Page 50 of Imperfect Skin

“Well, I would suggest flat on my front with you eating my arse out, but I’m sure you have some ideas to throw into the ring, too.”

Gazing up at him I could see the bruises from Ziggy’s hands on Mouse’s face. If I got my hands on Ziggy I would probably kill the man. Nobody would ever again lay their hands on my boy.

“Hey, where did you go?” He had moved his hands from my stomach to cup my face, his brow furrowed in concern.

“I’m okay, lamb. I just wish I’d gotten to you sooner.” I lifted my hand to his cheek and he pressed against it, smiling sadly.

“You know, I went to that club hoping to get you beaten out of my head. It’s stupid, because it wouldn’t have worked. You’ve been lodged in here”—Mouse tapped his chest—“for too long. I don’t think I could ever not want this, what we have now. And in a sick way, I have Ziggy to thank for that.”

“The only thing I’ll give Ziggy if I see him is a boot to the nuts, but I get what you’re saying. Now, before my morose thoughts got in the way, you had a suggestion.” I smiled, hoping to lighten the mood.

“I believe I did make a suggestion, Daddy, but I’m sure you have your own ideas about what you could do to me.” Mouse fluttered his lashes. The effect was both adorable and funny.

I gripped his arse, digging my fingers into the soft flesh and relishing the gasp that Mouse made. “You can make suggestions, but it’s me who decides what you get. Now get your arse upstairs and in a shower. You’ve got ten minutes to be ready and waiting by the bed for me like a good boy—and no sneaking in a quick wank. That little cock’s mine, remember?”

Mouse slid off my lap and gave a jaunty salute. “Yes, Sir Daddy.”

I watched him bolt for the stairs, admiring his pert arse as it jiggled. Damn, I was going to take a bite out of that tempting peach tonight.

I took my time tidying up the kitchen, placing our dishes in the dishwasher and grabbing two bottles of water out from the fridge. I also stopped and grabbed the bag of fresh dressings and salve so I could change the dressings on Mouse’s back. I took my time, letting the arousal and anticipation build in my gut. Tonight, I was going to claim Mouse in the most primal way possible.

Seventeen

MOUSE

Ibolted for Cal’s bedroom. I assumed he wouldn’t mind me using his bathroom. Stripping off the T-shirt, I flung it on the floor. I detoured en route to the bathroom to stand in front of the full-length mirror that stood in the corner of Cal’s room. Turning around, I looked over my shoulder at my reflection. The skin on my back had turned mottled shades of blue and green. The smaller wounds had scabbed over, and the two largest had dressings on them—and where in the world did Doc get dressing tape with SpongeBob?

I didn’t focus on my back. I didn’t want thoughts of the other night to spoil what I hoped was going to be a mind-blowing first time with Callum. Instead, I dropped my gaze to my arse. I’d always thought it was one of my best features. Not quite full enough to be a bubble butt and not too skinny either. The pale skin was already showing faint hand-shaped bruises. I focused on them, on the feeling of Callum correcting me and punishing me for being naughty, of being cared for.

I hadn’t gotten hard while Callum had spanked me. My brain had been focused on receiving my punishment and knowing I’d be forgiven once it was over. That was a different form of catharsis, just as deep and earthmoving as coming my brains out.

Oh shit, what was I doing wasting time staring at my arse? Cal had said to be ready for him in ten minutes.

I hurried into the bathroom.

In the shower, I washed quickly using Cal’s scented body wash. My balls and groin only had a faint smattering of hair coming through since my last wax, and I was mostly as smooth as a baby’s bottom. I doubted Cal would have any complaints, so I left it and continued to soap myself down. I needed to have a quick wank to take the edge off. I was almost certain Cal possessed some sort of freaky Daddy sixth sense and would know if I tried to sneak one in. Still, my hand slipped to my junk and I began to touch myself with long, leisurely strokes. I flashed back to Cal’s gravelly voice as he’d fucked my throat, then to the weight of his hand when he’d spanked my arse. Heat pooled in my gut, and I tried to keep my groans quiet. I was going to come.

“Enjoying yourself, lamb?”

Oh, fuck me. If he made me stop I would probably scream. But come to think of it, he was probably going to make me scream tonight regardless.

“Yeah, I am, thanks. Wanna get in and give me a hand?” I flashed him a cheeky smile, trying to ignore the stern frown he was wearing.

“No.” He was leaning against the wall, watching me like I was a tasty meal, or prey to pounce on. “Keep going, lamb. I didn’t tell you to stop. Put on a show for me.”

I turned slightly so I could look at Cal properly. His eyes were like cut glass, piercing me where I stood. I slowed my strokes, arching my back slightly.

“Take your time, boy. Tease yourself. Think about how it’s going to feel when I finally fuck that sweet arse of yours. I won’t take it easy on you, lamb. I’m going to fuck you hard, baby boy. Going to have you crying on my cock.”

Fuck me, the man knew how to sweet-talk a boy.

“Can I come?” I reached down and squeezed my balls tightly, enough to bring tears to my eyes, and my cock was leaking a steady stream of precome. I kept my eyes locked with Callum’s. Would he let me come, or would he deny me? The ache of not knowing was nearly as intoxicating as the wank itself.

Callum moved forwards with a predatory grace. His hand encircled my cock as he paid no mind to the water running over him.

“No. You broke the rules and touched yourself without my permission.” His hand tightened around my dick, the force of it nearly making me come.

“You said I could have all the orgasms I wanted until you caged me tonight.” Okay, so maybe I was purposely ignoring the fact he’d told me not to do exactly this when I was having my shower.

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