Page 11 of Rowan’s Renewal (DKAG Summer Shorts #6)

K ayaking with Rowan is even more fun than riding the jet ski.

There’s a calm inlet on the far side of the resort, not really a full river or creek, but enough of a waterway for people to kayak, or hire the stand-up paddleboards and entertain themselves for a couple of hours.

The water on this side of the resort is still and fairly clear; still deep, but nowhere near as fathomless as the ocean side.

Rowan still fusses about the possibility of sharks as we glide our paddles across the blue-green surface of the water, and I assure him that we will stick close enough to the shore that, if he should need to pee, he can leap off and sit in the shallows, safe from any lurking fins and teeth.

Despite his concerns, that makes him laugh. I’ve actually heard him laugh a lot today.

I get the feeling he doesn’t laugh enough, usually.

If I have my way, he will laugh more often than not going forward.

“This kayaking thing isn’t as easy as it looks,” he mutters from behind me, pulling me out of my thoughts. “My arms aren’t going to thank me after this.”

I nod, my biceps straining as I dip my paddle down and effectively pull us forward in the calm water. “It’s a fun workout,” I reply, smiling to myself as he snorts.

“I think our definitions of ‘fun’ are different.”

“Don’t you write for a lifestyle magazine?” I challenge him. “Shouldn’t that include enthusiasm for stuff like this? Picture-perfect scenery, blue skies, the sun—”

“Blaring down on us and increasing our risk of skin cancer?” Even though the words are dry and cynical, I can hear him smirking.

Sassy boy…

I turn my head to glance over my shoulder. “What do you write about, then?”

“I’m more of an editor now,” he shrugs, then grimaces as he strains to paddle us forward against the current, “but my versions of heavenly retreats involve snifters of fine whiskey and crackling fireplaces. No manual labor involved.” He makes another face as he raises the back of his hand to wipe at his sweaty forehead.

“This just feels like— ah! ” He leans sideways suddenly, rocking the whole kayak dangerously. “What the fuck was that?”

“What was what?” I peer over the right side of our vessel, which he is studiously avoiding.

“Well, if I knew, I wouldn’t be asking.”

I kind of like this snarky, bratty side of him.

The more comfortable he’s gotten with me, the more it has come out to play today.

He’s still a very sweet man, but after a couple of changes, I’m guessing he’s slowly trusting that I’m not going to run away.

Or maybe this is his way of pushing my boundaries.

He’s never been a Boy before, so I know at some point I will have to bring out the ‘don’t talk back to Daddy’ rule.

Patiently, though, I ask, “What did it look like?”

“Like something moving in the water.”

“Helpful.”

He uses his paddle to scoop up some water and splash my lap.

“Hey!” I protest through spluttered laughter, “That was naughty, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, well, you were mocking me.”

“You were being vague.”

“It was in the water, and it moved . Fast.”

“Like…a fish?”

He’s quiet for a second, then he laughs. “Shut up.”

***

“Today was a lot of fun,” I say, clasping Rowan’s hand in mine and swinging it between us as we head back towards the main building. “Thank you for joining me.”

“It was surprisingly fun,” he agrees. “Jet skis and kayaks are things I never thought I’d try.”

“And swimming in the middle of the ocean, don’t forget that.”

“Yeah, that’s never happening again. Did you see that stingray go under the kayak on our way back? A stingray , Aaron.” He shakes his head, bewildered.

I can’t help teasing, “Who knew they lived in the wild?”

He stops and smacks at my bicep with an open palm. “Shut up. I just didn’t expect to see one right near the resort.”

“It was only a little baby ray.” It really had been small, its body no larger than a dinner plate, and its barbed tail only a foot long, harmlessly swimming along in the shallows of the inlet. “I bet it would have been more scared of you than you are of it.”

“That” —he turns and pokes his index finger into my chest— “is the Daddiest thing you’ve said all day.” The pink of his cheeks, likely half-caused by overexposure to the sun, deepens, and he ducks his chin as he adds, “And you’ve changed me twice.”

My lips curl into a bright smile. “You like it when I go all Daddy, though, don’t you?”

