Chapter 14
KAIRO
Malcolm has awakened a fucking hurricane of shit inside me. His threat about being my Daddy shouldn’t make my dick twitch with excitement. It shouldn’t fill my chest with anticipation and my gut with want. It shouldn’t make a loud voice in my head scream, Yes, Daddy!
His dark eyes glitter in the dim morning light. I’m only vaguely aware that my hand is still cupping his balls. His lips curl a little when I don’t answer. “That what you want, baby? You want a Daddy?”
I swallow hard because… fuck if I know what I want. All I manage is a few rapid blinks. “I want you to fuck me,” I croak.
I’m beginning to be predictable. That’s what’s happening right now.
My request is always for Malcolm to give me an orgasm in some fashion.
I might think it’s because I’ve had a very long dry spell.
For practically my entire life, since I’m not truly into the hookup scene and I refuse to put myself ‘out there’ to meet someone.
Which means orgasming with someone else happens few and far between.
Maybe I’m simply sex starved, and he’s feeding me what I’ve lacked for the last… fuck, I’m almost thirty-eight. If we’re being na?ve, that means it’s been almost twenty years since I’ve sucked at getting laid.
No matter how much I’d like to convince myself that I’m simply sex starved, I know that’s not what’s happening here.
Not with his baby girls and good boys. And now, the promise of Daddy.
I’m not sure what that means to Malcolm, but to me, a deep need in my gut has me nearly blurting that yes, I want Daddy!
Malcolm moves away from me long enough to find the lube and a condom. Thank fuck. He’s going to fuck all the thoughts away. All my fear for Lucy. All my guilt for not being at the office and looking for her with my crew. Instead, I’m here. About to get dicked down.
His mouth comes down on mine as he shifts to prep my hole at the same time. I don’t know why, but I can’t keep my hand off him. His dick is… thick. Like, scarily thick. No wonder it feels like he’s forcing his way into my hole with every single thrust, every fucking time.
Honestly, with as much as I crave the way he fucks me, I’m surprised that I didn’t realize I liked dick sooner.
The few times over the past two decades—ugh!
—that I’ve hooked up outside of the single time in high school, have been with women.
It was easier. It made more sense. It didn’t hurt or make me uncomfortable. It wasn’t awkward.
But fuck, the way I’m desperate for Malcolm’s dick in my ass and the way he fucks me? A fleeting thought about how amusing it is that now I, all my brothers, and five of my six nephews are in gay situations has me inwardly snorting.
Gay situations. Meh. I’m keeping that. I’m not going to say this is a relationship. I’m not sure what Malcolm wants. I don’t know why he’s here. The sour feeling in my gut says it’s not just because he wants to be with me.
Who wants to be with me? I’m nothing but an asshole. Everyone knows that. Why would he want to be with an asshole?
My musing over two generations of my family being gay dissipates like smoke when his fingers curl in my ass. My body jerks as I gasp. The first shocks of pleasure race through my body, along my spine and into my scalp, making my hair feel prickly. Down into my balls, making it feel like they jump.
Malcolm turns me over, and I lose my grip on his cock.
His fingers remain in my hole—three, oh fuck, now four.
I moan embarrassingly loud as I press my face into my pillow.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck! My legs spread wider on their own, making sure he has all the access he needs to press his fucking hand into my ass.
Not that he actually tries.
He gently pulls his fingers out, and I feel the way he hovers over me. The big, blunt head of his cock presses against my hole. He sinks inside me at the same time his body comes down on mine and curls around me like a vise.
My whines are loud, high-pitched, and everything inside me shakes as he fills me with tremors and desire.
“This what you want, baby girl?”
“Yes,” I hiccup.
“Yes, what? Say it.”
I want to refuse. I want to ignore the fact that I might want him to be Daddy.
“Say it like a good boy,” Malcolm grunts as he spears me on his cock like a skewer.
“Yes, Daddy,” I gasp. He has me curled in such a way that my arms are locked above my head. I can move my elbows so my hands flail up and down. Otherwise, I’m spread like a frog as he fucks me like an animal. He’s even snarling, that sexy growly sound that picked up tenor at my words.
“Yes, Daddy,” I cry again. “Please, Daddy.”
I’m not sure how it’s possible, but he fucks me like a madman. His growls fill the room. Fill my head. His ramrod-hard cock slams into me painfully, making my brain spin in my head with a well of pleasure.
The way he grips me and fucks me, the way he keeps growling how I’m a good boy, his sweet, sexy baby girl, has Daddy coming out of my mouth, over and over and fucking over again.
I’m surprised when he comes first. As many times as Malcolm and I have fucked or he’s gotten me off, he’s never come first.
He turns me over right away and sinks down between my legs. His mouth swallows my dick, fingers lodging in my ass and curling into my prostate as he sucks me down. Still, I chant Daddy. Daddy. Please, Daddy. Yes, Daddy. More, Daddy.
