Page 89 of Pose for Me
“You okay, baby boy?” I ask.
He nods, resting a hand on my face. “I need you, Daddy,” Lane says in a thick voice, pulling me between his legs. His dick hasn’t deflated, poking me in the belly. Feeling his arousal has my cock rallying, thickening as I brush my shaft against his.
“I need you too,” I tell him honestly. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have left. I shouldn’t have given you up.” Lane gives me a pointed stare, and I chuckle. “I know, I know. But I’m here now.”
“I don’t have lube,” he mumbles almost shyly. “I haven’t…I haven’t touched myself since you…left me.”
My heart soars, even though it hurts at what I did to my boy. Even after our separation, Lane still belongs to me.
Giving him a quick kiss, I hop off the bed and head to his kitchen and find olive oil.
He smiles when he sees the bottle in my hand, and he spreads his legs, that sweet, sexy hole showing. If I weren’t so eager to get my dick into him, I’d clamp my lips around his pucker and eat him out for the rest of the night. But right now, I need in him. I’ll get his flavor on my tongue some other time.
Pushing his legs back, I stretch him, getting him ready and enjoying how warm and tight he grips my fingers. Once he’s loose enough to take me without pain, I settle between his legs and sink into his ass. I groan at the feeling of being with him, at coming home.
Lane wraps his legs around me, tears rolling into his hair. I pull back almost all the way, then push in languidly, rolling my hips as I fuck into him. Lane moans, his bottom lip trembling as he looks at me.
“Don’t leave me again,” he says, his voice rough from tears and pleasure. “Please, Daddy. Don’t make me live without you again.”
“I won’t, baby boy,” I vow, kissing him slowly as I gently rock into him. “You’re stuck with me.”
Lane sobs as I make love to him and I kiss away his tears, my arms wrapped tightly around him. I tell my boy how much I missed him and how good he feels. Lane gasps and moans and writhes under me, his legs hooked tightly around my back.
“I love you so much. So fucking much. Don’t let me go,” he whispers.
“Never,” I promise and kiss him, feeling his cock pulse and his cum spray between us. On a gentle wave, I explode inside him, whispering his name over and over.
Lane sighs, nuzzling at my neck. I kiss over his face—his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his chin before I take his lips in an unhurried kiss.
My soft cock slides out of him, and I roll to the side, bringing Lane with me. I missed having him like this, feeling him so warm and pliant in my arms. Now, I finally feel complete, not like half the man I was before I came for my boy.
“We have to talk, Ry,” he whispers, but he sounds tired. Content, but tired.
“Tomorrow. Right now, let me hold my boy until he falls asleep. Then we can talk as long as you want.”
“Okay. Daddy?”
I hum in acknowledgment.
“You owe me a new pair of panties.”
Thirty-Three
Lane
Wakingup in Ryell’s arms is the best feeling in the world. After six months of sleeping alone, of using memories of his warm body to help me doze—not to mention the ankle monitor—it’s like heaven that he’s actually here in the flesh.
I open my eyes slowly, meeting the gaze of my Daddy. “Good morning,” I whisper, not wanting to speak too loud so I don’t break the illusion. If this is a dream, I want to lie in it just a little while longer.
But it’s not a dream. He smiles at me, a smile full of his own relief. “Good morning, Agent. Did you sleep well?”
“I did, for the first time in half a year.”
He uses his foot to jostle the ankle monitor that’s resting against his leg. My cheeks heat with embarrassment, but I won’t apologize for how I chose to cope with his absence. “Does that help?”
I shrug, then nuzzle closer to him. “Helped me feel grounded.”
He hums and kisses the top of my head. “You can take it off now, Agent. I’m not going anywhere.”
