Page 74 of Born Daddy

Cam had hated shopping, and since he insisted that Tate stay home most of the time, had hired a service to handle purchasing their groceries. The lack of typical activities that most couples shared had become more highlighted now that he and Rogan were stepping into their new roles.

Once Tate had chosen his salad and Rogan had dropped almost a hundred dollars on all the items he’d been excitedly tossing into the cart, they were finally on their way home. Once Rogan put the truck in park, Tate finally felt as if he could let out a sigh of relief. Without a doubt, he was staying the night.

Tate helped Rogan lug the groceries upstairs and together, they put everything away. Once more, he was struck at how soothing the mundane activities were, and how much it meant that he was sharing them with Rogan.

“Is there anything else I can get you before we say goodnight?”

Rogan didn’t meet his gaze, electing to fuss with the pillow on the couch instead, punching and re-punching it as if seeking to force it into the perfect shape.

But Tate knew what he was really doing. Rogan was struggling with the same desire as he was. The urgency between them was overpowering intense, an all-consuming need that could only be satisfied one way.

Tate pondered what his next move should be. Rogan was the Daddy, Rogan called the shots. But did Tate’s wish to take their relationship to the next level fall under the rules of submission? They were two men under the same roof with a burning attraction between them. How could something like that be subject to Daddy rules?

He raked his fingers through his hair, confused, but unable to banish the thought of taking the lead in a way he never had before. Daddy told him he’d be punished if he teased. Well, why not stand up and take his punishment?

Rogan seemed to have determined he’d mauled his pillow enough for one night then turned his head, regarding Tate with a creased brow.

“Tate? Did you need anything else?”

Tate kept his eyes locked with Rogan as he grabbed the bottom of his T-Shirt then tugged it over his head, tossing it to the side. Rogan’s jaw went slack.

“Yes, Daddy. I do.”

He reached for his sweats, hooking his thumbs below the waistband. Rogan’s hand shot up, his palm facing out.

“Whoa! What are you doing?”

“Any of the punishments on the list are fine, Daddy.” Tate licked his lips, slowly dragging his tongue around first the top, then the bottom. “I’ll take all of them if I have to.”

“Holy Jesus,” Rogan whispered. “Tate…” Rogan’s hand shook as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Sweetheart, you know how much I want you, want to make love to you, hold you all night long, but…” Rogan appeared at a loss for words.

“Then why don’t you?”

Tate quickly divested himself of the sweats, naked before his Daddy for the first time. Rogan’s eyes were on him like a touch, his gaze roaming Tate’s form, his breathing elevated as he looked at Tate with a wide-eyed stare. When Rogan glanced down at Tate’s straining cock, he also licked his lips. Rogan lifted his eyes.

“Tell me yes.”

Tate thought he already had, but perhaps Rogan needed extra reassurance.

“Yes, Daddy. I want you to fuck me, want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.”

His words weren’t platitudes. Rogan excited him in a way no one else had before. It occurred to him it was because he did love Rogan, that no one would ever again affect him the way Rogan did.

Rogan still stared at him wide-eyed, silent. Then his gaze darkened, and Tate knew the decision was made. Rogan rushed forward then crushed their mouths together, wrapping Tate in a solid embrace, tasting his lips over and over before pushing his tongue between them and shoving it inside Tate’s mouth.

Tate gasped as he opened up to the kiss, giving up all control to his Daddy as he held him against his still-clothed body. Tate coiled a leg around Rogan’s thigh and clutched at his shoulders. Everything about his Daddy—his heady taste, masculine scent, the scrape of his stubble, the hard, muscular planes of his body—held Tate in thrall.

This was what he’d always yearned for. This was his salvation.

Rogan cupped Tate’s ass and lifted him up, Tate wrapping both legs around Rogan’s waist as he was carried into the bedroom. Rogan didn’t break the kiss, his Daddy feeding desperate moans into Tate’s mouth until they reached the bed. Rogan held Tate’s gaze as he slowly lowered them both onto the bed.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” Rogan whispered, his voice ragged.

He stroked Tate’s head, petting back the hair that was too short to fall into Tate’s eyes.

“You’re the kindest, most handsome man I’ve ever met, Daddy.”

Tate ached to utter the words he really wanted to say, to tell his Daddy that he’d found the love in Rogan that he’d always wished for. Rogan took Tate’s mouth in another frantic kiss, stretching his body across Tate’s and pressing him into the mattress.

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