Exposed Exposed (Dom Nation #1) - E. Davies Page 0,79
the ecstasy that awaited at the end. And this was just the foreplay.
I lived for his shallow breaths, the tiny grunts of pain and pleasure, and the rocking of his hips as he swayed forward with the impact of each blow, then fell back onto his heels again.
“Please,” Slate gasped, and I nearly stopped breathing to hear better. “Please, Daddy.”
Oh, those two words could have been spoken as a joke, but not right now. They came straight from Slate’s subconscious, finally free to run rampant. They were perfectly chosen to reverberate straight through me.
“Yes, boy?” I brought my palm down hard, across both cheeks.
“Agh!” Startled, he jumped onto his toes and squeaked. His breathing heaving, he settled onto his feet again. “Ow, it hurts.”
“What hurts, my boy?” I circled him, standing directly behind him now as I ran my hands from his lower back over his ass, squeezing gently on my way past, then tickled his thighs with my fingertips.
Slate’s gasp became a squeak of protest, but his whole body vibrated as he fought to hold still. “M-My cock, Daddy. It’s so hard.”
Oh! He remembered! I grinned, gliding my hands up his upper thighs as I stepped closer. I rocked my hips into his, pressing the hardness in my trousers against his thighs and grinding until sparks shot straight into the pit of my belly. “Is it?”
“F-Feel it yourself,” Slate begged. “I swear. It’s too tight. Can I get it out?”
I didn’t want to spoil him. I liked the idea of keeping his swollen shaft confined a little longer, but he was demonstrating his lesson already learned so well…
“All right,” I whispered, rolling my hips in slow, fluid movements to drag my hard length back and forth along his thighs. Already, I could imagine our bodies heaving together without clothes in the way, my cock buried to the root inside him.
His body hot and tight, squeezing around my shaft as he whimpered and begged for more. Thrusting into the slick little hole, my nails biting into his neck to keep him pinned on the bed. Slamming against him, pounding him fast and hard to satisfy my own urges while he begged for mercy…
Fuck. I reeled at the intense visions dancing in front of me. My carefully developed patience threatened to unravel with this boy under my hands. Slow down there, Rex.
My fingertips danced along his waistband until I embraced him around the waist. I peeled his shirt off, tearing at the buttons until they gave way. I unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, then tugged them down. In one fluid movement, I knelt and helped him step out of them, then tossed them aside. One sock at a time came off next.
Almost there. The view got better and better, but I was hungry for more.
Slate’s bare thighs were covered in dark fuzz, strong as tree trunks yet trembling under the slightest touch. He stood perfectly still, letting me inspect the curves of his ass in his tight, navy blue boxer briefs.
“Gorgeous, boy,” I breathed out. “You make Daddy so hungry.” I squeezed that round bottom again, pushing the cheeks apart and stretching the fabric just over where I knew his tight little hole awaited. I could just imagine it pulsing and fluttering with the anticipation that lent every moment a crisp, desperate edge.
“Need you, Master X,” he moaned, his butt flexing under my touch. He flinched and trembled, like he was afraid of the very desires that heated his blood. “Daddy. My Daddy.”
Christ. My throat went tight again with some unfamiliar emotion—a sort of tender viciousness, like I loved him so much that I needed to break him apart to prove it.
It was terrifying, yet impossible to escape. Sucking me in, a maelstrom of the parts of me I’d locked away for so long. They mingled within me now, as this moment unfolded. There was no tearing them apart or denying them. No more.
“I’m here, my boy,” I breathed out. Tearing myself away from the hot glide of his smooth back against my palms was like Velcro mixed with superglue. But I had to, for both of our sakes.
I wasn’t done yet. I needed to see the impact of my fingers on Slate’s skin the way I felt the impact of my words on his soul.
When I stepped to the side again, the erection straining at the front of Slate’s underwear was impossible to miss. So were the reddened marks along his upper thighs where I’d laid a few well-placed swats.