“Down boy,” I tease, carding my fingers through his hair and grinning at the grumpy look he tosses one last time over his shoulder in Rhett’s general direction.
“He n-n-needs to get his own Daddy; you’re mm-mine.”
“Damn right, I am,” I agree, running my hands down his back and resting them on his tempting ass. His annoyance melts away in an instant, replaced by a sweet, dirty smile.
“Show everyone I’m yours,” he says, a slight edge of begging in his voice as he hooks his fingers around the edges of my harness and squirms in my lap.
“You want everyone to know that you’re all mine?” I ask, dropping my voice low and husky as I pop the button on his pants. His cock springs free, but that’s not what I’m looking for right now. Returning both hands to his ass, I pull him in for a slow, tongue-heavy kiss while I knead both cheeks greedily.
I hear the murmur of conversation as a few people stop to enjoy the admittedly tame show before moving on to more interesting things. Emerson hum and pants into my mouth, thrusting and grinding against me. I slip one hand down the back of his shorts, and he spreads his legs wider without any prompting, giving me enough room to drag my fingers through the crease between his cheeks and over the hard base of the plug resting snuggly against his hole. I could’ve given him a thicker plug, I know he can take it, but if I’d done that, I couldn’t have played the way I have in mind for tonight.
I tease my fingers around the edge of the toy, kissing him deeper while I stroke the soft, slicked rim of his hole, jostling the plug at the same time. Emerson’s moans vibrate around my tongue, his precum soaking through my shirt, causing it to stick to my stomach.
I break the kiss and ease my finger into his hole, right alongside the plug. My boy whimpers, his eyelids fluttering closed.
“Look at me,” I say firmly, and he forces them open, trembling from head to toe as I start to fuck my finger in and out, stretching his hole and nudging the plug against his prostate over and over. “Dirty boy,” I rumble quietly, glancing over his shoulder to see a couple of men watching with interest from a respectful distance. “Everyone can see what a slut you are for my fingers in your ass.”
“Ooh.” He practically convulses, his cock jerking hard between us. “Don’t come yet. I’m saving this for later.” I wrap my fingers around the base of his cock and give him one slow stroke. Emerson breathes harder, his cheeks turning a pretty, rosy shade. “Once I’m done showing everyone here what a horny boy you are, I’m going to take you home and ride this cock for the rest of the night.”
“Daddy,” he gasps, bucking in my grasp. His cock pulses in my hand, spilling more thick, stringy precum down his shaft and over my knuckles.
“I’m not sure if once will be enough. I may have to cuff you to the bed and use you over and over until I’m finally satisfied,” I purr next to his ear, nipping at his lobe and locking eyes with one particularly jealous Dom a few feet away who shamelessly has his hand down his pants while he watches us play. I add a second finger, the fit getting a bit tight with the help of the plug. I added enough lube earlier that it squelches sloppily with each thrust of my fingers in and out of his soft, needy hole.
“P-p-p-please.” He’s tugging at my harness, his knuckles brushing my sensitive nipples, and desperately mouthing at my throat without actually kissing.
“You wanted a date at the club. I can’t bring you here and then take you home within half an hour,” I reason, doing my best to keep the teasing out of my tone. Emerson whines helplessly, reaching the point where he’s beyond words. I nip at his bottom lip and thrust my fingers inside of him again. “No more talking now unless it’s your safeword.”
His breath catches, his eyes going a bit foggy as he lets himself sink into that perfectly submissive place he trusts me to give him. He manages to give a jerky nod.
“Good boy,” I praise, easing my fingers out and using them to tug at his rim, sending little ripples through his body, his muscles tensing and relaxing, his cock flexing and leaking. “Now, I want to enjoy the club a while. Why don’t we go see if there’s a demonstration or a scene for us to enjoy?”
I make sure the plug is nestled into place and then slip my hand out of his shorts. Emerson reaches for his cock with shaking hands, but I stop him before he can tuck himself away. “I’m going to keep you like this so everyone can see what a horny boy you are.”
