“You mean, I just spent over an hour sitting on the steps doing this assignment that’s not worth shit?”
“No, it’s not useless. You have the basic information. Now we’re going to analyze it.”
I stroked the back of his hand because he looked so devastated. I hated taking some of his glow, but it was better for us to work on his paper now than for him to get an F because I didn’t say anything.
“I told you I was stupid.”
“Hey!” He jerked at the sharpness of my tone, and I lowered my voice now that I had his attention. “I never want to hear you talk about yourself that way again. Do you understand me?”
“But it’s true. I can never—”
“Boy, I’m not asking your opinion,” I cut him off. “I said, you will not speak about yourself like that again. Have I made myself clear?”
He bit his lip, looking tortured. Then he sighed, shoulders slumped.
“Okay, Daddy.”
“Good. Listen to me. Everyone learns at a different pace, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Now eat up so I can walk you through what we’re going to do.”
He picked up his fork and twirled it in his spaghetti but made no attempt to eat it. “You sure it won’t be easier to take the fail?”
“Boy, do I need to get that spatula?”
His eyes twinkled, and he sat up straight in his chair, staring at the space on the wall where the wooden spatula had been.
“If I don’t do my work, I get spatula’d?”
Jesus. I cleared my throat to squelch the snickering laugh that bubbled inside me.
“No.” He loved being spanked with that spatula too much. “If you don’t eat up so we can go through your paper, that spatula will return to being wall decoration and not something I can spank and fuck you with.”
He let out a moan. “I’m so hard, just thinking about it.”
“Then eat up, Ashton.”
He stuffed a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth, the sauce plastered over his lips and onto his chin. I glanced away and followed suit, resisting the urge to lick his face clean.
Chapter Fourteen
Callum
The coffee shop plunged into darkness. I pulled the door closed, then locked it with the key, testing to ensure that it was locked. Although I’d checked the back entrance from inside, I forced myself to scout the business like I did every night I locked up. I wasn’t going to shirk my responsibilities simply because I was impatient to see the boy who was upstairs in my apartment waiting for me.
Hopefully naked in bed.
Earlier, we had both been hot for each other, but his paper had come first. I’d helped him plot out his essay main point by main point and supporting ideas to reinforce his statements. By the time I’d returned to the coffee shop, Phil and I were even in the length of time we’d overstayed our lunch hour. We’d both agreed that we needed to hire someone else to help us run the place.
Not wanting to disturb Ashton while he wrote his paper, I hadn’t gone upstairs once to check up on him, although he was never too far from my mind. The one time I’d interrupted him was to deliver the takeout I’d ordered for his dinner. With his confession that he’d only had a banana for breakfast, I didn’t trust him to eat properly. As long as he was on my watch, I’d make sure he was well taken care of.
I made my way to the stairs and forced myself to take them one at a time. Ashton and I had barely started our relationship, but I’d fallen back into the mode of being Daddy since the moment I made up my mind about him. I wanted to protect him, care for him, and teach him discipline when it was needed. I wanted him to be happy and to excel in his work.
Seeing him work on his paper today had given me some insight into him. For one, he underestimated himself. He had very little confidence in his ability to get his work done. Maybe that was the reason he was doing so poorly. He was so afraid of failing that he didn’t bother to try.
At the door, I paused and stared up at the twinkling night sky. It was a few minutes to ten, and what with running the café and thinking about Ashton, I was tired. I needed a shower, a light snack, and my bed. With my boy in the bed next to me.
“Ash?” I called softly upon entering the apartment, running my gaze over every inch of the place. He wasn’t in bed nor in the kitchen. I didn’t see him in the living room either. It wasn’t like there was anywhere else for him to be in the apartment except for the bathroom.
“Baby?”
I cringed at the endearment that slipped from my lips. Too soon. I hadn’t even called Mario baby, and we’d been together for almost two years. Thankfully, there was no response from Ashton, so he must not have heard.
I stepped back into the living room, and there he was, sitting on the floor, his back against the sofa. His laptop was in his lap, tilting dangerously to the left. The two textbooks lay on the floor to his right. He was fast asleep, his head dropped backward, his chest rising and falling evenly.
He looked so young in sleep, his features smooth without the myriad of emotions that usually flickered, showing everything he thought. The purple bruise over his eye was lightening, but it was still too dark for my liking, and I still couldn’t decide if he’d been lying about running into a door.
For now, I left it alone, though. Hopefully, we’d be able to build up trust between us as our relationship developed.
As quietly as possible, I took up his books, marked the pages that were open, and placed them on the coffee table. I plucked his computer from his lap with ease, the screen lighting up as I accidentally touched something I shouldn’t have.
I set the computer on top of the books, then returned to pick him up. He curled into my touch with a breathy sigh of contentment. As I straightened with him, he wrapped his arms around my neck, eyes fluttering open briefly.
His lips stretched into the smallest hint of a smile.
“Hi,” he murmured, snuggling his head into the crook of my neck. He pressed his lips to my rapidly beating pulse. “I missed you.”
“Me too, sweet boy. Shh, go back to sleep.”
