“Oh. Daddy.” Now my hips were moving of their own accord, a more primal, urgent rhythm. If I went harder, the pressure against my spot intensified in a way that had me seeing sparks. It was almost too much again, but also not enough.
“That’s it,” Joe encouraged, urging me on with his other hand. “Ride me. Fuck yourself on my cock.”
In the space of five seconds, I went from thinking it would be a win as long as Joe came to being pretty sure I was going to go first. “Fuck. I think…”
“Already?” He gave a dirty chuckle that rumbled right through me.
“Feels…weird…close but not, like right there, but…” Joe thrust up to meet my movements. Deeper. So much deeper. He’d been holding back and now I wanted it all. “Oh that. Please.”
“That’s it, baby. Let it feel good.” He moved with me as I moved with him, and every time I got close, he backed off his stroking of my cock until I was shuddering.
“Please, Daddy. Make me come.”
“Go faster.” It was a demand, not a request, and all the sexier for it, but all I could do was make a choking sound. It was already so overwhelming. That might do me in.
“Can’t… I’ll…”
“You can. Come on, Levi. For me.” Joe opened his eyes, and our gazes met, and I would have run an ultra-marathon right then, simply to get more of that look, that medley of tender and tough. Even my dirtiest Daddy Dom fantasies couldn’t hold a candle to Joe in that instant.
“Yes. Yes. Yes. Daddy.” My voice broke as Joe sped up his hand to match my increased rhythm.
My ass tensed as my orgasm approached, which meant I was acutely aware of Joe’s cock. Inside me. It was hot and slick, and everything I wanted. He was going to come. In me. I couldn’t seem to stop moaning.
“Now. Come now, baby. Come for Daddy.” Joe’s speech was slurred. His body tensed, his cock pressing against the spot where I wanted it most.
“Oh God. Oh God.” I was coming, but it was way different than coming from a hand or a mouth. The climax was super intense, but also subtle, the way my come dribbled out instead of big spurts, and the way it went on and on without any sharp peaks. “Love you.”
The words tumbled out, part of the wave of bliss I couldn’t seem to stop riding, and maybe it didn’t matter because Joe was coming too, and I felt it. Oh God, I felt him come. Bizarre. Sexy. And his face was even hotter than the sensations, the way all his features scrunched up like he was in pain, then relaxed all at once as he shouted my name.
“Me too,” Joe whispered into my hair as I collapsed onto his chest. Oh crap. He had heard that.
Too exhausted to even lift my head, I groaned. “I didn’t mean to say that.”
“It’s okay.” He kissed the top of my head and stroked my sweaty back. His cock was still hard inside me, and my body was starting to protest, but I couldn’t untangle myself. This was too important, especially when Joe added, “I’m not going to hold you to it.”
“But I want you to.” I clasped his face, so he’d look into my eyes. We were both a sweaty, sticky mess, but I hoped he’d see my sincerity. “Hold me to it. Please. I didn’t mean to just blurt it out in sex, but I think…I could maybe love you, Joe.”
Joe gave a tender laugh as he helped me move off, settling me next to his side, in my favorite spot tucked tight against him, head on his chest. He kissed my temple before whispering, “I think I could maybe love you too, Levi.”
“Give us time?” That was all I wanted. Time to get this right. Time to get the right words in the right order with no qualifiers. Time to grow into this relationship and sort out a future for both of us.
“Always.” The reverence that Joe had for the word made my breath catch.
He’d said the word any number of times to me, including earlier that night, but right then, it felt like some solemn vow. A promise. And Joe was the sort of guy who kept his promises. We’d have time. All the time we needed.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Joe—November
Paper turkeys fluttered in a draft from a heating vent, and the common room at the housing project was packed with tons of good smells from the buffet in the far corner, but I had eyes for only one person. Who, luckily, was headed right toward me.
Levi had a large box of decorations that he shifted to one side so he could give me an awkward one-arm hug. He looked all spiffy and official in khakis and the same green shirt he’d worn on our first real date.