Page 30 of Little Fangs

He was all giggles and feet kicking when we got into bed.

The first night in complete comfort.

The first night where he had a teddy to cuddle from the front, and me from the back.

The first night it felt like we were an unofficial couple.

I kissed him goodnight and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling the duvet up around us.

“Would you ever leave Willow’s End?” he asked.

“I don’t think I can,” I said. “I built this place. I work here. This is my life.”

He nodded, turning his head slightly. “I’m not asking you to leave or anything, I—”

“I don’t think I’m going to let you leave either,” I let out into a yawn, hugging his back to my chest.

Misty joined us moments later, the weight of her body stomping across the duvet and both of our legs to lie in front of him, making biscuits in front of him and purring like a personal white noise machine.

I slept well after that, waking only once to find Misty staring at me while I slept. I’d read up on that; they did it to make sure you were alive. I didn’t know what she’d do if I wasn’t, because she couldn’t call or text anyone.

My dreams were infested with Micah’s smiling face turning to terror. I pulled him up and out of the holes he burrowed into in my dreams, reflecting what I was doing for him outside of my dreams. It helped me process some of the feelings I had. I didn’t want him to leave me. I didn’t want him to go anywhere—not without me, but I also wasn’t going to leave this place.

Micah had turned to face me in his sleep, and when we woke, our bodies were entwined, legs over legs, chest to chest, and from the hard feeling pressing into me, his dick was awake—a familiar scenario.

The morning light broke through the drapes and net curtains, streaming across both of our bodies and caressing the curvature of Micah’s face.

His eyes opened right after mine.

“How do you do that?” I asked.

“Your heart,” he said, breaking out into a yawn—which set me off. “It’s like an alarm.”

I touched at where the light had been. “I think you’re like an alarm,” I said. “Having fun in your dreams?” My hips twitched slightly to push my dick against his. “Oops.”

“Naughty,” he giggled. “It was a little bit.”

With his hand under the duvet, he touched my dick outside my underwear. “Very naughty.”

He pouted, pulling away. “I thought I was a good boy.”

“Oh, you are,” I said, pushing my neck out for my lips to meet his almost bowing forehead. “You’re my good boy. But you can still have naughty thoughts. I don’t mind.”

“Can I?” he asked.

“You already know you can.”

Micah went down on me, my dick getting harder as his tongue touched it and he wrapped his lips around it. Harder at the idea his fangs could touch it, harder with the idea I could be feeding him in more ways than one with my dick.

He knew just how to work me, hands on my balls, tongue under the head of my dick, it was heavenly, and he kept me there until I came in his mouth, down his throat, not a single drop left inside me.

His face appeared from under the duvet, over me. He lay on my chest as I played with his hair, calling him a good boy.

“Thank you for breakfast, Daddy,” he said. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

“I’m the lucky one,” I let out under an exhausted breath, still recovering from the heavenly head his supernatural sinful lips had given me.

11. MICAH