Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Theo
Shea's words nearly unraveled me on the spot.
My thighs and biceps trembled, but only with the effort of holding myself back.
I couldn't hurt him—I wouldn't hurt him.
He'd known enough pain in his short life.
I wasn't going to cause him anymore. I was going to hold him, cherish him, and show him the true meaning of love.
I ducked into his neck, licking across the sensitive skin and giving an experimental roll of my hips.
Shea moaned and arched his back to meet me, pressing against my tongue and pushing his heat against my crotch.
"Fucking hell, Theo…" Shea muttered, clearly having had enough of the gentle act.
He pushed at my shoulders, shifting until I laid on my back beneath him and he could straddle my lap.
His skin glistened wetly in the slow light, arousal providing just the right amount of lubrication for him to sink down on my cock in one swift move.
Despite having a thick padded leather panel separating us, I still felt his body heat, the wetness seeping down the leather and pooling in my groin.
Shea raised up and sank back down, eyes rolling back in his head.
My hands fell to his hips, and mine met him thrust for thrust.
His hands blanketed mine and squeezed, locking our fingers together. He bounced on his knees, his hips rolling my dick over that sweet spot inside him. When his head dropped and his eyes peeled open, his attention fell to my chest, and I couldn't even fathom the thought of telling him no.
Shea could have whatever he wanted—my body, the breath from my lungs, and my whole heart.
Clenching the hidden muscles in my stomach, I tugged myself to sitting. Shea spat onto my tits, letting saliva dribble down the hot, tender skin. Like a magnet, his mouth latched onto my left nipple, his hand cupping the right.
I'd never been so into a partner paying attention to my chest but with him?
It was easy. To him, my body parts weren't gender, they weren't conditional to his attention, to his attraction to me.
They were exactly that: body parts. It didn't matter that there was plush skin beneath his touch rather than rigid pecs.
The cock buried inside of him was silicone rather than blood and flesh, and Shea still dripped around me just the same.
It wasn't gender to him, it was… human. They meant sex and arousal…
Comfort.
I threw my head back and moaned, and Shea sucked harder.
Teeth gently sank into the tender nub abused beneath his tongue.
And if I spread my legs a little more and arched my hips just right, every bounce from Shea pressed the leather pad against my piercing at the perfect angle.
Pleasure built quickly, rippling through my veins so violently that I trembled from the sheer desire.
I had to see him.
I had to watch him fall apart.
I peeled my eyes open to see him watching me already, blue eyes shining in the moonlight. The breath whooshed out of my body, lungs burning and desperate for oxygen.
I didn't care.
He could have it.
Shea's moan vibrated my skin, and he popped off in favor of switching sides. The overstimulation sent a burst of heat between my legs, hurtling me toward the edge. I squeezed my eyes shut and gritted my teeth, but Shea only bounced harder and my efforts to hold out were in vain.
Still, I fought the first crests of my orgasm.
That was, until Shea dropped his head to my shoulder. "Daddy…"
And I unraveled. I came hard and fast, fighting to hold myself up through the orgasm.
I cried out, spurting into the blanket beneath me and shoving Shea's head to my breasts again.
He latched on tight. "Come for Daddy, sweetheart," I panted, the waves of my release still crashing into me with hurricane force.
My hand clenched in Shea's hair, nails scratching his scalp.
His teeth sank into my nipple, no doubt bruising the tender flesh.
He came hard as well, release splashing over my lap and creating the most obscene noises while he rode it out, hips hardly even slowing.
My tit muffled the noises he made, and it was a tough decision to wrench his head away to hear the sweet sounds fully.
Fuck, those moans were music to my ears.
Another weak yet passionate surge of pleasure rippled through my body, muscles trembling with the aftershocks.
I massaged Shea's scalp and he licked at my nipple, both of us soothing the stings left behind.
I dropped my head, sweat-drenched hair falling around my face as I whispered soft praises into his ear.
Shea nuzzled against my cheek, our chests meeting with each heavy breath.
Slowly, yet somehow way too quickly, the pleasure faded.
My heart rate slowed, and the song of the cicadas returned.
Deep breaths brought the scent of honeysuckle, sweat, and sex.
I brushed a tender kiss across Shea's cheek. "Are you okay?"
He raised his head and with bleary eyes, offered me a tender smile. "More than okay. Theo, that was—"
"Shh." I silenced him with my lips. He didn't need to say it—I already knew.
Besides, I wasn't entirely confident that even he could summarize what we'd just experienced into words.
