Page 40 of C is for Comfort

“That’s right. I want to look after you and take all your cares away while you’re with me.”

He sucks his lower lip into his mouth. “I’d really like that.”

“I thought you might.” I push him onto the bed and straddle him, undoing his belt and chinos. I drop forward onto my hands and press a kiss to his lips. “The moment I met you at the party, I knew you were a boy who would enjoy being spoilt.”

“Aren’t Doms meant to be strict? Even Daddy Doms?”

“Do you need me to be strict?” I kiss his neck.

“No.”

“Then let me spoil you.”

“Yes, please.”

I get off the bed so I can pull the rest of his clothes off. Then I remove my own. They all end up in a messy heap on the floor.

“Lie on your stomach.”

He obeys instantly, resting his head on his folded arms. He looks stunning, laid out for me. I grab some massage oil and straddle him, sitting over his lower back. I pour oil into my hands and brush it over his skin, moving my fingers firmly.

“That feels so nice,” he whispers.

I smile and apply a little more pressure. He has so many tight knots it’s amazing he’s not in pain. It saddens me that he carries so much tension around with him. From the little I know about him, I know it’s his job as much as Lexi’s injury that’s stressing him out. He’s trusting me to take all his cares away, at least temporarily, and I will, one press of my knuckles at a time. He lets out a series of contented groans as I work my fingers and knuckles into his bunched muscles. Slowly the knots begin to unravel, and his shoulders become easier to knead.

Once his shoulders are relaxed, I move my hands down his back, relaxing one stress point at a time. He moans with each movement of my fingers, sometimes gasping as though he’s in pain.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“A little, but it’s a good pain. It means the massage is doing its job. You really are good at this.”

I smile but soften my touch all the same. His back glistens from the oil, highlighting fine, blond hairs. I keep going until his muscles are like putty beneath my hands, soft and pliable, his worries temporarily eased.

“How are you feeling now, sweet boy?” I ask.

“So relaxed, Daddy,” he breathes.

Hearing him call me Daddy sends sparks zipping through my body. I’ve heard it a hundred times before from several different men, but it never ceases to make me happy. I kiss his nape.

“Do you want to sleep or fuck?”

He wiggles his arse beneath me. “Fuck me, Daddy, please?”

“Your wish is my command.” I leave him to thoroughly wash the massage oil off my hands and retrieve lube and a condom. “Spread your legs,” I say softly as I return.

Corey does as I’ve asked, spreading his legs wide enough for me to kneel between them. I part his arse cheeks and stare at his beautiful pucker, the skin wrinkled and a slightly darker shade of pink than the rest of him.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Aren’t you meant to say that to my face?”

I laugh. “Your face is beautiful too, but right now, I’m blown away by how stunning your arse is.”

Stunning enough to eat. I bend down and run my tongue over his pucker. Corey sucks in a breath and then breathes out, his chest shuddering. He whimpers as I tickle the delicate skin around his entrance with the tip of my tongue.

“Oh, Daddy.”

I smile and greedily lap his arse, making his crack and hole wet. Then I push my tongue inside him, tasting him.