Page 77 of Born Daddy

Rogan’s brow creased and he narrowed his eyes a fraction, regarding Tate as if he was searching for the truth in Tate’s words.

“All right. I won’t, but—” Rogan arched his eyebrows in emphasis— “You will say red if you have to, got it?”

The stern tone made a shiver run up Tate’s spine. “Yes, Daddy. I will.”

“Good boy.”

Rogan gave him another quick, thorough kiss then removed his fingers from Tate’s ass. He sat back on his heels, snatching up the condom as he did. He held the package with his clean hand and tore open the package with his teeth. After rolling the rubber down his length, he lifted his gaze.

“Next weekend, we get tested.”

Tate’s eyes widened. Yes! That’s what he’d assumed they’d soon be doing since they’d already ordered the toys. But he didn’t think it was his place to ask, to insist on knowing when. He also hadn’t wanted to confess to his lingering insecurity, the one that nagged at him still after Cam’s refusal to get tested, how he’d insisted they always use protection. That Rogan might grow tired of sharing his body with only one man.

Now he and Rogan could be together with nothing between them.

Rogan leaned forward again, but this time, he guided his cock to Tate’s hole. The moment the large, blunt head of Rogan’s dick penetrated him, he gasped at the intrusion. He didn’t want to think about the last time he’d been breached, but it had been several months.

“Slow to start, remember?”

Rogan smiled down at him and Tate reached up to frame Rogan’s face with his palms.

“I remember, Daddy. And I trust you.”

Rogan lowered his head to bring their mouths together, the action pushing his cock further into Tate’s ass, his body fighting the invasion. Tate bore down and Rogan slid inside, their lips touching at the same moment Rogan was fully seated. Rogan stilled, seemingly allowing Tate to adjust, and explored his mouth, taking leisurely kisses until Tate had relaxed enough that he started to rock against Rogan’s groin, encouraging him to move.

The shared kiss ended, but Rogan continued to nibble and taste Tate’s jaw, his chin, his throat as he thrust forward. The motion was controlled, Tate detected a slight vibration in Rogan’s body, as if he were a rubber band about to snap.

“Daddy, please,” Tate whispered. “I want it.” He trailed his fingers up and down Rogan’s back then stroked as much of Rogan’s ass as he could reach. “I need you to fuck me, hard. I want to feel you for days.”

“Holy…” Rogan grunted as his hips snapped forward. “So tight, incredible.”

“Daddy…”

Tate wrapped his arms around Rogan’s neck and thrust his hips, showing Rogan how ready he was, that he was done waiting. Rogan picked up the pace, meeting him with each plunge until Rogan was driving into his body, taking control the way Tate had been aching for. Soon, they moved in tandem, Tate held in Rogan’s rough embrace as they fucked, made love for the first time.

The memory would be seared in his mind forever.

Sweat poured down Tate’s face and he could feel the dampness of it on the back of his neck. Skin sliding against skin, slippery, not allowing Tate to get enough friction to get off again. Rogan’s breathing became frantic and ragged, his body tensing and Tate knew it wouldn’t be long before his Daddy came.

As if sensing Tate’s dilemma and the fact that he was honoring his promise not to touch himself, Rogan shoved his hand between their bodies and grasped Tate’s cock. The shock of the touch sent Tate into a freefall and his orgasm barreled through him. Cum erupted from his dick at the same instant that Rogan let out a roar then froze.

He growled though his own release, eyes screwed shut, his face twisted in a grimace of rapture. With one final jerk in Tate’s ass, Rogan let out a throaty moan, then fell on top of him. He’d used his elbows to keep himself from completely crushing Tate, but there was still enough of Rogan’s glorious body covering him, the weight of the larger man giving him a sense of safety.

No one would touch him with Rogan around. Rogan wouldn’t tolerate it.

After a few moments, Rogan’s eyes fluttered open and his breathing slowed. He regarded Tate with an expression of wonder.

“My sweet, beautiful boy.”

Tate’s eyes watered and he stroked Rogan’s face with one hand, his other resting on Rogan’s bicep. “You were amazing, Daddy.” He scraped his teeth along his bottom lip. “Now that we’ve done it, does it mean we can sleep in the same bed?”

Rogan snort-chuckled then hurriedly reached beneath them. “Damn, almost lost it.” He laughed again as he fussed with the used condom, tying it up then tossing it on the floor next to the bed. “I’d be devastated if we didn’t.” He gave Tate a soft kiss. “Now, be a good boy and don’t move. I’ll go grab a towel so I can clean you up.” Rogan climbed off the bed. “I’ll get you some water too.

He made a small frown, then grabbed the throw at the end of the bed and began to drape it over him. Tate gasped.

“Wait, it’ll get messy.”

Rogan pressed the covering over Tate. “That’s why God made washing machines. You sweated up a storm and I don’t want you catching a chill. We have the air on.”

Tate grinned. “Yes, Daddy.”

Yeah. This was what he’d been wanting since the moment he’d found out such a thing as a Daddy Dom existed. What he hadn’t realized was that there were so many different kinds, that he might not get it right the first, second or even third time.

But that was over now. This time, he’d gotten it right. He’d gotten Rogan.

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