Page 29 of Better Than Baby

The sound of the zipper scraping in its grooves reverberated throughout the quiet kitchen. I palmed his growing erection through the cotton barrier and squeezed his length.

“Mmm, yes.” Aaron pushed my shirt off my shoulders and tweaked my nipples. “Are you gonna fuck me…Horton?”

I snickered, nipping his bottom lip. “Okay, you win. Don’t say that name again…ever.”

“Yes, Daddy. Can I say that?”

“I…oh, yeah, that’s…okay.”

“Just okay?” he purred as I lowered his jeans, splaying my hands on his gorgeous ass.

“No, it’s so good. God, I love this ass. Mine.” I slid my tongue between his lips and devoured him.

“Yours.”

Aaron always gave as good as he got. His hands were everywhere now—one in my hair, the other trailing a teasing path down my chest to my dick.

Damn it, we were wearing far too many layers.

Aaron seemed to agree. We stripped out of shirts and kicked off our shoes while sucking face like a couple of horny teens on a tight timetable. In a matter of seconds, we stood in the middle of our kitchen in our boxer briefs, surrounded by the debris of our discarded clothing.

I slipped my hand under the elastic and kneaded his cheeks, parting them to trail a finger along his crease as I rasped in his ear. “Do you want to go to our room, or can I fuck you here…over the island?”

He spun in my arms and flattened his chest on the quartz surface in response. “Yes, do it. Fuck me, Hort?—”

“Don’t say it,” I warned, shoving his briefs out of the way to smack his bare ass.

Aaron snickered, swaying seductively. “Ow! Mean daddy.”

I wrapped him in my arms from behind, loving the feel of his warm skin as I kissed his shoulder. “You know it.”

I reached around to grip Aaron’s cock while I rocked my hips, nudging his crack. I hadn’t gotten rid of my boxer briefs yet, and that was okay. I wasn’t in a hurry…which was probably unwise. I had deadlines at offices on both coasts and I was sure I’d find a dozen urgent messages flashing on my cell. However, this seemed infinitely more important.

But…lube.

“There’s still a bottle in the junk drawer by the fridge. If you can’t find it, use coconut oil,” he suggested as if reading my mind.

“Coconut oil?” I stepped out of my boxer briefs, stroking my pole lazily as I rummaged through the drawer.

“It’s natural and hypoallergenic.”

“Is it normal to use six-syllable words with your ass in the air, or should I be worried?” I snarked. “No reply necessary. I found the good stuff.”

Aaron chuckled. “Fabulous. Hurry, please. I need you.”

I uncapped the lube and slicked two fingers, gently easing one in his passage…and a second. “So tight, baby. Relax for me.”

He moaned. “I can take more.”

“Not yet. I like stretching you open, and I’m in charge now. Do you like this?” I massaged Aaron’s prostate, brushing kisses on his neck as he shivered.

Yeah, he liked it.

“More.”

I ignored him, driving my fingers in and out while he jerked his cock. The desperate-sounding noises he made were music to my ears. As hard as I was—we’re talking “could pound a nail into a wall” hard—I wanted Aaron closer to the edge.

The third finger did it. He whimpered, resting his forehead on the counter.