Chapter 15 Jace #2
One afternoon, after a longer prep session, he tugged lightly on my sleeve. “Daddy?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Is it okay if I don’t wear… stiff clothes?” He grimaced a little. “They make my skin feel wrong. I’m worried about having to wear a suit like they said.”
“You can wear whatever you want, cherub,” I said immediately. “Anyone who has a problem with that can choke on it.”
The State wasn’t too pleased when I told them the same.
We practiced the walk from the door to the stand like it was choreography.
Slow steps.
Eyes forward until he found me.
Sit.
Breathe.
Some nights he’d crawl into my lap afterward, utterly wrung out, fingers still twitching like his body hadn’t gotten the memo that he was allowed to relax again. I’d hold him and count his breaths with him, low and steady, until the tremors eased.
I kept a running list in my head—what helped, what didn’t. Cold water over his wrists. Pressure at his shoulders. Silence versus soft background noise.
By the time the trial date crept close, it felt less like preparation and more like building a cocoon around him and daring the world to try to tear through it.
The courthouse still loomed. The beast still waited.
But Elior wouldn’t be walking into it unarmed.
And neither would I.
Well, technically speaking, I would be. No guns allowed. No knives either. That didn’t mean I couldn’t snap Malachi’s neck if needed.
When it was finally the eve of Elior’s day in court, he was practically shivering from the anxious anticipation.
I watched as he paced the living room, the clock on the wall ticking louder than it should have, each second a reminder that tomorrow wasn’t going anywhere. He was a live wire, sparking at the edges, and I knew words wouldn’t cut through that haze. Not tonight.
I stood up from the couch, crossing the room, and caught his wrist. “El, baby.” He stopped, eyes flicking to mine, wide and shadowed. “Let’s go to bed.”
He didn’t argue, just let me lead him to the bedroom. I flicked on the bedside lamp, casting a warm glow across the room.
“Do you trust me?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.
He nodded, swallowing hard. “Always, Daddy.”
I started slow, easing him onto the bed. He sat on the edge, knees drawn up slightly, and I knelt in front of him, hands on his thighs.
“We’re going to shut it all out,” I murmured, thumbs pressing circles into the soft fabric of his sweatpants. “You need some quiet time, don’t you?”
His breath hitched. “Yes, please.”
I reached into the nightstand drawer and pulled out the soft black blindfold. I held it up, letting him see it, giving him that moment to pull back if he needed. But he just tilted his head forward, offering himself up.
I tied it carefully, knot secure but not tight, and the world went dark for him.
His hands clenched the sheets, but he didn’t fight it; he lay back.
Next came the noise—his body finally began to relax into the mattress as soon as his headphones slipped on.
The room’s sounds quieted instantly for him, the tick of the clock vanishing, my voice reduced to vibrations he might feel more than hear.
He was isolated now, senses stripped down to touch and whatever scents lingered on my skin.
I guided his arms up, peeled off his sweater, and let it drop to the floor.
His chest rose and fell quicker, bubblegum pink nipples hardening in the cool air.
I leaned in, lips brushing his collarbone, tasting the salt of his skin.
“Breathe,” I said, knowing he couldn’t hear, but the word was for me too. My hands slid down his sides, tugging his pants off along with his silky lavender briefs until he was bare aside from his chastity cage.
I stripped quickly, clothes hitting the floor in a heap, then climbed onto the bed behind him.
He shifted, sensing my movement through the mattress dip.
I pulled him back against my chest, skin to skin, my erection pressing into the small of his back.
One arm wrapped around his waist, holding him steady, while the other hand trailed down, fingers splaying over his stomach.
No rush—time was nonexistent in Elior’s quiet space.
I let him feel the weight of me, the heat, the way my breath ghosted over his neck. His head lolled back onto my shoulder, a soft whimper escaping. I kissed the spot just below his ear, teeth grazing, then licked a slow line down to his shoulder, sucking lightly until I felt him arch.
My hand dipped lower, wrapping around his cage. Fucking hell, I loved my little cherub locked up.
But that wasn’t how I wanted to do it tonight. I tugged my necklace over my head and carefully used the key to unlock him. As soon as the metal prison fell off, his cute dick began to rapidly swell. I imagined it probably made him lightheaded.
I took his freed cock in my hand, stroking it base to tip with a loose grip. The strangled whine that escaped his lips made me ravenous. He bucked into my grip, hips jerking, but I slowed him down, thumb circling the head, smearing the bead of precum there.
“That’s it,” I whispered against his skin, even if he couldn’t hear. “My soft, quiet boy. I have something new for us to play with today.”
Keeping a hand on him at all times, I reached over to grab his surprise.
The surprise was a cocksleeve I’d picked up earlier that week—soft silicone molded into a tight, textured channel, realistic enough to grip like the real thing but still forgiving for a first-timer.
I held it in my free hand, the weight of it familiar from when I’d tested it to make sure it was good enough for my baby.
Elior’s cock throbbed in my grip, fully hard now, the skin flushed pink and veined, untouched by anything but my fingers and mouth before this.
The thought hit me like a punch: this would be his first time sliding into something and feeling that tight squeeze around his length.
