Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Cole
Neither of us moved. No one wanted to.
You couldn’t have paid me to let go of Peyton. They fought to catch their breath while I peppered kisses across their collarbone. Red marks danced up their skin like a treasure map, leading to the deep, angry bruise settling on their neck.
Mine. Peyton watched me with lust-blown eyes, the rosy tint of post-orgasmic bliss coloring their cheeks.
Their gaze flitted to my neck, where I felt the heat of their own bite forming.
They grinned, and that’s when the fight left them.
Peyton slumped against me, chest heaving.
Chuckling, I pressed a kiss to their hair. “You okay?”
“Tired.”
“Why don’t we go back to bed?”
“You don’t have to tell me twice. But you might have to carry—ah!”
Hands under their bare ass, lifted them off the table and carried them through the house, to my bedroom, and into the ensuite, where I sat them on the counter.
“Cold!” They protested.
I was already wetting a cloth beneath warm water. “Don’t worry, little one; I’ll warm you up in a minute.”
Blushing, Peyton leaned back on the counter while I cleaned them. “So… calling you ‘Daddy’ turning sex isn’t off the table?”
“Absolutely not.” They squirmed when I brushed their most sensitive places—but it was short lived.
Upon another pass with the cloth they sighed, and their eyes fluttered shut.
Gently, I let my thumb circle them, only for a moment.
Just when their hips began to roll against my finger, I stopped.
They whined, but I only patted them dry. “You need rest right now, sweetheart.”
Ignoring the grumbles, I tossed the cloths into the laundry basket. “Do you need some privacy?”
Bashfully, they nodded. I didn’t hesitate this time, pulling them into me and kissing them passionately on the lips. Our tongues tangled briefly before I pulled back, removing myself from the room before I lost it. “I’m going to go clean up the kitchen. I want you in bed by the time I get back.”
I swept the half-full mugs away, emptied them, then put them in the sink and wiped up the table…
and the floor. God, I couldn’t remember ever coming so much—or so intensely—in my life.
Peyton brought out something in me that I never knew existed.
Those tiny sparks I thought I’d imagined over the years had exploded into fireworks that put the Fourth of July to shame.
But what was Jesse going to think?
There was no use in pretending that this was a one-time thing. I’d had a taste of Peyton McKauley, and I wasn’t going to rest until I’d devoured every piece of them.
After a while, I noticed that they were suspiciously quiet. I returned to the bedroom. Gentle sighs crept around the cracked door, and I nudged it open.
Peyton lay in the middle of my bed, wearing nothing but another one of my t-shirts. They’d kicked the blanket away and were openly touching themself, turning to look tame when I appeared in the doorway—and their hand picked up the pace. Ah, my little Peyton liked to be watched.
My cock hardened so quickly that I grew lightheaded from the rush of blood.
I leaned against the frame for support, crossing my arms over my chest. My mouth watered.
Perhaps I should have admonished them, but my dick throbbed, making it clear who was in control.
“Is that what you’re supposed to be doing? ”
Peyton’s eyelids fluttered, and their hips rocked into their palm. “You said I had to be in bed,” they said, breathless. “I’m in bed—oh…”
Christ, I had my hands full, but I could worry about that later.
Right now, their thighs quivered, pace falling uneven. They were close, and I wanted them to crash over the edge with my name on their lips. “Can you come again for me, baby?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
This person was going to kill me. “Go ahead. Let me watch you fall apart for me.”
Peyton moaned, speeding up the circular motions on their spot.
Their skin glistened in the dim lamplight, soaked from their arousal.
Shit, I’d never seen someone get so wet before.
It turned me the fuck on. Fighting the urge to squirm, stepped into the room, moving to the foot of the bed for a better view.
I leaned against the dresser, clenching hard onto the surface to hide how much my own muscles twitched.
The sounds coming from Peyton were filthy and erotic—they were perfect.
They peered down their body at me, and the pink that decorated their cheeks was quickly becoming my favorite color.
I clocked the moment it happened, when this became so much more than sex; so much more than me taking care of them.
If I was honest, it happened years ago, the moment they looked in my eyes and introduced themself.
Standing there, staring at each other from across my bedroom, Peyton and I shared such an intimate moment that both of us crashed over the edge. The force of my orgasm surprised me, and I struggled to stay standing. Peyton’s legs shook, and they snapped their thighs shut against the pressure.
“Hell no,” I snarled. “Let me see.”
Peyton whined, prying their legs apart and easing the pressure on their fingers—but they hadn’t come yet.
They were fighting it, and I wasn’t going to have that.
I charged across the bed, shoving two fingers in to the knuckle.
Soaked, Peyton took them easily. They quivered around me, dancing on the edge of their release.
I flattened my free hand over their lower belly, gently adding pressure to massage that sweet spot buried deep inside them. “Come for me, Peyton.”
A strangled noise, and they clenched around my fingers. “I’m gonna…”
“I know, baby. Come for me.”
With added pressure on their belly, they did.
Their walls tensed, and a burst of hot liquid spurted over my hand.
“That’s it, baby…” I stroked, and they did it again, snatching their own fingers away, too sensitive to take it anymore.
I worked them through the release, thoroughly drenched by the time they were finished. “Good job.”
Once they fully relaxed, I cautiously removed my fingers and fetched another cloth from the bathroom.
Exhaustion finally won out, and Peyton was well on their way to sleep by the time I returned.
Changing the sheets would just have to wait.
Instead, I wiggled a towel under their hips, changed my pants, and climbed into bed next to them.
They shuffled over, laying on my chest and winding our legs together. “Do we have to talk about it?”
“Later,” I said, combing through their sweat-drenched hair. “You just rest now.”
Sometime later, I woke up alone. After detouring to the bathroom, I went in search of Peyton.
Their clothes were gone, but I knew they couldn’t have gone far.
As I walked through the living room, catching sight of them through the French doors leading off the kitchen.
They were on the back deck, staring out at the snow-covered ground with a hot drink in their hands.
For a moment, I stood there and admired the sight.
They fit into my life so perfectly, and I found myself wondering why I’d waited so goddamn long to do something about it.
I glanced at the Christmas Tree beside me, able to pinpoint the exact spot they’d gotten distracted by their favorite movie.
I usually decorated that tree myself—then they would come over and rearrange everything.
I pretended to be annoyed for the amusement alone.
It always looked better when they did it, and it made them happy.
Forcing myself away from the image in front of me, I got dressed and went to join them.