Chapter 5 #2
On the most basic of levels, maybe, but I can work with that. I can do everything in my power to make sure it transforms into the kind of need I want for myself.
“Stay here, baby boy,” he says softly, his face relaxing into a tenderness that feels almost cloudlike.
He leans in for a whisper of a kiss before walking to the other side of the room, to a cabinet, where he opens a drawer, grabs something, and comes back quickly.
I see it’s a strip of five condoms and a bottle of lube, and my heart starts a thrumming beat again.
Standing tall, just by my hip, he goes to finish undressing, shouldering off his shirt slowly, sensually. It’s enough for my dick to take notice, to start hardening again.
I hold my breath when his hands lower to his pants, when he pushes them down until the fabric pools on the floor. But I can’t focus on that because he’s right in front of me, naked, his long cock thick and hard, red enough that I know it has to be at least a little uncomfortable for him.
My mouth waters at the thought of rolling off the couch and kneeling in front of him, letting him use my mouth for his pleasure, but he’s the one kneeling on the floor before I can make a move.
“For tonight we’ll stick with red, green, and yellow. Okay, baby?” he asks and cups my head gently, gazing down at me with a soft smile that I have no clue how he can pull off with that hard-on.
“Okay, Daddy.”
“Good.” He leans in for another kiss then straightens, keeping that smile intact. “I’m going to take care of you tonight. I’m going to tease you a little, prep you for me, and you just have to lie there and tell Daddy how it feels, okay?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Good boy,” he whispers, and there’s a teasing edge to his voice that makes me snort softly.
Another quick kiss, and then he’s reaching for the lube, spreading a generous amount on his index and middle fingers, and then he pats my thigh.
“Feet on the sofa and spread your legs for me, baby boy.”
I comply instantly, and get a pat on my abs for it. I contract them at the contact, and get such a thrill by his responding hum of appreciation.
He circles my hardening dick with his free hand and reaches down with the other, stroking my balls with a feather-soft touch before circling my rim with one finger.
“So pretty,” he says, almost to himself.
He proceeds to put on a masterclass in teasing, stroking my dick every once in a while with an almost lazy effort, while slowly—very slowly—loosening up my hole with soft touches and gentle pushes of the tip of his finger.
It takes me no time to be fully hard again and ready for him, but I hold out for what I can only assume is ten minutes before I’m full-on begging again.
“More, Daddy. Please.”
“Not yet, baby. You’ll take three of Daddy’s fingers, then I’m going to taste your sweet hole, and then you’ll get Daddy’s cock.”
It sounds like heaven and hell at the same time, so I bite my lip and fist my hands by my hips, willing my body to hold out, to take every ounce of pleasure he’s doling out and wait for the moment when he finally gets inside me.
When he finally pushes that second finger in, it slips in easily. My hips twitch and lift up with the urge to thrust into his hand.
Jake seems to have forgotten he has my dick circled because he strokes down quickly after that, but then again I get nothing but soft murmurs and his two fingers pushing inside me torturously slowly.
Until he curves them and hits my prostate.
“God,” I shout, my voice coming out guttural. “Please,” I plead again, and from then on it’s the only word I’m capable of saying.
Through the slow stretching, through his careful addition of a third and final finger, and then when he settles between my legs and laps at my hole before licking into me with a type of precision and thoroughness I never knew could exist.
All the while, my eyes stay locked on his face, cataloging every tiny, miniscule change in expression. Every time his eyes grow darker with focus, soften around the edges when I make a sound he apparently approves of, the way they light up every time I beg him to just please fuck me already.
I’m learning the language of him, and when he finally puts on the condom and kneels in front of me, instructing me to pull my legs up by the back of my knees, and pushes into me, I know I will not only never be the same, but I’ll do whatever it takes to convince him we need to happen.
I can’t lose him.
It’s no wonder, then, that when he’s finally fully settled inside me, when I feel the heat of him warming me from the inside in a way that’s as much comfort as electrifying, that I pull him down and hold on to him for dear life.
I try to convey my devotion through a desperate kiss, and in return, I get willingness from him.
When I relax around him at last, and he shifts his hips back to pull almost all the way out of me only to snap them forward with a force that leaves me breathless, I can only breathe against him, lips unmoving but never breaking that connection.
And I keep holding on.
“Fuck, baby boy, you feel fucking amazing.”
His voice, gone deeper, vibrates through my chest. It has goosebumps breaking out from my shoulders to my toes.
Every thrust hits my prostate dead on, insistent and demanding, never giving enough relief or absence for the pleasure to regulate. It’s like I’m connected to a power tower, ready to explode at any second.
The way his belly brushes against my dick, trapping it between us, is simply another form of teasing, one I never thought could be almost an afterthought.
“Please don’t stop, Daddy,” I whine against his mouth.
“Won’t, Timmy,” he says between panting breaths. “Not until you come.”
