Page 97 of Praised
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Do you like it?”
“It’s much more comfortable than the last one, but probably impossible to fuck on.”
That ripped a laugh out of my throat, and I pulled him onto my lap, just happy to have him back in the same space as me. “How do you figure?”
He gave his body a little jerk, knees sinking into the cushions. “It’s impossible to ride you on this thing.”
“I can bend you over the back of it,” I assured him, patting the back of the couch. “It would be nice and soft against your hips. Don’t worry.”
“There’s about a thousand places in this house at hip level,” he said. “I’m honestly shocked you haven’t taken me over the kitchen counter yet.”
“I have to save some surfaces for my housewarming present,” I murmured, settling my hands against the slight swell of Rose’s hips.
“Housewarming?”
“Once you live here.”
“Wouldn’t that bemyhousewarming present?” He started popping open the buttons on his work shirt until they were all undone and his chest was bare before me.
“What’s yours is mine, remember, baby?”
I tweaked one of his nipples between my fingers and he gasped, leaning forward and bringing his chest very close to my mouth.
“I must have forgotten,” he whispered.
“Then I’ll have to do better at reminding you.”
I moved my hands lower beneath his ass and pushed us both up from the couch to stand. Rose laughed and wrapped his arms around my neck, resting his chin on my shoulder and curling his legs around my waist. I loved how small he was. Loved the way he fit around me.
Rose laughed, his expression quickly turning somber when I carried him into my walk-in closet and set him down right in front of the full-length mirror. We were both half-dressed, him in his stained work pants and socks, me in my slacks.
I’d gone into the office earlier in the day and meant to change clothes when I got home, but I’d gotten as far as taking my shirt off before getting roped into another call and I’d spent the rest of the day with the best of intentions and not enough time.
Rose turned away from the mirror, ready to divest me of my clothes, but I grabbed him and spun him back.
“I want your clothes off.” He pouted, turning his attention to his own button and zipper.
I leaned down and pressed my lips against his ear, catching his stare in the reflection of the mirror.
“Stop it,” I warned.
Rose swallowed, pupils dilating and washing out the blue almost entirely.
“Sorry,” he murmured.
“Sorrywho?”
“Sorry.” He let out a soft whimper. “Sorry, Mr. Galloway.”
I closed the space between us and pressed my hard cock against the small of his back.“I don’t think you appreciate how much it turns me on when you call me that.”
“I very much appreciate it.”
Reaching around to the front of him, I resumed the work he’d started on his pants, shoving them down to his ankles. He dropped his head against my chest, a practiced move by now, and leaned on me so he had the leverage to use his toes to take off his socks and kick the pants to the side.
Rose was nothing less than breathtaking, and seeing him in my closet, his cock and balls tucked away behind expensive lace and silk that I’d bought for him was enough to send a surge of ownership and pride up from my toes and straight to my mouth.
“I know I say it all the time, but you’re gorgeous. You’re perfect, Rose. You’re so fucking perfect.”