He blinks at me a few times, his cheeks pinking again. “Snap if it’s too much.” Maybe I’m pushing him too far for his first time truly experimenting with exhibitionism. He doesn’t snap and doesn’t safeword, just humps his hard cock against me again and then looks over his shoulder to see who’s watching. My sweet, dirty boy.
I help him to his feet, his cock swinging between his legs through the unzipped front of his shorts. From the corner of the room, I catch Rhett watching with a sour look on his face. There’s something sad about his expression under the anger, and I’m soft enough to hope that he finds someone who can take him in hand and teach him the manners he’s sorely lacking. The bratty boy isn’t my problem though, so I focus on the one who is, wrapping an arm around Emerson’s shoulders and leading him toward the hallway with all of the scene rooms.
We find a Shibari demonstration about to start and grab a couple of seats to watch from. The work is absolutely beautiful, as is the expression on the sub’s faces when they’re suspended from the ceiling. I keep my own boy on edge by reaching over and stroking his cock every time I see it starting to soften at all. The man seated next to us makes an appreciative noise every time I do it, which keeps Emerson squirming in his chair as well.
Edging my boy is a hell of a lot of fun, but it has the unfortunate side effect of keeping me on edge as well. The downside of leather is there isn’t any give when my cock starts to thicken and stiffen. When the Shibari demonstration concludes, I help Emerson to his feet again and reach down to tuck him back into his shorts.
“Time to go home,” I explain when he gives me a curious look.
Heat flashes through his eyes, and he moans, nodding his head rapidly.
We barely make it into the house before Emerson is climbing up my body, making the most desperately horny sounds I’ve heard in my life. I help him by putting my hands under his ass and heaving him into my arms. I have enough wherewithal to kick the door closed behind me before carrying my boy down the hall to my bedroom.
My cock is achingly hard, my hole fluttering impatiently. I took the time to prep and stretch myself earlier, and I’m damn glad I did because any semblance of restraint I had was left back at the club.
When I reach the bedroom, I set my boy down on the bed and then kick off my shoes and make quick work of my pants. I groan in relief when my cock is set free, swaying between my thighs. Emerson stays put like a good boy, licking his lips and looking up at me from the bed. I grab the same lube I used earlier to put the plug in him and hastily lube myself up before peeling his own shorts off and crawling on top of him.
As soon as I’m close enough, he arches up and starts kissing my chest, drawing a shuddering breath from me when his soft, lip gloss sticky lips land on my nipple. “Harder,” I grunt, putting a hand on the back of his head to encourage him. Emerson looks up at me cautiously before grazing his teeth over the same nipple. “Fuck,” I sigh, the feeling going straight to my cock.
I reach between his legs and flick on the vibrations for the plug he still has seated right against his prostate. He jolts like he’s being electrocuted and frantically humps up against me, turning his attention to my other nipple and biting a little harder this time.
“Fuck, sweetheart. You’re driving Daddy crazy,” I groan, getting into position so I can line his cock up with my hole.
He grabs onto my harness and jerks his hips, making the fat head of his cock slide against my lubed hole, catching on the rim and sending another bolt of pleasure through me. “Settle,” I say firmly, getting my fingers wrapped around his base and lining him up again.
He practically vibrates with the effort to hold still but manages it like the good boy he is. The delicious sting of being stretched wide settles in the pit of my stomach as I ease myself down on his length. Emerson fists the sheets and makes wild, frenzied sounds but continues to stay nice and still for me.
It doesn’t take long for me to find the perfect rhythm, bouncing up and down on his cock. My hard, heavy erection slaps against my stomach with every thrust. My thighs tremble, and my balls constrict as I ride my boy furiously, getting lost in the fullness and the feeling of his petite body under mine. Emerson kisses and nips at every inch of my skin he can reach, otherwise lying completely at my mercy as I use him as my own personal dildo, clearly loving every second of it.
The sounds he’s making become increasingly frantic, his cock swelling inside me.
“Stroke me,” I grunt. He manages to pry one hand off of the bed sheets and wrap it around my cock, the simple touch sending a tidal wave of sensation through me. I fuck myself harder on his cock, thrusting into his fist with each upward motion.