My body is splayed open for him. My hands grip the edge of the bed over my head as I somehow lie entirely lax for him, save for the way my hips thrust down on his fingers. Fucking myself on his fingers.
“Daddy,” I scream as my orgasm slams at the surface hard. “Daddy, I want to come on your cock,” I beg.
Everything inside me feels entirely out of control as I beg for his dick back inside me. I’m desperately trying to keep my orgasm from exploding out because I need his dick inside me first.
I beg over and over, my body now thrashing as tears streak down the sides of my face and into my hair, until finally Malcolm gives me what I want. He rolls me again and shoves his dick back inside me.
“Daddy!” I cry as he once more begins plunging inside me. Hard, deep, thick. I grip his hair as I try to let go of my orgasm now that his dick is punishing me again. But now it’s stuck. Now it just simmers at the surface, threatening to roll over but not managing.
I’m crying, begging for another reason. I need to come.
“Please, Daddy,” I sob. “I need to get off. Make me get off, Daddy.”
“Come for me like a good boy,” he growls into my mouth, each word punctuated with a harsh snap of his hips. “Come for me. Be my good boy and come on my dick.”
“I’m trying,” I cry. I feel like I’m drowning in my tears now. “I can’t. It’s stuck, Daddy.”
His thrusts suddenly stop as he buries his fat dick deep. I gasp as a weird rush of heat burns its way through me. His fingers slip between mine, and he grips my hand tightly. I don’t know what fucking weirdness he just managed, but my orgasm suddenly slips over, and I come, choking for air.
It’s not a quick orgasm. I think I feel it shudder through my body for a very long time, even after I’m finished coming. Even after my balls are empty.
Malcolm’s chest heaves against my back. His breath is hot on my neck. I stare at our linked hands with tears in my eyes.
“Such a good boy,” Malcolm murmurs, pressing soft kisses to my neck. “That what you needed? Just need to have my cock inside you, making sure you know I’m part of your body?”
I nod, unable to find words.
“So good for your Daddy, aren’t you?”
A ridiculous whimper comes out of my throat, and I wince at the sound.
Malcolm doesn’t comment on it. He doesn’t ask or demand that we have a conversation.
Like he seems to have done from the moment he stepped into my office almost three months ago, he knows what I need.
He never forces me to talk about something.
He simply answers the need in me, adjusting the dynamic between us when it’s ready to evolve.
Malcolm continues to murmur in my ear. All the things he usually does, but now he’s adding in reference to my Daddy. I can’t decide whether it makes me burn with desire or heat with something softer. Something far more frightening than being fueled by lust.
I’m lying to myself. I know exactly what it is. It’s not lust at all, but an unanswered need in me to be important to someone. To be wanted and loved and the center of their attention. The focus of their desires. The only person who matters to them.
Malcolm gives me all of that. He has since the day he forced his way into my office with flowers and lunch, calling me a good girl.
He ripped the ground out from under me, forcing just a taste of his company on me and then leaving me alone so I could process the interaction and the way it had already begun to burrow inside my chest.
My eyes dry, and I see our linked hands more clearly.
It’s horrifying to realize that I’m holding his hand in mine with a death grip.
Like he might fade away if I loosen my hold.
I can’t look away. I can’t stop staring at this simple contact.
Holding hands is something you do with siblings or your parents when you’re kids.
There’s so little intimacy in the contact.
Why does this one place where our bodies touch feel the most important?
His body is on mine. His weight pins me to the bed.
His fat cock, still hard, is lodged in my ass.
His lips press to my ear as he murmurs all the things my heart longs to hear.
Our legs are tangled. His heartbeat is steady against my racing one.
But this one place where our bodies connect has emotion lodging in my throat. This is going to undo me like nothing else, and I’m fucking terrified.
“Sleep, baby girl.”
“I can’t,” I say reflexively. “I need to get back to work.”
“Sleep first. Then we’ll go to work and not leave again until we find Lucy.”
I should insist. I should demand. I should…
get away from him so I can reinforce my protective walls.
Instead, my eyes droop as Malcolm’s soft, soothing, deep voice lulls me to sleep, saying all the things I’ve longed to hear for so fucking long.
He throws my name in every few minutes, as if he understands that I don’t want generic words.
I want to know that he’s talking to me. He’s talking about me. He wants me and me alone.
I’m not ready to let him in. I can’t. I’ve been nothing to everyone my entire life. I’m not sure I can trust that Malcolm sees me differently.
He’s my brother’s crony, I desperately remind myself.
He’s here because Jalon sent him here. As I fall deeper into sleep, the words I try like fuck to hang on to slip away, and I’m left with nothing but the amazing man on top of me, inside me, all around me as he whispers in my ear that I belong to him.