Page 18 of Not Open Yet
“Do you want some more milkies?”
“Yeah, no. No, I want something else.”
“Dinner?”
I couldn’t tell if he was teasing or not.
“Only if dinner requires us to get naked.” I felt so bold as I led him upstairs. I wasn’t sure where I got the courage, but I was happy for it.
The second the door clicked, I felt a shift. It was like we could finally be alone, even though we were very much alone downstairs. He backed me up against the wall and took my lips, my hands wrapping around him, grabbing onto his shoulders as he deepened the kiss.
His mouth was warm and needy, nothing tentative about it. One hand cupped my jaw, the other pressed flat against the wall beside my head. I yanked at his shirt, untucking it from his jeans, needing to feel skin, and he made a low sound against my mouth when my fingers found the warmth of his lower back.
“You sure?” he murmured against my lips.
“So sure,” I breathed back.
He scooped me up, carrying me to my bed, his mouth dropping to my neck, and I tipped my head back to give him better access. It was as if he instinctively knew where the spots were that drove me wild.
My fingers curled into his hair. He reached a spot just below my ear, and I gasped, gripping him tighter. I was right. He knew exactly where to kiss me. At this rate, I was going to come toosoon. I had a feeling he wouldn’t mind that, instead taking it as the compliment that it was.
We undressed each other slowly, not rushing. At least,hewasn’t rushing. I very much wanted to. I couldn’t wait to see what he was hiding under his clothes.
When the last article of clothing fluttered to the ground, I took a step back to soak it all in. He was a freaking masterpiece. His muscles were defined, but not to the point of being too much, his thighs begged for me to trace them with my tongue, and his cock? It was long, thick, and oh so ready. Had I seen a picture of him like this, I’d have assumed there was some photoshopping going on.
He laid me back against the pillows and followed me down, his weight settling over me. I loved this feeling, having his body holding me to the bed. I pulled him closer, wanting to feel all of him.
“Stay like this for a minute. It feels…safe.” That wasn’t the word I was looking for, but it seemed to be the exact one Kyle wanted to hear.
He worked his way down my throat, my collarbone, his mouth warm and deliberate. A lick here, a nibble there. When his lips closed over my breast, I arched up into him, a sharp breath escaping, and he took his time worshipping my nipples.
Was this how it felt when I drank from him? If so, how did he remain so calm?
“Kyle.” It was a plea.
“I’ve got you,” he said, and I believed him. I trusted him in a way I’d only ever trusted one other.
His hand slid down my stomach, and I squirmed, trying to encourage his fingers to keep going, and they did. When he finally touched my tip, I made a sound I didn’t recognize. It was nearly feral, my hips rising to meet his hand. He watched my face as he worked my cock. It felt good, almost too good.
I gripped his forearm and pressed my face into his shoulder, breathing hard against his skin.
“Look at me,” he said softly.
I did.
“Good boy.”
He kissed me slow and deep, this time his hand reaching for a condom and travel packet of lube I hadn’t seen him put on the bed. What a good Daddy, taking care of his boy like that.
“Do you want to keep going?” he asked, holding them up, showing that he put my safety first.
“So very much.”
He pulled back to open the lube and put some on his fingers, and this time when he kissed me, he worked my hole. Teasing gently at first and then entering me slowly, first with one finger, then two, and when I was begging for more, a third.
“Need!” I cried out, and he removed his fingers.
“I got you, sweetheart. I got you.”
