Chapter Ten #2
He blinked owlishly, but with my help, got himself onto his side with his knee up, fluffy tail poking out behind him.
Cooper let out a little gasp when I teased him with the plug before removing it. I pushed two fingers inside him to check he still felt loose and lubed up enough to take me, and when I confirmed he was, I didn’t hesitate to thrust my cock into his tight warmth.
“Fuck,” I grunted. “A perfect boy for Daddy, aren’t you?”
“Ungh. Yes. Use me, Daddy.”
I already knew I wasn’t going to last long, but it would be no time at all if he continued to say things like that.
“You can come, but only if you can do it without touching yourself,” I said, slowing my pace down to give him time to get close.
Cooper whimpered and humped the bed a little, which was technically cheating, but he looked hot doing it so I let him off.
“When I come—deep inside you—little fox, I’m gonna leave you plugged with my cock all night so you can keep it warm. That’s what your holes are for aren’t they? Keeping Daddy’s cock warm?”
“Yes! Yes, D-da-daddy. Always w-want your cock in me. F-filling me up.” Cooper’s whole body tensed, and he trembled in my arms as he came onto the sheets beneath him.
A stream of whimpers spilled from his lips, and my cock erupted inside him.
My pulse was in my ears as I shook through what was possibly the most life-altering orgasm of my life.
Tears splashed against my arm where Cooper’s head was resting, and I could feel him shaking. “Shhh. You’re okay. Daddy’s got you. You’re okay.” I wrapped my arms tightly around him, hugging him close to my chest, cock still lodged inside him while I let him cry it out.
It wasn’t long before I had a limp Cooper in my arms, breathing slow and even as he fell asleep with me cocooning him, plugging him up with my cock as promised.
In my bed.
The next morning, it was difficult to wake up.
About an hour or so after Cooper had fallen asleep, I’d untangled our limbs so I could clean us both up.
Cooper hadn’t even stirred when I’d freed him of the leather harness, or as I’d wiped a warm cloth over his hole and checked to make sure I hadn’t hurt him.
He’d looked so boyish. The size and appearance of a big alpha with the soul of a playful little fox.
I’d kissed him on the tip of his nose afterwards, and it’d twitched in some painfully familiar way. I wanted him.
I didn’t just want to fuck him. Didn’t just want to see what reactions I could pull from him in a scene.
I didn’t even just want to pop him in the bath and fuss over him.
I wanted him to be here after work and tell me about his day.
I wanted to teach him how to cook and spank him with a spatula when he got underfoot in my kitchen.
I just fucking wanted him.
And so last night, for one night only, I’d let myself have him. I’d curled around him and covered us up with the duvet. I’d kissed the back of his neck and smelled his hair. I’d imagined going to sleep that way every night, his soft, perfect skin naked and pressed against my own.
But now it was the morning, and the sun had risen. Wanting him, having him, was only a pipe dream, the reality of which would only lead to broken hearts.
Except, for the first time I wondered if I were to get some help to deal with my past, maybe one day it wouldn’t have to be a dream?
Hey. Did you find a therapist?
Jack
Yes. I hate her. Reminds me of you a little actually. Why?
How did you find her?
Fucking google you old bastard
“One minute, I need to pop outside and take this,” I said to Jia when my phone rang with an unlikely caller.
“Jessica?” I answered.
In what felt like a previous life, I’d been friendly with Jessica from Foxholes. She’d seemed a nice omega, and had always been a kind face at the club. We’d barely spoken, though, since I’d found out she’d known about what Max had been doing at the club and had kept it from me.
“Hi, Sir,” she said, sounding nervous.
“Patrick, please.”
“Sorry, yes. Patrick. Um, you can say no of course, but I called to ask a favour. I know you haven’t done one since… well… you know. But… uhm—”
“Please spit it out, Jess,” I interrupted.
“Sorry. We had a rigger and his model booked for a shibari for beginner’s demo this weekend, but he’s broken his wrist.”
“And?” I asked, just to be difficult really because I wasn’t dense. I knew what she wanted.
“I know you don’t like me anymore, Patrick but—”
“Less theatrics, please.”
Jessica sighed. “We’d really appreciate it if you’d consider doing the demo. They were really popular before, and people ask after you a lot. We can arrange a model—”
“I’ll bring my own model,” I said, grumbling.
“You’ll do it?” she asked, surprised.
Shibari hadn’t originally been a core kink of mine.
But Max had been a rope bunny when I’d met him, and I’d learned everything I could to give him what he’d needed.
Somewhere along the way, I’d fallen in love with it.
It was peaceful and methodical and turned people into an art form without feeling objectifying.
But the truth was, I hadn’t touched a rope since we’d broken up.
Every time I even thought about it, I pictured Max in a beautiful diamond harness or his legs bound to his wrists, and it made the hole in my heart fester and burn in my chest, so I’d stayed away.
Only this time, when Jessica had mentioned the demo, I hadn’t pictured Max in rope.
I’d pictured my little fox. Imagined his big, firm body and the patterns the rope would leave on his perfect skin.
I could see how obediently he’d stand for me, eyes cast down and his limbs like that of a doll for me to manipulate and bind at my will.
It made for a compelling picture.
“I’ll do it,” I said.