Chapter 19 #3
I nodded and joined him on the couch. He grabbed the remote, flipped on the television, and pulled up the Uncharted movie. “I figure if we start with the movie, then we can move on to binge the TV shows.”
Food went down as the movie played and I bitched. This…I won’t say it sucked because it did, but well…movie adaptations only vaguely resembled the original work.
When the movie ended, we tackled cleaning up the kitchen, which didn’t take long since Slone cleaned as he cooked.
“So, what’s your stance on ice cream?” Slone asked once everything looked like a kitchen showroom, since it was so clean.
“Are there seriously weirdos who don’t like ice cream? I mean, I get some people can’t eat it, but to not like it at all as a personality trait? That’s almost as bad as not liking Mexican food.”
“I mean, yeah, probably. Ewen only eats it in the summer, which I think is ridiculous.”
“Blasphemy!” I joked.
“I’m glad you think so,” he said, reaching over to open the freezer door. The man had a thing for ice cream. The freezer had several flavors, from the mundane to the more unique, but something told me there was more than this, given the blush and how twitchy he looked.
“You remind me of how our rookie gets when he’s fucking embarrassed or hiding something,” I said. “C’mon, fess up.”
The pink deepened, but he sighed, threaded our fingers together, and pulled me along behind him.
Tucked behind the kitchen and hidden by cabinet doors sat a pantry, which held an upright freezer filled with meat and a plethora of vegetables, soups, bread dough…
and ice cream. So much fucking ice cream.
“You have a fetish,” I laughed, and I didn’t mean just the ice cream, which looked more well-stocked than some of the grocery stores I’d been in. The man had a serious food hoarding kink going on.
His head, which had been in the freezer rummaging through pints of ice cream, calling out flavors whenever he found a new one, turned toward me.
The lightheartedness I saw on his face when we came into the pantry had disappeared, replaced with a feral, predatory heat that stole the air from my lungs.
He shut the freezer door, grabbed me by the throat, and pulled me close while also pinning me against the cabinets with his body.
One hand skated down to my thigh, pulling it up over his hip to make room for his cock to notch into the curve of my hip.
The other hand slid under the T-shirt he tossed me when we first woke, to pinch my nipple.
His mouth sucked and bit at my neck as he growled, “Yes. Several. And I can’t wait to introduce you to the sexier ones.
I’m especially excited about turning you into my personal cockwarmer. ”
My head dropped back against the upper cabinets with a thud. “Not sure what that is, but I can’t wait.”
He pulled away from my neck, pushed me up to sit on the counter, his full attention glued to my mouth as fingers traced my lips. His thumb pressed against my chin, forcing my mouth to drop open. Two of the tracing fingertips slid inside, over my tongue, only stopping when they could go no further.
“Close.”
I obeyed instantly. The command gave me an idea of what the Marine in him sounded like as the word washed over me with a wave of lust coming along in its wake.
“Now, imagine it’s my dick.”
Oh, fuck. Yeah, I liked dick. I loved it.
In my ass, in my mouth, between my thighs or ass cheeks.
The smell, the taste, the weight of it. I loved it all.
I especially loved sucking Slone’s cock.
So, I sucked; the saltiness of his flesh heightening the need gnawing at my insides.
His free hand pinched and twisted my nipple. Hard. And held it there.
“Stop.”
My brow pinched, but I stopped sucking and massaging his fingers with my tongue.
“You’re such a good boy, brat. Cockwarming isn’t about sucking my dick.
It’s not about getting me hard, or getting me off.
It’s a way for you to serve me. It’s a way for me to tease you.
Sometimes, I’ll want you on your knees while I cook.
Other times, when we’re in bed, I’ll prep you, sit you on my dick, but won’t move.
You’ll never know when or if I’ll fuck you. ”
The thought of being that for him had my cock pulsing in the gym shorts of his I wore. I whimpered, and he smirked, glancing down at my crotch. I couldn’t see for myself, but I knew what he found there, my dick stiffening until it tented the shorts over my lap.
“Such a beautiful, cock-hungry, little slut for Daddy. And here I was, worried you wouldn’t like it.” He licked at my mouth around the fingers still stuffing it full before trailing sucking, biting kisses across my jaw to my ear.
“You’re Daddy’s little pervert, aren’t you? You want me to use you, don’t you?” he asked, and I nodded, whining with need.
“Hmm, Daddy’s personal cockwarming, cum dumpster.”
That did it. I came in his shorts, moaning and groaning like the slut he called me. But I didn’t suck, not once. I held his fingers in my mouth like the good boy he said I was.