December 25

DECEMBER 25

“Baby, it’s six in the mornin’…”

I couldn’t help it! I was needy, okay?

“You can go back to sleep, Daddy.” I got comfortable between his legs under the duvet and sucked his soft cock into my mouth. It was either this or I raided my M&M stash some more, and Daddy had a rule. No candy before breakfast!

Some rules sucked.

“If only,” he yawned. “Unfortunately for me, I fell for an irresistible little punk, so when he gets going, I can’t help myself.”

I giggled with a mouthful of Daddy’s cock.

Merry Christmas to me!

He pushed away the duvet and blinked sleepily, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “How did yesterday not exhaust you?”

It totally had! Despite the limo ride, my Fitbit had logged almost fifteen thousand steps because we’d been to so many places. But now I’d slept for seven hours. That was how rest worked. Daddy should know this.

He should also know you shouldn’t speak with your mouth full, so I didn’t respond. Instead, I sucked him a little harder and gave him lots of tongue action.

He let out a breath and combed his fingers through my hair.

I got him hard quickly, and he was no longer too tired to play. A few minutes later, he decided it was time to fuck his little boy. He drew me close and positioned me with my back against his chest, giving me the best view of the Christmas tree. It was perfect, really. The dim lighting, the early morning, and Daddy Christmas’s hard cock…

He did his thing, reaching for a lube packet in his wallet, and I just relaxed and wriggled against him. A yawn slipped out too, ’cause I was so blissed out and comfortable.

To think, this was the rest of my life. Some Christmases, we’d be with family, his or mine. Some, we’d fly somewhere just the two of us, and I…I could not be happier. I mean, I loved spending time with family, but this beat everything. We’d see everyone soon anyway. We were heading down to Florida to visit my parents the day after tomorrow, and then we had a big New Year’s party at Clarke’s residence—oh, and dinner with my grandmother before then too.

Daddy closed the distance between us, pressing his warm chest against my back, and slicked up his cock while he kissed my neck and shoulder.

“Merry Christmas, my sweet Parker.”

I peered back at him and smiled—at the same time as he pressed the head of his cock against my bottom. “Merry Christmas, Daddy.”

He kissed me slowly, seductively, hungrily, and inched inside me. I whimpered at the burning sting and instantly craved more.

When he was buried deep, he lifted my leg a bit and set an unhurried pace.

“My beautiful little baby boy,” he murmured against my lips. “How I love you.”

I shivered and clenched down around him, causing him to groan. He deepened the kiss and fucked me a little harder, and it wasn’t long before he found himself held back by our position. It was always like this, usually for morning sex. Starting off slow and cuddly, when we were pressed up against each other like this, but then we got revved up, and he needed more.

“On all fours,” he whispered, pulling out of me.

Fuck yes. I scrambled into position and fisted the sheets, and he got behind me and kneaded my butt cheeks.

“Exquisite little ass…” He smacked it once, twice, three times, and I let out a long moan. “You know this belongs to Daddy forever, right?”

I nodded quickly and peered over my shoulder. “Always, Daddy.”

He was looking down and rubbing my opening with the head of his cock. “That’s right. Same goes for the rest of you.” He gripped my hips and pushed inside in one fluid thrust, and I sucked in a sharp breath. Oh my God. “I own every goddamn inch of you.”

“Yes,” I croaked.

There was nothing unhurried about what came next. He began fucking me in long, quick thrusts that sent trails of fire through me and stole my ability to make sounds. Jesus H. Christmas, he punched the air right out of my lungs, and the pleasure built up fast.

I jerked my cock quickly until he took over.

“No, that’s Daddy’s job.” He yanked me back, controlling my movements with one hand and my cock with the other. “He loves it when you make a big mess on the sheets,” he whispered in my ear. I shuddered violently. “But it’s a bit filthy, isn’t it? How you always come in Daddy’s bed?”

Oh God, Daddy was in a dirty-talk mood. I stood no chance!

