Chapter 15. Liam
His office door is closed, but the light's on. I knock once, then twice. Fuck, I want to keep knocking, but I hold myself back. There’s a pause before the door opens. He’d told me to be here. I am, of course. I always do as I'm told. Good boy that I am. At least for him.
He stares at me for half a second. Then, without a word, he grabs my shirt and yanks me inside, closing the door behind us.
He locks it, then puts both hands flat against the door on either side of my head.
The look on his face is wild, hungry, starved.
Fuck, that's my favorite expression in the whole wide world.
I barely get out a "Hey," before his mouth is on mine.
It's not gentle. It's not careful. His hands are everywhere, first at my jaw, then sliding up my cheeks, then fisted in my hair so hard I gasp.
His teeth nick my lip. He's bigger than me, but I know exactly how to set my jaw and angle my hips so he feels me against him.
His tongue in my mouth, the taste of mint toothpaste, the hot press of his body.
It's all him. Fuck, it's him, it's him, it's him, it's my Daddy!
He lifts me, my legs around his waist, and carries me backward until my ass hits the edge of the desk. He puts me there with my legs spread, Ethan standing between them, never breaking contact with my mouth, with my neck.
He finally breaks away to look at me.
"I missed you," he says, voice hoarse.
"I missed you, too, Daddy," I say, and I try very hard not to cry. It'd be pathetic, as usual, but I know he wouldn't mind it. Every moment apart has been slow torture, and now that he's here, I want to crawl inside him and live there, safe from everything else.
He kisses me again, slow at first, then gathering speed.
He pushes my sweater off my shoulders, then my t-shirt, working so fast I almost don't realize I'm bare-chested until the cold air prickles at my skin.
I tug at his shirt in retaliation. He pulls it off in one smooth move.
The heat of him is incredible. I run my hands over his ribs, his chest, the dip at his waist. He shivers when I trace my nails down his spine.
He kisses every inch of my face, then my neck, then my collarbone, biting gently at the spots where he knows I'm sensitive.
I arch into him, because I want him to know what he's doing to me, want him to know he's got all the power right now and I'm not fighting it, not even a little.
Fuck, he's all I've ever wanted in my entire life.
He slides down to my waist, and for a second, he just breathes me in.
"You okay?" he asks.
I nod.
He drags my pants down, and I lift my hips to help, letting him strip me down to my briefs. He strokes the outline of my cock with the back of his knuckles, and I moan out loud.
He kneels, his hands warm on my thighs. He looks up at me from under his lashes, and the look there is so worshipful, so open, I have to look away for a second. He has to stop doing that, or I’ll combust. It does something to me that nothing else ever does.
He hooks his fingers into the waistband, pulls my briefs down, and I'm exposed to the cold air, to his gaze, to his hungry mouth.
He doesn't waste time. He swallows me to the hilt in one move, the wet heat of his tongue, his throat, the suction and pressure all at once. I gasp, the sound echoing off the walls. My hands shoot out to brace myself on the edge of the desk, knuckles white.
He works me, slow at first, then deeper. He uses his tongue, pulling back just to swirl the head, then diving down again, humming low in his throat. I buck my hips, but he holds me down, taking me like it's the only thing he's ever wanted.
I'm not going to last. I know it. He knows it. He keeps going, relentless, never looking away from my face. My vision blurs, my toes curl, and I can feel the edge coming, urgent.
He pulls back at the last second, just enough to let me ride the wave. I come hard. He swallows every drop, then licks me clean, his hands still stroking my thighs, grounding me.
When it's over, I collapse backward onto the desk, breathing hard. He stands, wipes his mouth, and looks at me with pride, with love.
"My turn," I say, still gasping. "Please, let me please you, Daddy, please."
He laughs, and it's the best sound in the world.
"Go ahead, pet. Do what you know how to do best," he says.
I slide off the desk, drop to my knees, and work open his pants.
He's already so hard it's almost funny, the tip leaking against the waistband of his briefs.
I pull them down, and his cock springs free, heavy and red.
I want to take my time, but I can't. I want him in my mouth, want to taste him, want to make him fall apart the way he just did to me.
I do everything he likes: lick the head, work the shaft with my hand, take him deep until I gag. He curses, one hand gripping my hair, the other braced on the desk behind me.
"Fuck, Liam," he says, voice shredded, first looking down at me, and then looking up, his head tipped back, his Adam's apple bobbing.
I keep going, picking up the pace, loving the way his hips jerk, loving the way I can make him lose control. I reach up and fondle his balls, gently, and that's the trigger. He groans, then tenses, then spills in my mouth, hot and bitter. I swallow it all.
I rest my head on his thigh, breathing in the smell of sweat, of Ethan. He strokes my hair.
"Come here," he says, and pulls me up. We're both half-dressed, sweaty, a mess.
He wraps his arms around me and lifts me off the ground.
I bury my face in his neck, breathing him in, letting myself float.
The best float in the whole parade of floats.
The best cloud-shaped float in the sky. I have no idea what I'm saying now.
We slide down to the floor, tangled together, chests heaving. For a long time, we just lie there.
I close my eyes. I let myself exist in the circle of his arms.
It's only after the heat drains from my skin and the room stops spinning that I realize how cold the office floor is. Ethan is sprawled next to me, one arm still pinned under my neck, the other curved across my ribs like he's afraid I'll get up and vanish.
I don't move. I'm not going anywhere. I press my palm flat against his forearm, just so he knows. He exhales, long and slow, and his grip tightens the smallest amount. Mine.