Page 7 of Fitch

This pleased him, clearly, because he preened. And that was not an act. That wasn’t part of the roles we were playing.

He got off on this as much as I did.

And that made my whole chest warm, my heart feeling a size too big.

“Let me take care of you,” I murmured.

“Yes, daddy,” he said.

I took my time undressing him, running my hand over every new reveal of his pale skin.

Then I showered him, washing him thoroughly and pressing soft kisses where the bubbles had just been.

Then he insisted on giving me a thorough clean. First with soap, then on his knees with his mouth.

He didn’t bring me to orgasm, but fuck, it felt good.

And the sight of him on his knees with my dick in his mouth while the shower washed over us was something I’d never forget.

Sometime around three in the morning, I fucked him in my bed. Doggy style, his small hips in my hands as I impaled him over and over, filled him with my cock, with my come. He shothis load at the same time, hands-free, his whole body trembling, and the sounds he made, the way he called me daddy, the way he begged and pleaded...

So hot, so perfect.

He was everything I needed.

All I could ever want.

Just before seven o’clock in the morning—after six glorious, too-short hours with him—I knew I needed more. I needed this boy on a regular basis.

Surely he’d like a regular customer, regular income. I was willing to pay. Hell, he could name his price and I’d pay it.

I got out of the shower, excited to cook him some breakfast. Excited to ask him if he’d be interested in some kind of arrangement. I fixed the towel around my waist and, still with beads of water on my chest, I opened the door. “So I was thinking...” I began.

But my smile died when I saw the empty, rumpled bed, his clothes and shoes no longer on the floor.

I considered calling out to see if he was in the kitchen, but I knew...

My house felt too quiet, too empty.

He was gone.

TWO

FITCH LAMONT

I needed to leave.

Not for any other reason than it was starting to feel a little too real.

The sex was out of this world. Possibly the best I’d ever had.

Dom was the perfect daddy: he had a firm hand and a gentle touch, he was kind and had an air of confidence that couldn’t be faked.

The way he walked, the way he held himself, how he spoke.

How he fucked.

He was powerful, obviously wealthy, clearly intelligent, and smoking fucking hot.

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