With a loud growl, my inner muscles clench around him, and my cock starts to pulse in his hand, covering us both in my hot, sticky cum. Emerson lets out a wild wail, the heat of his release filling me, the throbbing of his cock answering mine as I continue to ride him, taking him over and over even as my thighs grow tired, and my orgasm starts to fade.
I have just enough energy to roll off of him, turn off his plug, and pull my boy into my arms.
“Was the club everything you hoped?” I ask once I catch my breath.
“Better,” he murmurs sleepily, nuzzling his face into my chest. I need to take both of our harnesses off and take his plug out, but that can wait a few minutes. I wrap my arms around him and stroke a hand up and down the curve of his spine.
I knew my bed felt empty before Emerson came along, but I underestimated just how full he would actually make it feel in all the best ways. Not just my bed: my life, my heart, everything. I slide my hand up to his neck, his noticeably bare neck.
“How would you feel about a collar, Brave Boy?” I ask delicately.
He tilts his head back and looks up at me with a searching expression. “Isn’t that r-r-r-really serious?”
I nod. “I’m feeling pretty serious about you. But if you’re not ready or a collar doesn’t appeal, I won’t be offended.”
A slow smile creeps over his lips. “As l-l-long as it’s not diamond,” he bargains, and I chuckle.
“Deal.” I dip down for a soft, sweet kiss, memorizing the shape of his lips again, never seeming to tire of it.
If I ask him to move in too, would that be pushing it? Maybe just one serious proposal at a time…
Chapter 20
Emerson
I hate spreadsheets. Or, more accurately, they hate me. I groan and drop my head to the desk. Why didn’t anyone tell me that owning a business would involve so much math and bookkeeping? Maybe I should just hire an accountant. I can certainly afford it, and it will save me a hell of a lot of headaches.
A light tap on my door draws my attention away from the torture of balancing the books. I left Sterling to watch the store for a while, and I’m assuming he has a question about a shipment or something.
“C-c-come in,” I call, a smile jumping to my lips when I see Kiernan step through the door instead of Sterling. “Daddy.”
“Hi, sweetheart. I brought lunch.” He holds up a takeout bag, and my stomach growls right on cue.
Daddy frowns. “Sounds like I got here just in time.”
I smile and close my laptop, shuffling my stack of paperwork messily off to the side to clear the space for us to eat. Kiernan’s eyes linger on the top sheet of paper for a second before he studiously looks away, focusing on pulling the takeout containers out of the bag.
I glance at the paper to see what caught his interest, and I realize it’s the bank statement I had printed out. It’s not something I’m trying to keep a secret necessarily; money just hasn’t exactly come up between us. Obviously, Kiernan is rich as fuck, much richer than I am. But I’m not hurting either.
“Mm-my grandpa left me s-s-some money,” I explain, and he nods. “And…I had some mm-m-money of my own.” More important than the number of zeros in my bank account is how I got them. I don’t make it a habit of talking about my writing. In fact, I’ve never told anyone. Not because I’m embarrassed or ashamed of what I write, but because then they might ask questions that I don’t care to answer. I don’t have anything to hide from Daddy though. He should know about my writing.
“You don’t have to explain. It’s good for me to know that financial help isn’t something you need from me, but we can leave it at that,” he assures me.
“I w-w-want to tell you.” I open the container he set in front of me and dig into the Chow Mein he brought. He doesn’t rush me, simply eats his own lunch quietly while I work out the words in my head first so I can get them out. “I w-write erotica b-b-b-books.”
He pauses with an egg roll halfway to his mouth, his eyebrows shooting up and a slow smile taking over his expression. “You write erotica books?” he repeats, and I nod. “Under a pen name?” He sounds almost giddy. “I wonder if I’ve read them.”
I remember him mentioning that he enjoys gay erotica, but at the time, I thought he was only teasing, trying to get me all hot and bothered simply to see if he could. My cheeks heat. While I’m not ashamed to write erotica, I am a little embarrassed by the cheesy erotica pen name I chose. “Dick Stroker,” I mutter quickly before stuffing my mouth full of some food.