“If I’m being honest…yeah. I do. I’m just…” We’ve made it back to the elevators and I press the ‘up’ triangle, waiting patiently for him to think before speaking. “It’s going to take some time for me to get used to calling you… that .”

Leaning against the wall, I reach for his hand and I squeeze it. “Sweetheart, it hasn’t even been a full day yet. There aren’t any rules on how quickly you need to get comfortable with saying or doing anything, inside kink or out of it. If you don’t want to call me Daddy, that’s okay, too.”

He’s silent as we step into the elevator, but as we step out onto our floor, he speaks again. “When I said it this morning, I liked it. When it was in our private space, it was easier to say it. But out where anyone could hear it…”

“Ro, I promise,” I assure him as I swipe my keycard over the reader and let us into our room, “that’s totally understandable.

We’ll do everything at your pace. I mean,” taking him by the hand, I wander over to the couch and tug him down into my lap, sitting him sideways so I can look him in the eye, “because I’m Daddy and you’re new to this, I’ll make choices about new things I think you’ll be comfortable with, but you can safe word out at any time.

About anything at all. Even sitting in my lap right now. What’s your traffic light color?”

“Green,” he says without hesitation, wiggling his hips on my thighs. “It’s nice to feel…I don’t know…treasured, I guess.”

Gently placing my hand on the back of his head, I pull him so his forehead is touching mine. “You deserve to be treasured, sweetheart.”

Surprising me, Rowan twists around to straddle me fully, his knees sinking into the leather on either side of my hips. With his wrists looped behind my neck, he shyly asks, “Is this okay?”

“ Hmm ,” I pretend to think about it, making zero attempt to hide my smile, “hot Boy straddling my lap…is that okay? Gee, I’m not sure…” My smile only grows wider as he blushes and lets out a breathy little laugh. Settling my hands on his hips, I nuzzle my nose against his. “It’s perfect, Ro.”

He takes me by surprise again by initiating a kiss. There’s nothing tentative about the meeting of our mouths this time around. He’s confident as he slides his tongue between my lips, and I groan when he starts to rock his still-not-padded crotch against mine.

I lose myself in the slow, sultry movements of our mouths and of his body. My cock hardens and I feel his lips curving upwards, even while they’re still sliding over mine.

“That’s all you, baby,” I tell him during a break for air.

He looks down, grins, then dives in to kiss me again before Rowan asks, “Think you could come from just this?”

“Keep grinding against me and that’s a hell yes.”

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he says before he leans in to kiss me again. His hips undulate faster, with more force, and I squeeze his ass, pulling him in closer, wanting to help him increase the friction.

It’s not long before I’m teetering on the edge, but I’m not quite where I need to be. I have half a thought to ask him to reach between us and release my cock, but his breathing hitches as his body tenses.

“Baby,” I pant as I pull out of the kiss, my hands still holding him in place, my eyes scanning his face while my scrambled brain tries to understand the sudden shift in his demeanor, “what—?”

He reaches between us to grip himself, his face contorting with discomfort and embarrassment. “I’ve gotta…”

Oh.

My cock throbs at the realization and I remind myself not to think with my dick.

I’m out of my usual routine, not having had a Boy in my life for a little while, and it shows.

I’m his Daddy. I should have thought about getting him changed back into his usual pull-up underwear or should have at least talked about the possibility of this happening before it got this far.

“You have a choice, baby,” I hurry to tell him. “You can try to make it to the bathroom, and if you don’t get all the way, there’s nothing wrong with that. Or,” I swallow, trying not to influence his decision by how badly I want him to choose this idea, “you can just let go. Now. Over my cock.”

His eyes are wide, cheeks bright pink. He squirms in my lap, more a potty dance than the sexy movements from moments ago, but it still makes my dick jump and leak precum into my own underwear.

“There’s no wrong choice, baby.” I tell him as I watch the emotions cross over his face in rapid succession.

“I…you really want me to…”

“Traffic light?”

“Y-yellow,” he squirms again, fingers tightening around his crotch while he snorts. “Kind of appropriate.”