My body could roll with the punches, and I fucked myself on his perfect cock as if I’d been born to do it. Meanwhile, my mind was a sluggish mess swimming in every filthy whisper.

“So desperate and needy.”

“My wonderful little baby whore.”

“That’s it—milk Daddy’s cock, just like that.”

I gasped, black spots filling my vision, and I realized I hadn’t taken enough breaths.

“Daddy, I wanna come so bad,” I cried out.

“Beg.”

Fuck. I choked on a dry breath and cleared my throat. Focus, focus! He was teasing me, stroking me too gently, all while I was fucking myself on him like there was no tomorrow. I swallowed against the dryness in my throat.

“Please, Daddy,” I whimpered. “I wanna make a mess with you. Please? It’s your fault anyway.”

He took a breath and nipped at my neck. “How’s it my fault?”

“Because you always make me so needy!” I moaned.

Thank goodness, he grasped my cock tighter. I rolled my hips, taking him all the way in, then thrusting forward to fuck his fist. Fuck me, that was the sweet spot. I went faster and faster, and Daddy got caught up in it too. Daddy’s cock, Daddy’s fist, over and over, fluid motions, harder and faster, and I was suddenly a feverish puddle of desperation standing on the edge of a cliff.

“Jesus fuck,” he whispered huskily. “Only I make you needy, correct?”

“Freakin’ duh,” I whimpered. “Please, Daddy. I’m so close.”

He groaned through a chuckle and squeezed me to him. “Okay. Get us off, baby. As hard and as fast as you can.”

I nodded quickly and chased our orgasms, and he poured all his focus on me. He kissed me, he touched me greedily, he whispered how much he adored me, how…

“I’m fucking obsessed with you,” he whispered roughly.

That did it. I choked on another breath, caught totally off guard, and felt the pleasure crash down on me. Holy fuck, the sensations hit so forcefully that I lost all my composure—and Daddy had to take back control. He lifted me up a few inches, then pounded his cock in and out of me, creating those slapping sounds, and I automatically took over and stroked myself through my orgasm. Within seconds, he was groaning out his own release, fucking it deep into my ass.

You gotta breathe, dude!

I fucking couldn’t. Or almost. Wait—okay, now it worked. I managed to draw a ragged breath, and it kick-started my lung function again. Goddamn. I should’ve worn my Fitbit.

Daddy said he’s obsessed with you. Let’s focus.

I shivered and blinked sluggishly. Holy crap, yeah. Because…if he was obsessed with me, like I was with him, chances were I could convince him to propose to me one day.

“Christ, baby boy.” Daddy shivered too, and he hugged me tightly from behind. “I say we move this party over to the couch where we can nap.”

“And open presents,” I added, holding up a finger. “And eat breakfast.”

He chuckled and kissed my shoulder. “That too.”

* * *

After a quick shower, I jumped into my new reindeer jammies, and then it was Daddy’s turn. He’d ordered breakfast and made some preparations while I’d freshened up, and the living room area was super-ready for our Christmas morning. He’d put cartoons on the TV, though the sound was off, and Christmas music was playing on my Bluetooth speaker.

We gave each other a big smooch in passing. He ducked into the bathroom, and I grinned gleefully at the setup in the living room. The tree, the Christmassy blankets we’d picked up yesterday—because that was a must! Oh! And he’d brought Turtleton to the couch. I sprinted over there, only to change my mind and hurry over to the tree. I grabbed three of the gifts for Daddy, because that seemed like a good start.

I’d bought him over twenty! But, like, they weren’t all Mont Blanc pens and stuff. I knew what my Daddy liked. He wanted a few of the finer things—like the pen he’d dog-eared in an actual paper catalogue—and he wanted…me. He loved gifts where my personality shone through, so I’d been creative. We were talking body worship coupons, a new picture of us for his desk at the office in Culver City, a mug that said World’s Best Daddy Christmas, a cookie jar for his office at corporate…

I just loved giving presents!