His eyes blinked open again, and he stared at me with a frown. “Where are you taking me?”
I glanced around my bedroom, small, cozy, and much more pleasant with him there. “Daddy is bringing you to his bed.”
“Ooh, I’m so tired, but I’m totally down for some of your loving, Daddy. I love your big cock inside me. It makes me feel so full. When you’re inside me, the emptiness goes away and reminds me I’m not alone.”
His words tugged at my heart. That was exactly the way I felt about him. When he was around, I didn’t feel so alone.
“I love the way your tight little ass takes everything I give you,” I whispered hoarsely, laying him onto the bed. “But you’re tired. Get some sleep. We’ll take a rain check on sex.”
He yawned and stretched, mewling like a kitten. Damn, it was a sin to be so gorgeous. He fucking messed with my head, rubbing against my sheets like that. I was almost tempted to climb in with him and fuck him like we both wanted.
There was a reason I was a Daddy, though. I could restrain myself, and now, he needed nothing but sleep.
“Even if we won’t have sex, I still can’t sleep yet.” He sighed, sitting up in bed. “I must’ve fallen asleep while doing the second paper.”
“Second paper?” I quirked my eyebrows.
He nodded, color flooding his cheeks. “I thought I’d be finished before you came up, so I didn’t have to admit how much of a slacker I am.”
“You can’t complete your paper without a break.” He looked tired, his eyes droopy and red. Just how long had he been staring at the computer screen? How the hell had I judged him to be of little substance?
“But if I don’t do it, I’ll get an F,” he complained.
“Look, it’s after ten.” I pushed him gently back onto the pillow. “Go get some sleep. At least four hours. I’ll wake you at two, and we can finish it. How does that sound?”
“I am tired.
You promise you’ll wake me?”
“I promise.”
“Good.” Another yawn that was so wide he could’ve swallowed me. He smiled at me sheepishly. “Sorry, I’m exhausted.”
I pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Then close your eyes and sleep.”
“You won’t forget to wake me?” he persisted. “I’ll sleep through any alarm, Callum.”
“I’ll wake you. Trust Daddy, be a good boy, and close your eyes.”
He did as I said, a look of contentment crossing his face as he burrowed down into the pillow. I grabbed the end of the sheet and pulled it up to cover his frame. Unable to resist, I dropped a light kiss to his cheek.
“Good night, sweet boy.”
“You’re perfect,” he whispered. “Perfect Daddy.”
No, I wasn’t perfect by a long stretch. He, on the other hand, was the closest to perfection that I’d ever come across. Even with his escapades, something sweet and innocent still existed within him. It boggled my mind how he could be such a wonderful contradiction.
He fell asleep almost immediately. I didn’t move, content to stay there and watch him sleep for several minutes before I finally climbed to my feet.
In the kitchen, I quietly made myself a cheese sandwich, which I ate while watching the local late-night news without the sound. The apartment was quiet, and yet just knowing he was in the next room made everything different.
I snagged his laptop to check the work he’d done. The essay we’d been working on this afternoon was already opened, and I leaned back, drinking a beer, and read what he’d written. This attempt was much better. He’d addressed the points we’d discussed before I returned to work.
And he thought something was wrong with his cognitive abilities.
He made a few grammar errors, which I corrected with track changes for him to see the highlighted notes and decide if he wanted to take my suggestions or not. I double-checked he used the APA style for his citations and references, and was more than pleased he’d followed the examples I’d shown him.
Next I checked the originality of his work via Turnitin. I couldn’t help my smile when the program revealed he had a plagiarism report of less than 7 percent. Perfect.
Since the battery of his MacBook was almost dead, I plugged it in to charge so he could finish his second paper when he woke up. On my way to the bathroom, I checked in on him to ensure he was sleeping well.
He lay curled up on his side in a near-fetal position, the sheet kicked off his legs, his arms around his body almost protectively. He shifted restlessly, the frown on his face an indication of the kind of dreams he must be having.
Ashton whimpered, murmuring something over and over. I sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. I knew well enough the torture that sleep sometimes brought during the night. A truth that we were vulnerable to without the guard of wakefulness to ward off memories that manifested themselves as dreams.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, the words tripping together incoherently. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
A tear slipped out and ran down his cheek. I couldn’t bear to see him so tormented but at the same time didn’t want to wake him when he hadn’t rested enough yet. I rubbed his shoulder, soothing him as I leaned forward and kissed his cheek.
“Shh, sweet boy,” I whispered, trying to restore calm to his restless soul. “Daddy is here. Everything will be all right.”
The promise that rolled off my tongue immediately didn’t sit right with me. I’d whispered those words once before, and they’d turned out to be so false. Back then, I’d had a feeling of importance and grandeur about my role, but I’d soon learned that I was a man with willpower to take care of those I loved, but a mere man just the same. There was only so much that I could do; the rest was really up to him.
It took several minutes, but he eventually quieted down enough for me to leave him while I showered. In the bathroom, I let the familiar insecurities twist my gut. Ashton clearly had a lot going on, just as I’d guessed when I first saw him. I couldn’t believe I’d thought him to be just an empty shell for partying and drinking. What made me think I was right for him when I had my own baggage I wasn’t able to deal with?