I want to talk through his concerns and his feelings, but I don’t think we have enough time for that.

“I’m not going to judge you or shame you no matter what you choose to try, sweetheart,” I tell him. “Daddy’s got you either way. I’m sorry I didn’t think ahead and that you’re in this position because I didn’t.”

His hips rock against mine again and he shakes his head. “N-no. Don’t be sorry. I…I should have thought ahead, too. I just got distracted.”

“It’s still your choice,” I remind him. “We don’t have to do this now.”

Nodding, Rowan licks his lips and pulls his hand away from between us. “I trust you,” he murmurs, making my heart flutter. Then he squeezes his eyes shut, his blush deepening as his lips part, and I feel it.

The rush of heat and wetness spreads over my cock and thighs as the pitter-patter sound of liquid hitting fabric competes with the sound of my heavy breathing and his quiet whimpers as he leans into me.

“Such a good boy,” I croon into his ear, “let it all out. That’s it, baby. Fuck that feels good.” I grip his ass and gasp at the sensations of wet material and heat as I grind up into him. “I’m so — nnngh — proud of you, Ro.”

Rowan buries his face in the crook of my neck, his breath coming in shallow pants. “D-daddy.”

"Fuck, baby," I groan, my fingers digging into the supple globes of his ass. I grind into him shamelessly, chasing down the last spurts of his release.

" Daddy ," he repeats again, sounding more certain about the word, almost like he's begging.

Combined with the sensory overload, the pleaded epithet and his warm breath against my skin is enough to send me over the edge. "Oh, god . Rowan. Sweetheart... nnnngh. "

My orgasm feels like it is wrenched from me, jets of cum adding to the mess that has become of my shorts and underwear.

I'm wet and sticky, and it is all rapidly cooling with the air conditioner set to its most arctic setting.

With my heart hammering, I feel filthy, but in the most satisfying way possible.

"Whoa," Ro breathes, sitting back to peer down at our laps.

The fabric of our shorts clings to our skin, dark patches of moisture spreading over our thighs and down my hips.

His cheeks are still red, and so are his eyes, but there's a shy smile tugging at his lips when he looks back up at my face. "You came."

Chuckling at the awe in his voice, I release his ass so I can cup his bearded jaw. I rub my thumb affectionately over the sharp salt and pepper hairs, relishing at the prickle and bite against my skin. "I wasn't lying when I said this is one of my kinks."

"No kidding." He looks down again. "Wow."

"I am still sorry that we didn't get to talk about it first. To plan it. I really should have thought about your potty schedule before—"

His snort cuts me off. "You really are a Daddy, aren't you? Potty schedule ," he repeats the words with a sardonic shake of his head. "I refuse to call it that, just so you know."

"Do you mind me using the word potty? Would you prefer 'bathroom'? It's just that last night you seemed to sink into some kind of headspace and, I won't lie, it's a habit for me. But if it makes you uncomfortable—"

"Daddy, it's fine. Who am I to stop you from using a word that makes you happy?

" Rowan seems remarkably composed and calm, given the situation.

I was expecting him to panic about it. To be more upset, especially when we accidentally found ourselves like this without proper negotiation.

He looks down between us again and scrunches his nose.

"And I am fighting some kind of headspace right now, I think.

Like...having an accident makes me feel really" —he rolls his neck— "young and vulnerable, I guess?

Small? Needy? I don't know. A bit of all of it.

I'm not used to letting other people see me that way.

Or like this." He waves his hand over his crotch.

"But you really do enjoy all of this. I mean, you.

..you came . I...I've never...This is supposed to feel shameful. I'm not supposed to enjoy it."

My face pulls into a scowl before I can control my reaction, and he laughs wetly, shaking his head again before he presses his forehead to mine.

"I know you disagree with me. It's just going to take some time for me to work through twenty years of different experiences to this one." He sighs, then pulls back again, cringing, "But, um, could we go clean up now?"

Smiling warmly, I nod and lean forward to kiss his lips softly and sweetly. "Of course, sweetheart. Want to shower with Daddy?"