Page 70 of Imperfect Skin

“So full, Daddy. Am I really going to be able to take your whole hand?” His voice caught as I pushed my fingers deeper, curling them and pressing them against that magic spot inside him.

“Oh, Jesus, fuck.” Mouse moaned.

“No, baby boy, just Daddy.”

Time passed like in a dream. By the time Mouse’s body opened to accept my fingers, his constant sweet babble had died down to desperate mewls and soft, panting breaths. He cried out softly, and I praised him while I watched, transfixed, as the cone of my fingers slid deep inside his body.

His cock, which had gone down as I’d worked my hand inside him, began to grow hard again. His skin was covered in a fine sheen of perspiration that made him glow in the lamplight.

I had never felt more connected to a person than I did right now. The level of intimacy and connection would have brought me to my knees had I not already been kneeling.

“Are you ready for me, baby? Are you ready to take my hand?” I stretched my fingers out, and Mouse let out a single, breathless sob.

“Fuck yes, do it.”

“So bossy,” I chided, as I slowly pushed my entire hand inside him.

I looked down in awe at his sweet hole clutching around my wrist, the heat of his channel engulfing my hand.

Looking up, I saw the same look of wonder in his reflection in the mirror, which morphed into a silent wail as I twisted my hand, his channel convulsing and clutching at my hand while creamy ropes of come dripped from his cock.

I continued to move my arm gently, fucking him through his orgasm just to watch the way his rim gripped at my skin. The sensation of his muscles bearing down on me was going to live in my head rent-free for quite some time.

“That’s it, beautiful. Look how you’ve come for Daddy. Fuck, you’ve made me so proud.” I couldn’t stop touching Mouse’s skin with my free hand. I couldn’t wait to hold him, to tell him how precious and amazing he was.

Looking back up to the mirror, I saw we were both crying, the emotions rolling through me echoed in Mouse’s expression.

“I love you, my little Mouse.” My voice came out as a rasp, I was so overwhelmed by the moment.

“Love you.” Mouse looked ready to pass out. I slowly pulled my hand from him. I quickly discarded the glove and took myself in hand, aiming the head of my cock at his stretched opening that was already fighting to contract to its normal, tight pucker. I knee-walked forwards so the head of my cock kissed his abused hole. I stroked myself roughly. Glancing up at our reflection, I saw Mouse staring back at me hungrily.

“Come, Daddy, mark my skin.” Mouse’s voice was husky with need and sinfully sweet. The gorgeous smile he gave me was enough to have my balls clench and empty, painting Mouse’s hole and arse with my come. I gave a low moan as I pushed it into Mouse’s tender hole, his whole body shuddering as I fingerfucked his hole. Satisfied, I pulled my fingers out and laid a gentle slap on his arse.

“Daddy, I think you’ve broken me.” Mouse gave a breathless laugh, flopping forwards onto the bed, not caring about the damp spot beneath him.

“Hold still, baby, got to get some of this lube off you or you’re going to slide right out of bed.”

Mouse gave a tired giggle, letting me clean him and then fuss until I had us both under the covers. “Thank you, Daddy. Though I think my arse is going to hate your guts in the morning.” He snickered against my chest.

“My pleasure, little Mouse. I’ll always give you what you need. And I promise this is not going to be the last time your arse hates me.”

Mouse wiggled around until he had his entire body plastered to mine. “I know we don’t know what’s going to happen in the future, but just throwing it out there that I’m probably never going to want to let you go,” he whispered.

“Right back at you, little Mouse. I might just tattoo a mouse over my heart next to Alice’s picture. You own my heart, Mouse.”

I meant every word of it. It was too soon to think of forevers and weddings and shit, but the thought didn’t horrify me like it had years ago.

One day, I was going to marry the fuck out of my little Mouse.

Epilogue

MOUSE

Two months later

The wind whipped over the bluff that Tewsbury Cemetery sat on. The small hill overlooked the bay. Mum’s grave was close to the top, near a small stand of stunted trees. Dad said she’d loved coming up to this spot as you could see the whole bay and town from here, and if you turned around and looked the other way, you saw the start of the moors.

I hadn’t been here since the funeral. Guilt and shame had kept me away, but between Dec and Cal I’d finally found the courage to pay Mum a visit. Things had been good—really good—and sometimes I wondered if the other shoe would drop, and things would turn to shit. But so far it hadn’t happened, and I was letting myself believe that I deserved the happiness I had found.

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