Page 44 of Imperfect Skin

“Yeah, it is. Do you want me to get some of Doc’s booty balm for you?” I couldn’t keep the smile out of my voice

Mouse shook his head against me, snorting. “It’s a funny name. But not yet. I want to feel it for a little while.”

“Now, do you want to talk to Daddy about why you got so angry?” I asked, hugging him against me.

Mouse buried his face against my neck, his fingers playing with the buttons of my shirt. I cupped his bottom and squeezed the flesh, earning a whimpered, “Daddy, don’t. You’ll get me hard again.”

“I can and will. This bottom belongs to me. Now, are you going to answer my question?”

Mouse spoke, not looking up at me. “I don’t know. I think I was afraid. I’m sorry for how I acted.”

“Apology accepted, but why were you scared? Were you afraid of me?” I rubbed a soothing hand along Mouse’s back, careful to avoid his wounds.

“No, not of you. Never you. I was scared of this. That if I did something wrong it would all vanish, and then I got angry at the thought of losing this before we even started, and then I was mad at you for making me feel so good.”

“Those are a lot of feelings, and all of them make sense.” I cast my eyes down to see Mouse had stopped hiding his face in the crook of my neck and was looking at me, his dark eyes red-rimmed but clear.

He tilted his head. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything, lamb.” I kept running my hands over his skin, hoping the contact would help centre him.

“You’re not a Daddy.” He let out a soft chuckle at my arched brow. “No, I don’t mean you’re not my Daddy. I mean kink-wise, you aren’t like Simon.”

“You’re right. I’m not. I’ve done some scenes where I was a stern Daddy for a naughty boy or girl, but I was always more interested in the extremes. Pain is a big turn-on for me—well, helping give a sub that pain is. I love rope play but I’ve never been as into it as some of the Masters at Crimson.” I brought my hand up to caress Mouse’s cheek. “But with you, I’ve found I want to explore something different, as well as help you get to know your masochist needs.”

“I want that. This side of me where I want to let go and just be your little Mouse, it’s not new, but I’ve never let anyone really see it except for Rhys. Even then, I was careful. I’m not like Rhys. I don’t want bottles or nappies. I can see how much he enjoys them, but I want something different. I don’t want to always be a good boy. I want to be naughty and throw tantrums because I know with you, I’d be safe.” He took a deep breath. “But I also want you to hurt me in ways I’ve only dreamed of. I want to wear your marks and look at them and think ‘Yeah, I matter. My Daddy gave them to me.’”

Gripping his face, I pulled him closer. “You matter, and I will give you all the marks you could ever need. If you need me to spank your arse every morning before we go to work to remind you that your Daddy cares and you are mine, then I will gladly do it.” I nipped Mouse’s lips and pulled away. “If you need me to flog you and force you down on your knees, Daddy promises to give you that. And if you need me to cuddle you and help you colour and watch the damn Hobbit a million more times, I’m your man.”

“And Lord of the Rings,” Mouse countered, smiling.

“Hmm. Has nothing to do with the crush you have on Aragorn,” I teased, kissing him again before he could answer me. I couldn’t help but reach down and grope his arse, and the hiss of pain he gave was music to my ears.

“Did you mean what you said when you were spanking me?” He pressed his hands to my chest, rocking gently in my lap.

“And what was that, lamb?” My hands slid up to grip Mouse’s hips as he ground down against me.

“That you were going to fuck me.” Mouse was grinding down harder now, whimpering as his tender backside slid against the denim of my jeans.

“Oh, I meant every word of it, boy, but that will have to wait until later. You have a snack waiting for you and some colouring to finish, and I need to work out what I’m going to cook for dinner.”

Mouse slid off my lap and I smiled at the little grimace that he gave. His arse was going to be painful for a while, I’d made sure of it. My T-shirt hung down to his thighs and hid my handiwork when he bent to pull his pyjama pants up.

“Wait a minute, lamb. Let me have a good look at that backside of yours.”

Mouse huffed playfully but complied, lifting his shirt so I could get a good view of his rump. It was a lovely shade of red and I was already imagining how cute it was going to look with a few stripes from my cane. I even had a cane in mind. I’d bought it on a whim a few weeks ago, not sure why I’d need it. In fact, I’d picked up two. A thin, quarter-inch Delrin that would certainly pack a sting, and a more thuddy one that would be good for warming up Mouse’s backside.

“Didn’t you get enough of looking at my arse while you were spanking it?” He flashed me a sultry smile over his shoulder.

Chuckling, I pinched a good handful of his red bottom. “I’ll never get enough of looking at it. Lose the pants altogether. I want an unobstructed view of that bum.”

Mouse kicked the pants away and stood just in the oversized band T-shirt. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him look sexier. Perhaps in those pretty panties he’d had on the other night, but it really hadn’t been the time or place to fully appreciate them.

Grabbing the tray of snacks, I headed back into the kitchen. “Bring your colouring books and pencils. You can eat your snack in here while I get the makings for the stew ready.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

Damn, I was never going to get tired of hearing that name from Mouse’s lips.

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