Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Easton’s kiss lingered as he shifted, easing Darian back with a steady palm to his chest. The bed below them dipped as Easton guided him down, never breaking the kiss, just changing the angle until Darian’s back hit the cool sheets and a jolt ran through him.
Easton loomed above, his hands finding the hem of Darian’s shirt and pushing it up with no-nonsense movements. “Arms up, boy.”
Darian obeyed instantly, the command shooting straight through him like a current. The shirt vanished, and Easton raked his eyes over him, slow and deliberate.
“God, look at you,” Easton murmured. “Already flushed. You really are a sight when you let go.”
Heat bloomed in Darian’s chest as pleasure and embarrassment tangled together. His skin prickled as Easton bent down and pressed a kiss just above his navel, then another lower, nuzzling at the crease where his thigh met his pelvis.
Easton’s hands were everywhere but where Darian wanted them.
A slow sweep across his ribs, fingers dipping into the soft space above his hip that made him jolt.
A teasing graze along the curve of his spine, his skin tightening in anticipation.
When Easton’s mouth found the notch of his neck where nerve endings gathered and sparked, Darian shivered, and his toes curled against the sheet.
He tilted his pelvis, silently begging for more direct attention, but Easton just hummed against his throat and kept mapping his body like a puzzle to be solved, savoring each reaction. Every touch was deliberate and calculated, denying and promising all at once.
And still, he never touched his cock.
Darian’s breath came in uneven puffs, his hips arching in search of friction, but Easton just chuckled low in his throat, his warm breath fanning over Darian’s damp skin.
Just as frustration reached a fever pitch, Danny’s cock heavy and leaking, and his thighs tense with need, Easton stood. The sudden absence of touch sent a pang of loss through Darian’s chest, but his frustration was quickly replaced by anticipation.
Easton peeled his own shirt over his head in one fluid motion, revealing golden skin dusted with just the right amount of hair, and broad shoulders.
Darian’s breath caught. Every inch exposed felt like a gift, slowly unwrapped just for him.
The defined slope of Easton’s chest, the dip at his waist, the faint trail that disappeared into the waistband of his slacks.
The sight of it made heat coil in Darian’s belly.
Buttons popped free, then the sound of a zipper being drawn down.
The movement was so slow and unhurried, he was sure Easton wanted him to feel every second of it.
Darian’s mouth went dry. The pants slid down muscled thighs, revealing boxers that barely concealed what was beneath.
His heart pounded as the fabric stretched, then gave way, Easton stepping out of the last barrier with casual confidence.
Darian’s gaze roamed freely now. He felt no longer shy and was no longer held back by fear or uncertainty.
The air whooshed out of his lungs. Easton was…
breathtaking. Easton was all hard lines and deep shadows, his body marked by time and strength.
He had muscled arms, and a dusting of salt-and-pepper hair across his chest. His defined stomach tensed as he moved.
His cock jutted forward, thick and heavy, framed by coarse curls.
Strong, thick thighs, long legs, and a heavy cock curved toward his navel, flushed at the tip.
His balls hung low and full, and Darian’s tongue ached with the desire to taste. To serve.
Need pulsed in his spine, his cock twitching in sympathy. He was dizzy with the desire humming beneath his skin like electricity, every nerve lit and reaching. He didn’t look away. Couldn’t.
Easton caught his gaze and smiled, like he knew exactly the effect he was having. “You keep looking at me like that,” Easton drawled, one brow lifting, “and I might forget all about that plug.”
Darian’s belly fluttered.
Easton grabbed the lube from the nightstand and knelt on the bed between his thighs. “Roll over. On your stomach. Let’s loosen you up, baby.”
Darian obeyed, the sheets soft against his chest. He moaned low in his throat as strong hands kneaded the backs of his thighs, spreading them open. The click of the lube cap sent a fresh tremor through him.
Cool slick fingers circled his hole.
Despite expecting the touch, Darian jolted, and the sudden chill against overheated skin made him gasp.
His muscles clenched before he could stop them.
He wasn’t resisting, but he reacted from sheer anticipation.
His body was strung tight, nerves lit like live wires, bracing not out of fear but because he wanted it too much.
Every breath caught, every beat pounded with the need to be filled, claimed, and stretched.
Easton didn’t push. He just stilled, using his other hand to stroke Darian’s back and bottom, as if he was saying, “You can do what you want, I will just wait until I can do what I want.” That alone made Darian’s chest tighten.