I usually slept naked, but tonight I pulled on a pair of boxers and set the alarm, then climbed into bed beside him. I fully expected that, like his, my thoughts would be so consumed with disappointments and failures for me to settle in comfortably.
However, it was almost magnetic the way his body found mine, even though I ensured enough space was between us so he wouldn’t feel stifled. He turned, burrowing into me, and threw one leg over my hip, all while sleeping.
I kissed his forehead, his face the most beautiful thing I was blessed to see before sleep claimed me.
Chapter Fifteen
Ashton
Trapped in a lethargic state of sleep and wakefulness, I moaned, then gasped as my nerve endings flooded with pleasure, and goose bumps scattered over my skin. I pressed my cock deeper into the mattress, seeking relief at the wet tongue that swept across my hole in long, broad strokes.
Dream or reality?
The waves of pleasure roiling through my groin, tightening my cock, didn’t feel like a dream. The hands that gripped my ass cheeks, holding them apart. The tongue that now brushed quick licks over and over, aiming at my hole. Way too fucking real, and I was pretty sure if it continued, I was going to nut real cum onto the sheets.
“Please,” I moaned, raising my hips and spreading my legs to give him more room to work his magic.
“You’re awake,” Callum murmured, his finger coasting just inside my hole as he kissed up my naked back and to my neck. He bit me gently, and I shivered against him. “Cold?”
“No, horny,” I croaked, and he chuckled.
“I was having trouble waking you. I even managed to take your clothes off and you kept on sleeping.”
“I told you I was a heavy sleeper.”
I thrust my hips back, seeking more penetration than a fingertip could give me.
“You have a paper to finish.” He kissed the side of my face, my neck, shoulder.
“Finish me first, please,” I begged him shamelessly. “I’m so hard.”
“Shush. Daddy will take care of you.”
He shifted away from me, and I heard him searching in the drawer. He returned, tearing foil, a sound that was music to my ears.
His fingers returned to my ass, slipping the slick lube inside me with gentle thrusts. I knew we weren’t in the middle of the act yet, but I couldn’t resist, moving my hips back and forth, fucking myself on his fingers.
“I could come just watching you fuck yourself on my fingers,” he growled.
I stopped rocking my hips, my breathing out of control. “No, please. I want you inside me now.”
“So impatient,” he taunted me as he settled himself over me, straddling the backs of my thighs. He moved upward, pressing my cheeks apart while rubbing his hard length up and down my crease, frustrating me, teasing me.
All I wanted was him to fill me up, to feel him inside my body, claiming me. I wanted to hear his grunts of pleasure drowning out my usual noises as he fucked me into the mattress.
“Hold still, boy,” he commanded. “I want to see everything that happens when I breach this tight hole.”
“Tell me,” I gasped. “Describe it to me, please, Daddy. Does it look pretty opening up for your cock?”
The tip of his cock brushed my hole, preparing me for the welcomed invasion. “You look so impossibly tight,” he whispered, his breathing ragged. “How the hell am I going to fit into such a tight space?”
“Oh, make it fit, Daddy.”
“Don’t your worry. I’ll make it fit, boy.”
I groaned as his cock pushed into my hole. “Tell me!”
“Your hole is resisting me,” he said, his hands holding my cheeks punishing in its grip. “But not for long. Fuck, look at that! Tell me how it feels.”
As if my keening cry wasn’t enough? I clutched at the bedsheets. “So fucking full, Daddy,” I cried out as he continued to push inside my body. “Like I can’t take another inch of you.”
“But you will, won’t you?”
“Yes, Daddy, all of it. I want all of it.”
“Yes! I’m halfway in,” he said, his voice as desperate as mine with only slightly better control. “God, baby, look at you taking every inch of Daddy’s dick like a good boy.”
The sensation was amazing. Every inch of his cock pushing deeper inside my body, stretching my hole to make room for him. Callum released my cheeks, and with his chest pressed to my back, his hands on either side of me to keep off some of his weight, he bottomed out, pelvis flush against my ass.
“Now?” He kissed my neck, gripping my hands, which were fisted in the sheet. “How do you feel now?”
“Like you’re in me,” I moaned. We just lay there, neither of us moving, just savoring the moment.
He chuckled softly and bit my earlobe. “News flash, I’m inside you.”
“No, not like that. Like you are in me. You’re in my skin. I can feel you all over.”
For a minute, he said nothing as he processed my words, and I hoped he understood what I meant. I didn’t have the words to express the feeling more explicitly than that.
With his weight on top of me, his hands gripping mine, his cock buried in my ass, I felt one with him. Like we’d become one version of each other.
“I feel it too,” he admitted, burying his face in the back of my neck and kissing the skin there. “I can taste myself on your skin. Fucked-up, right?”
“No, sexy,” I purred. “Daddy Callum?”
“Yes, sweet boy?”
“Will you move now?”
“With pleasure.”
Total pleasure indeed. He pulled out, but not all the way, then slowly thrust inside again. The rhythm he set was not one I was familiar with.
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