“No, I—” Fuck, there’s no way of getting enough oxygen into my lungs to explain what I mean. “I’ve been about to come for like hours,” I say, more petulant and demanding than I mean to. “I don’t want you to stop even after I co-ooome.”
My cum spurts out between our abdomens as I come untouched for the first time in my life.
“Do—don’t stop,” I manage to grind out through the warmth spreading from my center to my chest and legs.
“Jesus, fuck,” he shouts now, and a moment later I feel the rhythm of his movements stumble, shift, then scatter.
He buries his face in my neck, and I know for better or worse, I’m going to make sure Jake is mine.
After twenty minutes of cuddles in silence on the cramped couch, he finally leans up, settling his weight on his elbow, and cups my cheek gently.
Even though he doesn’t look like he’s going to tell me to fuck off, I still tense.
I don’t want this moment to end. I don’t want us to only ever be this.
“Please, Daddy. I want more.” My thoughts jump out of me almost without my permission.
His face hardens so suddenly I flinch back instinctively.
“No, no, baby.” His voice doesn’t come out gentle, but the fact that he calls me baby is enough to relax me at least enough to not bolt out of here.
“I want more too, Timmy.” Serious now, I can see he means it.
“Actually, I’m sure now that I won’t be giving you a membership . . . if that’s okay with you.”
When that last part comes out hesitantly, I realize I must’ve done something with my face to tell him otherwise.
“Yes, god yes. That’s perfectly fine by me.”
I let a smile finally break free, and since I’m not holding anything back anymore, I launch myself at him and kiss him until we’re both breathless.
It’s another hour later when Jake proudly walks me out of his office—though of course we’re both clothed now—and takes me to his home back in Vegas. Since it’s in one of the gated communities on the outskirts of the city, it only takes us about forty minutes to get there, but every second is bliss.
He tells me about how he started Provoke, which is what’s been most important in his life for a long time.
“I understand that,” I tell him honestly.
“I’ve been dreaming about being a professional hockey player since I was four years old.
I thought I’d achieved that dream when I got drafted in the second round and played for the NHL Detroit team my first season, but then everything kind of collapsed, they demoted me back to the AHL, and so I think right now is truly my moment of feeling that ‘holy shit, I did it,’ you know? ”
“I do know.” I sit up straight in the passenger seat when he clears his throat and squeezes my hand for a long moment—the hand he’s been holding since we merged onto the highway.
“You should know that a few of your teammates, besides Benny, and their partners know I’m a Daddy and that I own Provoke. ”
“Yeah, you said,” I remember. I’ve got a very good idea of who those teammates are, but speculating won’t help me in any way. I have no need to know about their intimacies; it’s obviously none of my business.
“Well, if they know you’re with me, it’s a pretty safe bet they’ll figure out you’re a boy. Would you be okay with that, or would you rather we don’t let anyone on your team know?”
The question takes me aback. Not because I want that—because I seriously don’t—but because I can’t figure out if he wants to keep us a secret.
“I really wish you weren’t driving while we’re having this conversation,” I mutter.
“Why’s that, baby?”
“Cause now I’m not sure if you’re asking because you want us to keep this quiet with Chris and Benny.”
The thought of having to actively lie to Benny just a few months after I got him back into my life . . . it’s beyond unpleasant.
“I don’t,” he says firmly. “I’m sorry, you’re right.
I shouldn’t have brought it up when we can’t talk about it properly.
I just worry. You’ve never been in a relationship like this, so introducing you to this kind of relationship isn’t something I take lightly, and I want to make sure you’re not taken off guard if any of them say anything. ”
Taking a moment to think through his words seems like the best idea right now. I don’t want to say something I’ll regret later, and I definitely don’t want him to think I don’t understand the . . . importance of this, because I do.
Some people are assholes, but as far as I can tell, there’s no way in hell anyone on the Pirates team would actually be bad about this, not really.
We’re by far the most accepting team in the NHL, and the least misogynistic one too if the way the guys gush about their wives and our owner is any indication.
“I understand the . . .” This isn’t a time to be shy, I tell myself.
I just had his fingers up my ass. I can speak plainly, I can.
“The sexual aspect of our relationship might not be something for casual conversation, and I don’t expect it to ever be that.
But outside of that, I do want to, like, date you.
Hiding that from your brother and my best friend seems like a useless use of our energy at the very least, though I understand wanting to take time before letting the guys on the team know.
“I expect we’re not going to be seeing much of each other in the next month at least, since everyone’s more than likely taking off somewhere to recover after the insane playoffs.
So how about we go to your place, maybe fuck one more time before going to sleep, then we go on an actual date tomorrow, and we can reconsider this after? ”
The few seconds of silence he takes are nerve-racking, but then the biggest smile blooms across his face as he squeezes my hand again.
“I really like that plan.”
Thank you so much for reading!