Page 52 of Don't Say You're Sorry

He splutters out a laugh. “You are not.”

“You’re right, I’m not. The guy looks like my dad.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Your dad’s hot.”

Scowling, I toss the lube next to his head and lean over him. “Don’t play with me, baby,” I warn, my lips brushing his as I find his hole with my fingers. I slip one inside, and he sucks in a breath, his hand coming up to grip the back of my neck.

“Say that again.”

“Baby?”

He nods, arching his back as I finger him.

“My baby,” I whisper against his lips, and he catches himself before he moans.

His eyes flare with heat. “You’re possessive.”

“Mhm. Is that okay?”

“Is it just for me?”

“Only you,” I vow as I kiss him.

He kisses me back hungrily, his tongue in my mouth as I pull my finger out of his ass and slip back in with two. By the time I’ve added a third, I can tell he’s close to begging for my dick, his hips rocking up to fuck himself on my fingers.

“There are condoms in the drawer,” I say as I straighten up. “Want me to get one?”

He shakes his head, grabbing the lube and pouring some into his hand before reaching down between us and grabbing my dick. I groan at his impatience as he slides his hand up and down, getting me wet. Widening his legs even more, he uses both hands to guide the tip to his hole, where my fingers are still inside him, stretching him thoroughly.

He doesn’t ask me if I’m negative. He probably should, and if I were anyone else right now, I know he’d insist they use a condom. But he doesn’t because he knows I’d never do anythingto put him at risk. He trusts me completely, and it lights me the fuck up inside. He’s my person, and I’m his. Always.

“Easton,” he pleads, and I finally give in to him, pulling my fingers out and fisting the base of my dick. Using his hands, he spreads himself open for me, and I curse, pushing just the tip inside him.

His mouth opens, but he doesn’t make a sound.

“Good boy,” I praise, sliding into him slowly. “Shh.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, and I smack his inner thigh, making him jump.

“Don’t close your eyes. Let me see you.”

He swallows and digs his fingers into his ass cheeks, leaving little crescent moon-shaped marks with his nails, never once looking away from me.

“Does it hurt?” I ask.

“No. Keep going.”

Trusting he’s telling the truth, I push the rest of the way inside him, balls deep, his hot ass squeezing the fuck out of my cock.

“Fuck, baby.” Falling down on him again, I cage his head in with my arms. “Can I move?”

“Please,” he begs.

I rock my hips, and he whimpers quietly, his eyes still open and on me.

“You like being my good boy?”

“Oh my God,” he groans, tipping his head back.