“You’re Dick Stroker? I’m dating Dick Stroker?”
I duck my head and try to hide my grin. I guess he has heard of me. I do have a bit of a following, I suppose.
“It s-s-started for fun.” I shrug like it’s no big deal, even if it has been something I’ve put an excessive amount of energy into for almost a decade now.
“You’re the biggest name in gay erotica. Your books are always at the top of the charts,” he says. My cheeks get even hotter, and I shrug again. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”
Kiernan
It takes me the rest of lunch to process the new information that Em has given me. Not only does he have a substantial amount of money in the bank—side note, we’re going to have to discuss that rust bucket of a car he’s been driving and the state of his furniture—but more importantly, he’s my favorite author.
I thought I couldn’t be more impressed and enamored with the boy, but clearly, he’s out to prove me wrong. And I’m happy to let him do so.
When we’re both finished eating, I clean up the containers and then round the desk, picking my boy up out of his chair and then sitting down with him on my lap.
“Hi, Daddy,” he says with a laugh, resting his head on my shoulder as I wrap my arms around him.
“Hello, sweetheart.” I kiss his cheek. “Read me something.”
Emerson’s eyes go wide, and he gives a quick shake of his head. “I c-can’t.”
“Sure, you can. Your stutter doesn’t put me off. I thought you’d have realized that by now.” I gently stroke my fingers up and down his spine.
He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth and worries it. “I d-d-don’t usually stutter as much when I read,” he admits. “I’ve thought about d-d-doing open mic n-n-nights here even.”
“Perfect. Read to me.”
“It’s embarrassing.” Emerson buries his face in the crook of my neck, and I smile, always happy to have my boy close.
“Be brave for me,” I encourage. He whines but wiggles around and opens his laptop. “Good boy.” I kiss the back of his neck.
I wait patiently while he clicks around for a moment, pulling up a Word doc he seems to have been recently working on and scrolling a bit. He takes a deep breath and starts to read.
“H-H-his pretty lips smirk up at me, inches away from the fat head of my cock, a glistening pearl of precum at my slit, threatening to spill over and t
rickle down my shaft, firm and clutched in his hand.
His eyes flicker to the building across the way again, his eyelids drooping to half-lidded. Anderson l-l-licks his lips, his breath fanning over my cock, throbbing hard and painful. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and my hips twitch, urging me to grab his cheeks, force him to part those pretty lips, and fuck his mouth until it’s dripping with my cum.
“Do you think anyone can see us out here?” he asks breathlessly. My first instinct is to reassure him we’ll be fine, no one will see. But the hint of excitement in his eyes tells me that’s not what he wants to hear.
I shouldn’t be surprised that his current work in progress has an exhibitionism kink. In fact, now that I’m thinking about all of the Dick Stroker books I’ve read, there are more than a few with public and semi-public sex. I know he gave me a list of his fantasies, but it wouldn’t hurt to brush up on the books again as well. While he reads, I slip my hand into his pants and tease his soft cock with my fingertips until it starts to swell and stiffen.
Emerson squirms and stops reading.
“Keep going,” I command, wrapping my hand fully around his growing erection and stroking him slowly.
“MMM-M-maybe. It’d be easy enough for someone to look out of their window across the street, only one floor up. They might not even be trying to watch, not at first. They might be horrified, and then a little curious…” His breath hitches, and he thrusts into my grip.
“What’s going to happen? Is someone watching?” I prompt, and Emerson nods. “Keep reading,” I whisper near his ear.
“Anderson mm-m-moans, and his mmm-mouth wraps around my cock…” I drag my thumb over the head of his cock, drawing another whine from his throat. “Daddy,” Emerson gasps.
“Focus, baby, there’s a blowjob happening here.” I nip playfully at his earlobe and gently pinch the tip of his cock, making my boy wail. “Someone’s going to hear you if you keep that up.”
Emerson’s cock jerks in my grasp, his whole body trembling, but my boy pulls through and keeps reading like he’s supposed to.
Brave Boy (Perfect Boys Book 2) Page 17