, just hummed with a kind of bone-deep satisfaction that felt better than if I’d already come myself, because this felt right. Like exactly what I’d always wanted but hadn’t known existed. Because sure, I’d known Jordan existed, but I hadn’t known how it would feel to be his Daddy. How could I have, when I hadn’t even known being a Daddy was a thing?
Once he was clean, I rubbed some lotion over his incredible ass and thighs, the red already starting to fade. I almost lost my self control at the way it made him sigh and melt for me, then push up for more when I took my hands away. But settling against the headboard and pulling him up into my arms was better than giving in to my dick, because Jordan Wendt, naked in my arms?
Heaven.
I pulled a fuzzy blanket over him and uncapped the water bottle I’d grabbed.
Was I risking a crippling case of blue balls? Yes.
Was taking care of him, putting him first and getting all this gorgeous compliance and unselfconscious neediness in return, worth it? Also yes.
“Be good and drink for me now, petal,” I said, my cock throbbing so hard when he shifted in my arms and rubbed against it that I had to bite back a moan. “Jordan,” I whispered when his eyes lazily drifted open, easily ignoring my own need as I got a little lost in the way he was looking at me. “You need… uh, you need to hydrate now.”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice still kind of slurred and slow from the afterglow.
He made no effort to actually move, though, and I grinned, kind of loving that.
No, definitely loving that.
Wow, I totally had a kink, and it was being Jordan Wendt’s everything.
I brought the bottle to his mouth.
“Drink for me,” I repeated, totally okay with the idea of Jordan needing me for this. Hell, hopefully needing me for everything, at some point. Because the reality of having Jordan in my lap? In my bed? In my life? Sure, there was still a lot I didn’t know about him as a person, and I definitely wanted to spend some quality time with him when we weren’t both naked—well, when neither of us was naked, I meant—but I already knew for sure that all the fantasies I’d ever had about him were… Jesus.
They weren’t as good as the real thing. Not even close.
But also? That connection I’d always fantasized about having with him, it felt real now. It felt like I actually had been able to tell what he needed... and damn, I’d given it to him, too. I knew I had. He’d let me in, let me take over, and it had been incredible.
“You were so good for me, baby,” I said, offering him sips as he drank. “You took that spanking so well.”
“’Sgood,” he said. “Was… hot.”
It had been more than hot. It had been perfect.
He finally finished the water and started to look a little more alert. But not much, and since it was already late…
“Do you want to stay, baby? Sleep here tonight? Let me keep taking care of you?”
He blinked, then suddenly got way more alert. “What? Uh, no,” he said, pushing away from me and scrubbing a hand over his face. “Shit, sorry. I, uh, I was out of it. I should… blow you? Before I go?”
I’d been so hard for so long that that should have been an easy yes, but instead, a feeling of sick disappointment spread through me. Which was ridiculous. Just because I’d spent years dreaming of some kind of epic romance with him and then had finally gotten the chance to get him off, didn’t mean he was suddenly ready to stay. Not in my bed, and not—if I messed this up—in my life, either. Not if the slightly panicky look on his face now was anything to go by.
He’d called