Page 42 of Fitch

I wouldn’t have minded if he finished me up against the wall. The way he held me, so strong and demanding. He pushed his hips against me; his hard cock made me hot all over.

Melting.

Into him, melting for him.

I would let him do anything to me. I wanted him to do anything to me. However he wanted me.

“Daddy, please,” I whined.

Then, with his hands under my arse, he carried me down the hall. I laughed as I hung on, kissing his neck. He got as far as the sofa where he threw me down. My legs were open, and he put one knee between them. He pressed the lollipop to my lips.

“Suck it, boy,” he demanded. “Work those lips for me.”

Oh fuck yes. The lollipop had been agreatidea.

I kissed the lollipop first, slow and sensual, my eyes locked with his. Then I slid it into my mouth and pulled it back out slowly, working it through my lips.

Dom’s nostrils flared, he had fire in his eyes, and his hands... his big hands cradled my hips, his fingernails biting into the skin above my waistband.

He clearly wanted to rip my jeans down but was hesitating, and I wasn’t having that.

I took the lollipop out. “I’m ready for you, daddy. I was a good boy and got myself ready?—”

He dragged my jeans down over my hips, finding out I wasn’t wearing any underwear. He growled at me, so I put the lollipop back between my lips and batted my eyelashes.

“Fuck, boy,” he whispered as he undid his belt, fingers scrambling to undo his button and unzip. “You got me so turned on right now.”

I tongued the lollipop and slow-blinked. “Sorry, daddy.”

With my jeans pulled down to my thighs, he folded my legs up, exposing my lubed hole. He made a tortured sound, his huge cock already leaking precome. He swiped it over my hole. “You make daddy crazy,” he bit out. Then he put the lollipop back in my mouth and covered my mouth with his hand, the lollipop stick through his fingers, as he pushed his cock into me.

I cried out, the breach, the burn was too much. But he held his hand over my mouth, keeping the lollipop in place as he pushed all the way in. My cries were muffled, strained.

“Shh, boy,” he bit out through clenched teeth. “Be a good boy and take daddy’s cock. I know you can take it.”

I had to breathe through my nose, short sharp puffs of air helped with the pain, and I was almost okay until he moved and the angle changed.

I cried out again, my arms flailing. With his free hand, he caught my wrist and pinned it to the cushion above my head. “Breathe, boy. That’s it. Feel my cock inside you? That’s what you do to me. Make me so hard, make me want you so bad. Breathe it in.” His eyes were lasered in on mine, his dark and intense as he impaled me.

I could only ever do what he said when he looked at me like that. So I inhaled deeply through my nose, and knowing I was safe with him, I let the tension go.

He was owning me; my body was his. And as he began to move, slowly pulling back and pushing in, he found his rhythm and the pain was soon replaced with something else. Something so much better.

Wanting and need, yes. But... but also gratitude.

Gratitude for him wanting me. Gratitude for him needing me, for him showing me what a good boy I could be.

“Thank you, daddy,” I mumbled behind his hand, tearing up.

He moved his hand to cup my cheek instead, his cock buried to the hilt inside me. “Good boy. Daddy’s almost done. Just a little bit longer,” he crooned. “Such a good boy.”

I pulled the lollipop out, licking my lips and swallowing. I nodded earnestly. “Yes, daddy. Thank you.”

“Want your reward, boy?” he hissed, voice tight. “Daddy needs to come already.”

I nodded. “Please. Please, yes.”

He grunted and pushed forward, my jeans pressing me down, my knees up around my ears. He was so impossibly deep inside me it stole my breath. I was so full of him, folded in half, it was hard to breathe. I gasped and gasped as he pushed in, and he gripped the back of the couch. And with a loud groan and a final surge, he came.

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