Page 97 of Swiped By My Dad's Best Friend
He chuckled darkly. “Oh, I’m gonna handle you all right. Go tell your father goodnight and meet me at the truck.”
***
TRACE
Cooper was perfect—especially when tasting of sex and pumpkin pie.
Especially when trembling beneath me, whipped cream trailing down his chest to his hard, quivering cock. I followed the sticky path with my mouth, devouring him like the dessert he was. His muscles twitched, the flavors of salty skin and sugary sweetness bursting over my tongue.
“Mmm, delicious,” I murmured against his navel before returning to kiss him, sharing the taste with him.
“You’re killing me,” he gasped when I pulled back.
I grinned evilly. “Patience is a virtue, brat.”
His lips pouted as I returned to his navel, licking and sucking hard bites that made him jolt and gasp, until all that was left was his cock. I fell on it like a ravenous beast, and he hoarsely cried out, bucking his hips to thrust deeper. I held him down, sucking him hard and fast, until he shook so much I knew he couldn’t hold back.
Then I pulled my mouth off and squeezed the base of his cock, cutting off the path to climax. He gave an anguished groan. “Daddy, please…”
I sat back and reached for the half-empty pie tin. “Oh, did you want another bite?”
We’d been sharing bites of the pie, and I was realizing I might have a food kink. Feeding him, tasting it on his tongue, and eating off his body? It was all doing it for me. But even better, it was doing it for him.
Cooper had expected me to take him over my knee or to restrain his hands and pound him into the mattress as I had before. But tonight I’d craved something sweeter. I wanted to push him to his absolute limits—all while treasuring him for the sweet treat that he was. I wanted him out of his head and floating in a haze of sensory input.
He’d had a heck of a time, between his injuries, his falling out with his father, his tentative reconciliation with his mother. That was without even considering the hours he’d been working toward salvaging his grades—even while dealing with lingering headaches and concentration lapses. And all for the sake of other people.
Cooper didn’t work hard for himself, but for the frat, for the people his nonprofit project would continue to help if they won, and for Simon. He was so incredibly selfless, and so few people realized it. Hell, the kid had gone to college when he hadn’t wanted to, simply to please a father who’d been hurt too much already, and he’d stuck with it even when he’d hated every minute in the classroom.
My brat was a treasure, and I’d make sure he knew it every day for the rest of my life.
I pressed another bite of pumpkin pie into Cooper’s mouth, silencing his whimpering protests, then kissed him hard and deep before flipping him over onto his knees. He gasped as I applied more whipped cream, this time down the crease of his ass, before diving in.
“Oh, fuck!” he cried as I lapped his hole clean. It was a messy business, but fun too, as he panted and moaned. My face was covered in whipped cream, the stuff clinging to my beard, but I ignored all that and focused on driving Cooper mad with pleasure.
When he was sobbing for relief, I raised up, sheathed myself in a condom, and liberally applied lube to myself and Cooper. All that whipped cream was bound to be sticky, and I didn’t want this to be anything but a pleasure.
“Want more pie?” I asked, just to tease him a little more.
“No, fuck, please!”
I chuckled darkly, loving the desperation in his voice.
“Are you needy, brat?” I asked.
“Wh-what?”
“Are youneedy?”
“Yes.”
“And is that a bad thing?”
“Right now it is,” he grumbled.
I slapped his ass for being insolent and leaned over him, pressing against his back and letting my cock press into the furrow of his ass. Whispering next to his ear, I said, “Do you feel how much I enjoy your neediness?”
“Yes, but—”
