Page 42 of The Story of Danny Rose

Danny moaned around me, and then I felt something other than water splash against my leg.

“Are you coming on Daddy, baby boy? You can’t help yourself?”

He whimpered.

“Remember to pinch my thigh if you reach your limit.” I fisted his hair and started fucking his mouth.

That did it for one of the twins. Or maybe both. Their groans grew louder alongside my own, and soon, I was forcing my cock down Danny’s throat, where I emptied myself in several bursts.

Even when he gagged and choked, he squeezed my ass cheeks and pulled me toward him.

I shuddered violently and withdrew slowly. He sucked me greedily through labored breaths, grazing his teeth along my cock just the way I loved it.

“Such a good little cocksucker.” I caressed his cheeks and took a mental photo of the string of come that connected the head of my cock to his lips. Until the water washed it away.

“I always wanna be good for my Daddy,” he croaked.

I picked him up and hugged him to me.

The twins knew when to leave. I heard the door close.

This whole “we’ll go about our morning as usual” was becoming too difficult. Todaywasn’tusual. I was shipping out, and I was gonna go two weeks without hearing a damn word from him. It wasn’t like I could pick up the phone and call him at night when I was in the middle of fucking nowhere in the Afghan mountains.

“Miss me,” he whispered.

“I already am.” I lifted his chin and dipped down and kissed him.

My chest swelled with unspoken declarations. I just squeezed him tighter and kissed my way down to his neck.

I was falling for him. Damn hard and fast too.

Part of me worried we were stuck—and it was the wrong word for an addictive situation—in a bubble of bliss. He hadn’t had many setbacks or bursts of anger, and I’d counted on those. I still was. I mean, nothing changed overnight, and he’d been through so much. He’d been on his own for so long.

I hoped nothing happened while I was working. Because while he’d managed well so far, I’d had something to do with it. I’d been there to calm him down the few times he’d let his anger take the wheel. And it was always related to his training, usually the one I arranged for him and the twins outside of Hillcroft premises.

If he didn’t ace every task, he got furious with himself and appeared to be one small trigger away from saying something stupid. I’d seen it. I’d felt his hesitation and surprise when I’d enveloped him in a hug after an exercise he didn’t get a full score in. As if he was waiting for me to get so disappointed that I didn’t want him around.

I cupped his face in my hands and kissed him languidly. “Work hard while I’m gone—but remember that failure is just a cue to try again.”

“Ugh. You had to bring up failure?”

With him? Yeah. Unfortunately, I did.

“Remember what I told you?” I murmured with a pointed look.

He sighed and frowned. “You’d rather see me fail a million times during practice if it prevents a single mistake in the field.”

Damn right.

“The more we sweat in peace and all that,” he finished.

The less we bleed in war.

“Exactly—because I will always need you to come home unharmed too,” I said.

He sobered and nodded once. “Yes, Sir. I get it. I, um…” He cleared his throat. “I’ll make room for mistakes. Okay? Like, I’ll test my limits more.”

That right there. That was the way to go. Without drill instructors from the military around, we had to push ourselves harder. “Perfect.” I kissed him again, then reluctantly turned off the water.

---