Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“You took what you wanted,” I said, out of breath. “It’s my turn. Suck my cock, little slut.”
He whimpered and wrapped his lips around me, trying to suck me and collect his breath at the same time. Then his hands came around my thigh, and he hugged himself closer to me, clinging to me.
“That’s it. That’s a perfect little cocksucker.” I pushed my cock in and out of his warm, wet mouth. “Fucking hell, you drive me crazy. I’ve got your come dripping out of my ass. Do you know how that feels?”
He choked around me when I rubbed the head of my cock against the back of his throat.
“Shh, sweet boy. Breathe through your nose. You’re doing such a good job.” I couldn’t believe my luck with this boy. He still wanted more. His fingers crept between my ass cheeks, and he slid two fingers inside me as he coated my cock with his tongue. “Oh God, that’s fucking amazing,” I moaned. “Do you feel the mess you made in Daddy’s ass?”
He hummed and nodded quickly, his big, gorgeous eyes fixed on my face.
“We’re going to make a lot of messes together.” I stroked his cheek lovingly. “But not this time, because you’re gonna swallow every drop I give you, aren’t you?”
He nodded again, and the need in his expression meant everything. He sucked and suckled as if he was trying to force the orgasm out of me. And maybe he was.
All thoughts came to a screeching halt, and I gasped. “Right there, Peyton. Right fucking there.”
He rubbed persistently at my prostate, and the intense ecstasy crashed down on me.
I screwed my eyes shut and went rigid; every muscle in my body tensed up, and I started coming. I forced myself a little deeper, and there it was. His tight throat squeezed the head of my cock as rope after rope of come shot from me.
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t move.
Peyton had to feel this soon. He had to know the absolute pleasure of having two orgasms at once. Because that was exactly what it was like. All the tension, all the pressure—it just drained out of my body.
When it was over, all I could do was fall down on the mattress and pull him with me.
I held him to me. I breathed him in.
He buried his face against my neck and mumbled that I had ruined him.
“In a good way, I hope,” I murmured drowsily and shuddered.
“The best,” he croaked.
We had our last swim in the ocean at sunset while our dinner was on the grill. After that, we showered and got dressed before we settled in to eat. The dining area consisted of seat cushions on the sand and a low table, and we sat next to each other so we both had the spectacular view of the horizon.
Splashes of purple and blue met the fiery sea of red and orange at the bottom.
Peyton took a couple pictures while I poured us some wine.
“What a time to be alive,” he murmured. “Can we take one photo together?”
“Of course.” I smiled as he flipped his phone to selfie mode and held up his wineglass. Then I leaned into him and pressed a kiss to his temple.
An extra flush of pink graced his sun-kissed cheeks when I eased away.
“Perfect,” he whispered, inspecting the picture. “We gotta toast to this. To an amazing day.”
“To an amazing day,” I echoed and clinked my glass to his. “I can think of no better way to end it than dinner on the beach and you signing another contract.”
Amusement filled his green eyes, and he offered a strange look. “What else can I possibly sign away?”
I smirked.
Your life, darling boy.
Ah, if only I could go that far.
“A contract is a bit of a stretch,” I amended with a chuckle. “Your signature on a napkin would only be for me.” I slipped it out of my pocket and unfolded it next to him. “Just sign here at the bottom when you agree.”
“You’re certain I will?” He grinned and peered closer to see what I’d scribbled on it. It wiped away his grin in a heartbeat, and I had to laugh at his sweet embarrassment.
It was a single sentence.
I, Peyton Dylan Scott, hereby submit to shower with my owner, Edward Francis Delamare, every morning so he can prepare my ass for his cock.
I extended a pen to him.
He didn’t pretend to hesitate, nor did he ask any questions. He grabbed the pen and gave me his signature, all while blushing furiously.
What a time to be alive, indeed.
Ten
We were going to need boundaries.
Having a sex life again—with my assistant, no less—was affecting my work.
In the following week, Peyton and I took advantage of every moment of privacy we were granted. His shyness for everything we’d already tried had vanished, and he had no problem whispering his needs in my ear. Like on our last day in Jamaica when he begged to “kiss Daddy down there again.” Or the day after we’d arrived in the Cayman Islands and we had our hotel suite to ourselves for a morning that quickly morphed into afternoon. We ordered room service and sixty-nined each other into oblivion.