Not from anxiety, but with gratitude. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath until it whooshed out of him in a slow, shaking exhale.
“I’m okay,” he whispered, barely more than a breath. “I want this.”
The tip of Easton’s finger remained, patient and present. Darian closed his eyes and turned inward, focusing on relaxing one muscle at a time. Jaw, shoulders, thighs. Letting his hips soften into the mattress. Letting trust overtake tension.
The next breath went deeper. This time, when Easton circled again, Darian didn’t flinch. He imagined the slick glide as permission and not invasion. He was opening, not yielding.
The press of the fingertip grew firmer, teasing the entrance with slow, steady intent. Darian shivered. The sensation was sharp. Something in him had been waiting for this specific kind of closeness. For the way it demanded awareness of his own body and Easton’s touch at the same time.
Another breath. Another beat of his heart.
“Breathe,” Easton whispered. “Let me in.”
Pressure. Darian relaxed and tried to trust. The tip of Easton’s finger breached him, sliding in slowly. Darian gasped, the sensation burning and thrilling all at once.
“You’re doing so good,” Easton murmured as he pulled back, added more lube and pushed back in. “Just a little more.” The finger twisted, coaxing him open, then retreated.
Darian whimpered at the loss, only to moan louder when the cold, hard tip of the plug pressed to his entrance.
“Ready?”
“Yes, Sir.”
The pressure returned. Darian gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to tense. The plug forced him open inch by inch, stretching him wide. He whimpered into the mattress as it slid deeper, brushing something electric inside him. His toes curled. Goosebumps exploded across his skin.
Adding more lube, Easton pushed the plug in and pulled it back out a couple of times until Darian couldn’t separate the pain—no, not pain, but discomfort—from the pleasure and was grinding his hips against the mattress.
Easton slapped his left butt cheek, and Darian panted into the pillow, torn between the sharp hum of sensation radiating from his ass and the insistent throb of his cock beneath him. Every breath dragged across the sheets and every twitch of muscle brought a fresh pulse of awareness.
But even with the warm praise and steady hands, a hollow tug coiled in his gut.
He didn’t just want to be filled; he wanted to fuck.
The want hit hard, too fast to hide.
When Easton’s palm landed on his right cheek in a sharp smack, Darian jolted forward with a surprised grunt.
“Uh-uh,” Easton warned, voice low and knowing. “Don’t pout.”
“I wasn’t…”
“You were.” Another swat, not cruel but firm, ringing just enough to sting.
Darian’s hips jerked, cock rubbing against the bedding. A moan slipped out before he could catch it. His body betrayed him, hungry for every flicker of touch.
Easton smoothed a hand over Danny’s heated skin, fingers lingering in the curve of his ass. “There’s more than one way to get off, you greedy thing.”
Darian bit his lip, heat crawling up his spine.
“I know what you want.” Easton cupped Darian’s ass cheeks, pushing them together and pulling them apart, the butt plug rubbing different spots inside his dark channel, sending sparks up his spine.
“But right now, you’re mine. That cock of yours is for me to enjoy.
” Easton leaned over, his breath warm and teasing against Darian’s ear. “Lie on your back.”
He rolled over with a shiver, flushed and exposed. The movement made the plug shift inside him, sending a bolt of pleasure through his core. He whimpered.
Easton knelt above him, eyes dark and glittering. “There’s that look again,” he murmured. “Desperate. Beautiful.”
Darian reached for him without thinking, needing contact. Easton caught his hand, laced their fingers together, and brought it to his mouth. He kissed the inside of Darian’s wrist, then held it to his chest.
“I’ll take care of you.”
Those simple words settled deep. Darian exhaled, his limbs heavy with surrender, his mind crackling with anticipation.
He lay still, breath shallow, as Easton rose to his knees and began to shift up the bed, that heavy cock bobbing closer. His body eclipsed the light for a moment, casting them both in shadow and heat.
Easton shifted forward and Darian’s breath caught as he watched his Daddy’s thick thighs tense and his muscles flex with each subtle move as Easton adjusted his position.
The mattress dipped, and the scent of Easton’s clean sweat, skin warmed by touch and lust, the faint ghost of cedar from his soap wrapped around Darian like a second skin as his Daddy moved to face the foot of the bed.
Then he was there.