Being with him was so much more than just sex, so much more than love, even.
The two of us together was like two souls joining as one, entwining with each other until you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.
Songs were written, movies made about this feeling.
My fingers speared through Shea's sweat drenched hair, lips moving against his like our mouths were made for each other.
Our tongues tangled, neither of us with a single care in the world that life existed outside of this very moment.
When we finally separated, we did so with a smack, both of us licking our lips to savor the taste of each other.
"I love you," he murmured against my lips.
"I love you, too, Shea."
With a sigh, Shea finally lifted off my cock and settled back on my thighs. The moment he did, I registered the pressure in my bladder and it was all I could do not to shove a hand between my legs. "We should clean up."
"But the stars," Shea pouted.
"They'll still be there after." I couldn't help but squirm.
"You have to pee, don't you?"
Heat flooded my cheeks. "Bathroom, boy. Now."
He giggled and stood, and I took a moment both to brace myself for the shift in pressure and to remove the toy and harness from my lap. It was easier to walk without it and now that we'd both come our brains out, I just felt silly.
I didn't have a visible neighbor to either side of me, so Shea and I took advantage of the solitude to dart into the house stark naked, pausing briefly to check for Sophie before padding into my ensuite.
After we'd both used the toilet, I lifted Shea onto the counter and turned on the hot water in the sink.
From his position, he was level with my chest, and he brushed my tender breasts with his thumbs.
"I bruised you," he murmured and sure enough, my nipples were sore under his touch.
"I don't care."
"But I hurt you."
"And I loved it." I dampened a cloth beneath the warm water and wiped Shea clean. "Boy, you could break every bone in my body, and I would turn around and thank you for it."
Shea laughed, but I was serious. Bite marks, bruises, cuts, or scrapes—the man sitting in front of me could do whatever he wanted to me, so long as he stayed right where I could see him, touch him—hold him.
In nothing but underwear we returned to the backyard, this time letting Cujo out of his room to join us.
He bounded around the yard, inspecting his various spots and apparently getting into a heated debate with a turtle who’d apparently deeply offended his ancestors.
I laid on my back, letting Shea curl up against my side and rest his head on my chest. He watched the stars, and I watched him, holding him close and pressing kisses to various parts of his body that I could reach without disturbing him too much.
I was only distracted by a mass of brown and white fluff strutting past—mouth hanging open and drool spilling out the sides, which could only mean he had something. I groaned and disentangled myself from Shea. "Cujo, what have you got?"
Naturally, the dog took that as a challenge and took off running.
With another frustrated sound, I got to my feet and chased him down.
Shea found it hilarious, laughing from his spot on the blanket.
Finally, it was him who summoned the beast and caught him long enough for me to catch up.
Steeling myself, I stuck my hand into Cujo's massive, slobbery mouth and worked his treasure free.
The whole time, he stared at me like I'd ruined his entire life.
With the object in my hand, I crooked a brow at Shea, who'd begun blushing so bright that his face nearly glowed.
The fucking peach.
I could only laugh, digging the pit out before returning it to Cujo, who practically hmphed.
He took it happily, strutting off to enjoy it elsewhere where I couldn't possibly take it away from him again.
"I hope he enjoys it," I said, taking my spot next to Shea again.
"It'll be the last peach he ever eats. I don't think I can look at them the same way again. "
"Me either," Shea chuckled, fingers drifting dangerously close to my waistband. He slipped behind the elastic, teasing the apex of my thighs until dampness began to build once more. Eventually, my hips rocked and I spread my legs…
Then Shea yanked his hand free. "Look!"
I blinked away the lust clouding my vision, following where he pointed at the sky. A cluster of shooting stars passed by, streaks of silver across a blanket of navy. A smile tugged at my lips. Shea gasped, utterly astonished. "What are you going to wish for?" he asked.
He was joking, right? I’d spent every day of the last ten years, countless nights hoping, wishing, and praying that I could have this exact scenario--him.
It didn't matter to me what his name was, what his pronouns were or what fucking body parts laid under his clothes.
Those, though perfect, were material things compared to the joy he brought to my heart by his mere existence.
"Daddy? What's wrong?"
My heart leapt. “Da,” “Daddy,” “Theo…” I didn’t care what the hell he wanted to call me. He was here, and he was looking up at me with shining blue eyes that gazed at me like I held the answers to the universe.
"I don't need to wish for anything," I finally murmured, too afraid to speak too loudly and ruin the deep intimacy of the moment. "I've got everything I could ever want."