My own dick leaked against his back, aching at the idea of guiding my innocent boy through it, corrupting that untouched eagerness.
I squeezed lube into the toy’s opening, working it around the inner walls until it glistened, slick and ready. Elior tensed against me, sensing the shift in my movements even without sight or sound.
“You’re going to love this,” I murmured into his hair.
He couldn’t hear, but the vibration of my chest against his back might carry the promise.
I positioned the toy at his cockhead, the cool silicone kissing his skin first. He jerked in surprise, a startled squeal leaving him, his hips bucking forward instinctively, but I held him steady with my other arm banded across his chest.
Slow.
I wanted him to feel every inch of this discovery.
I pressed the opening against his tip, letting the rim catch and stretch around the head.
Elior’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp, back arching as the tight heat engulfed him.
Fuck, the way he shuddered—pure, unfiltered overwhelm—made my balls tighten.
This was it, his virgin cock breaching something for the first time.
I pushed the toy down further, inch by inch, watching his length disappear into the silicone grip.
The internal ridges bumped along his shaft, and a high-pitched, keening noise fell from his lips.
His thighs were trembling against mine. His hands clutched at my forearm, nails digging in as I bottomed the toy out, his balls pressing against the base.
Fully sheathed, he panted hard, chest heaving, lost in the sensation of being buried deep.
I didn’t move it right away. Let him adjust, feel the way it molded to him, sucking lightly from the vacuum of lube.
My free hand roamed his body, pinching his nipples to sharp peaks, then sliding down to cup his balls, rolling them gently while he acclimated.
He was dripping inside it already, precum mixing with the slick, and the obscene squelch when I finally twisted the toy made me groan.
“Good boy,” I breathed, starting a rhythm—up slow, dragging the textured walls along his cock, then down firm, seating him deep again.
Elior’s head thrashed against my shoulder, wrecked moans spilling from his lips as the deprivation amplified every stroke.
His hips tried to thrust, but I controlled it, fucking him with the toy at my pace, twisting on the upstroke to hit those sensitive spots inside.
The sight of him—blindfolded, unable to hear, with his cock vanishing into the toy over and over—drove me wild.
I’d edged him before, but this was new territory, his first penetration turning him into a writhing mess.
My erection ground against his ass, slick with sweat, as I sped up, the toy slurping wetly around him.
He clenched his fists in the sheets, body coiling tight, and I knew he was close.
I leaned in, biting his neck hard enough to mark, then licked the sting away.
“Come in it,” I commanded, even if the words were lost on him.
My hand flew faster, pounding the toy onto his cock, the base slapping his groin.
He shattered with a choked wail, hips snapping up as he unloaded, cum flooding the silicone depths in thick pulses.
I felt it through the toy, the warmth seeping back, and kept pumping, drawing out every spurt until he whimpered from overstimulation.
Elior slumped against me, boneless and spent, his cock softening inside the toy. I eased it off slowly, a string of his release connecting them before it broke. He was a beautiful mess—skin flushed, lips swollen from biting them.
But I still wanted more for him, something to keep him emerged in his quiet space just a bit longer. I used the cum dripping slowly from the cocksleeve to lube my fingers generously.
He went still as I nudged his thighs apart, knees bending to give me access.
One finger circled his hole, teasing the rim before pushing in slow, knuckle by knuckle.
He clenched around me, a moan vibrating through his chest, and I crooked my finger, finding that spot inside that made his soft cock twitch in my grip.
He squirmed from the overstimulation, shaking his head for me to stop.
He knew that was useless—I just found it fucking hot.
After a little longer stroking his special spot, his cock began to plump up again, ready for more.
I added a second finger, scissoring them, stretching him open. His body melted against me as sweat slicked our skin, and I bit down on his shoulder, marking him some more as I fucked him with my fingers, curling them relentlessly against his prostate.
As he was about to come for the second time, I slipped my fingers from his channel and tugged on his balls. His belly spasmed as his orgasm receded.
He cried out, an edge of confused desperation in his voice.
I then lubed my cock, positioning myself at his entrance, and pushed in slow, groaning at the tight heat clenching around me.
Once he’d swallowed me to the base, I draped over him, chest to his back, and rocked gently, not chasing my own release yet—just letting him focus on the fullness, the steady drag in and out. His hands fisted the pillow, breath coming in soft pants.
We moved like that, unhurried, until the tension bled out of him completely. Only then did I pick up pace, thrusting harder, balls slapping against his ass as I chased my peak. He pushed back, meeting me, and I came with a grunt, flooding him deep, holding still as I pulsed inside.
I pulled out carefully, rolling us to the side, and removed the headphones, choosing to keep the blindfold on for now.
“You did so well, cherub. You’re always so perfect for me,” I murmured. “How did it feel to lose your front virginity?”
“‘s good,” he managed, his voice gone and his body probably halfway to dreamland already. “Want again.”
“Watching you thrust your hips made me wonder what it’d be like to have you in me,” I said, purring against his neck as I held him against me. “I haven’t let anyone fuck me in forever, but that could change. We’ll see, I guess, won’t we?”
“Mhmm,” he hummed, most likely oblivious to what I was saying.
“Love you, baby.”
“Mm… lub you,” he slurred in his sleep.