* * *

“Your turn!” I crammed the last of my bagel into my mouth and hurried over to the tree. Oops, almost tripped over wrapping paper. The floor was littered with it!

I grabbed the last four gifts and returned to Daddy on the couch. I loved the smile he was wearing with those jammie bottoms. He had snowmen on his. I’d picked them out.

He took a sip of his coffee. “Boy, you’ve gone overboard with all these gifts.”

Had not!

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yuh-huh. Daddy’s gonna be all spoiled now.”

I giggled and handed him the next gift. It was time for a nice tie. His little sister had helped me order it, ’cause she knew fashion stuff—and what brands and styles Daddy preferred.

I fanned out the blanket over us as he opened the gift, and then he was smiling again. I should rank the smiles. The cookie jar, the picture of us, and the pen had earned me the best smiles in the whole world—and he’d laughed warmly at the body worship coupons.

“This is wonderful, sweetheart.” He wrapped the tie around his fists and tested the strength of it, and I lifted my brows. That was one way to do it, I guessed! “Thank you very much. If you think about it, ties are multitools you can use for so many things.”

Oh, giddy-up!

“Are you saying I should use it as a napkin for our turkey dinner later?” I asked innocently.

He smirked and placed the tie with his other gifts on the table. “You could try. Then you’ll find out what else we can do with it.”

Too tempting to resist!

“Now, I believe it’s your turn,” he said.

Huh? But he’d given me all mine already. A picture of a new gaming chair that was waiting for me at home, a freaking sketchpad—approximately six generations newer than my old one—some clothes, ’cause he was the best at picking out the nicer stuff for me, and cookware I’d really wanted. A couple of books too. A friend to Turtleton that I’d already named Mister Whaley…

Daddy grabbed a box from the floor, and it was the size of a baseball. “Let’s see what it says on the card.” He flipped open the tiny card on the box and read out loud. “Merry Christmas, Daddy, from your perfect boy.”

Wait, what? It couldn’t be one of my gifts; I didn’t recognize the wrapping paper, and I hadn’t made any cards.

“I must’ve counted them wrong—this one’s for me.” Daddy gave me a surprised look before he started opening it.

I scratched the side of my head, utterly confused. Like, what the fuck? “Um…”

Once the wrapping paper was gone, he was left with a box, and he lifted the lid. He smiled, like really wide, but I couldn’t see what was in the box. It was beginning to be frustrating!

“This is the best gift you could’ve given me. My God.”

“What is it?” I demanded. I crawled over to him and peered into the box, where I spotted a…what the fuck? It was just a white little card, and it read “Yes.”

What was happening?!

“This was exactly what I needed, baby.” In a fluid motion, Daddy pulled me close, kissed me hard, then inched back and somehow held up—holy fuck. Two rings on his index finger. I sucked in a breath as it all dawned on me, and I let out a strange laugh, and my eyes welled up. Oh my God!

A beat later, I was pushed back against the cushions as he covered my body with his. My stomach flipped, and my heart pounded furiously.

“Marry me, Parker.”

I grinned like an idiot and cupped his face in my hands. “You already have my answer.”

He smiled faintly and kissed my nose. “Damn right, I do. But I’d love to hear it.”

I laughed, ’cause I had to release the reindeers in my tummy. “Yes.”

Holy crap, I couldn’t believe he’d proposed like that! Oh, I was gonna tell this story for fucking years.

He smiled into a kiss. “Don’t worry, we won’t get married on a beach.”

If I beamed any harder, I’d split my damn face in half. “I love you.”

“I love you more—and I’ve appreciated every hint.”

I didn’t know what he was talking about. “What hints? I’m innocent.”

He chuckled and rested his forehead against mine. “Darling Parker. I think that train left the station when you got drunk on Jell-O shots, planted your sweet ass on my lap, said you’d been a good boy all year, and called me Daddy Christmas.”

A genius move on my part, clearly!