Chapter 45

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

DRAVEN

The last few days have been fucking miserable. Dillon has been cranky, refusing to eat or sleep for the most part. The entire house has been in a constant state o' sleep deprivation, trying to make the lad happy.

I am a wee bit jealous, iffn I'm honest. No one seems to give a shit how unhappy, cranky, and miserable I am. I'm heading back down to the study to get some work done after having laid the bairn down for his nap for the second time when the front door bursts open.

I'm positive I'm seeing things because the last time I checked with Everly, Tavish was still in his room in the basement o' the mansion, with the door locked. He takes off toward the study, nae bothering to shut the door behind him.

"Tavish?" I gasp, even though I'm certain he isnae really there, and it's just my eyes playing tricks on me.

He spins, and his eyes look up, up, up until they meet mine where I'm standing on a step midway down the staircase, staring at him incredulously. He drops his bag, dashing up the stairs to me. I've barely gotten my wits about me enough to catch him when he launches himself into my arms.

"Viking Daddy!" he yells.

"Don't mind the rest me, I'll just close the door and move the bairn away from the Laird's bedchamber. God kens ye two will wake the dead for who kens how long," Mack says as he shuts the door.

Tavish giggles in my arms; the sound is the happiest, most light filled sound I've ever heard.

"Ghille, what are ye doing here?" I ask, but honestly, I dinnae care about the whys or the hows. I'm just so fucking ecstatic to have him in my arms.

"I came home, Viking Daddy."

"That's nae becoming a thing," I tell him, turning toward the bedroom. Our bedroom. The one I've nae been able to set foot in since returning from America.

More giggles, then he rains a deluge o' kisses on my face. "Yes, it is. I told Everly it was your new name."

I shake my head at the boy's antics as I walk into our room. I kick the door shut behind me, then toss him onto the bed. I pull off my shirt over my head, then I rip the belt off, the thwap o' the leather leaving the belt loops followed by a crack that echoes in the room, has the boy's full attention.

"Daddy, I really think a funishment is in order."

I smirk at him as I push my pants down. "Ye do, do ye?"

"Ummm hmmm. I do."

"And what if I said a punishment is in order? Ye have kept me waiting while ye screwed yer head on straight."

He dissolves into a fit o' laughter and snorts, and I'm barely able to understand what he's saying. Finally, I get that he's laughing because I called him straight.

"I like cock too much to be straight."

I pull his shoes off, then strip him the rest o' the way down, kissing, licking and biting at all the gorgeous flesh I uncover.

"Daddy, we really need to talk about the funishment. I think my ass and your belt needs to be friends."

"Oh, really. And how would we go about making them friends?"

He taps his chin as if in thought. His eyes light up like a Christmas tree, then he says, "A spanking. It's the bestest way."

"Mo ghille donn, ye are ridiculous."

"Please, Daddy!"

I kiss the boy, teasing him until he's a squirmy mess under me, but when his legs move to wrap around my waist, I pull away from him. I flip him over onto his hands and knees, pulling him back to my chest. I grab my belt and drape it around his neck before knee walking us to the headboard.

I curl his hands over the wood and growl, "Dinnae move," before biting down on his neck.

He yelps, and from my position, thanks to my height, I can see how excited he is. He's leaking precum all over the bedding. My mouth waters at the sight, but I push that away and pull open the nightstand drawer. Most o' the equipment I have for bondage is most likely too big for the boy since it was all made with Simon in mind, but the rope in my nightstand is one size fits all.

I drop the lube and a knife onto the bed next to us and begin tying the knots and threading the rope through the hidden O-rings tucked inside hidden compartments on the bed.

Tavish's eyes follow my every move. They sparkle in delight and twinkle with mischief, and I secure his hands to the bedposts first, and then his knees to the headboard, so he's held in place with his ass out.

I pull the belt from his neck, looping it together. I rub it over his ass, and he whimpers.

"Color?" I ask.

"Green, Daddy. So, so, so, so, so green. Like emerald green. Or forest green."

I check the ropes once more since I'm a little rusty. They're good, but it never hurts to check. Leaning over him, I say, "What color to stop?"

"Red."

"To slow down?"

"Yellow."

"Good boy."

With the belt in one hand, I grab the lube and dribble some at the top o' his crack, letting it puddle there. He wiggles.

"Stop moving around."

Instant stillness. His submission is beautiful.

Dribbling some lube down the length o' my cock, I slick it up, then tease his hole. The lube I puddled on his ass crack trickles down onto my fingers as I play with his hole. Tavish is struggling to hold still. Hell, I'm struggling not to bury my hard on in his fucking arse.

"Daaaddy…" he whines as I peg his prostate.

I want him open and ready for me because after I deliver his lashes, neither o' us will last long. Scissoring my fingers, he pants, gasping. Looking down, I see the puddle growing bigger as fluids drip from his cock.

"Do ye need a cock ring, pojke?"

"Nah…nah..no, Daddy. I'm good."

I chuckle at his stutter. Leaning forward, I whisper, "We'll see about that."

More whimpers.

"How many days did ye keep me waiting?"

"Three, Daddy."

"I think five lashes for every day. Ye will count every lash boy, and since this is funishment, a good punishment for nae following the rules is losing a number. So if you want all fifteen lashes, I best nae have to remind ye to count."

"Yes, Sir."

I rub his ass, waiting and watching for him to lose the anticipation. I want to take him by surprise. After a moment or two, he asks, "Daaaaaaa…" or he tries to, but I land the first lash directly across his butt, robbing him o' his voice.

"One!" he yells.

Every lash is the same. The belt sings through the air, cracks against his skin, and he releases the count with an exhaled cry. The sounds blend beautifully.

He's beautiful. He follows instructions exquisitely. Belt stripes mark his flesh, crisscrossing across the globes o' his ass. He's not the only one leaking precum onto the bed. There's a steady stream leaking from my tip as well.

The rhythmic moves, and the forceful swings, have me panting to give the boy the experience he wants. That I want. Sweat breaks. My arms, chest, shoulders and back are getting a workout. One I've not had in years. There's a vast difference in swatting his ass with my hand a couple o' times and wielding a belt for a spanking like this.

"Fifteen!" He gasps, tears hitches his voice.

The count and the belt's thwack still linger in the air as I bury my cock in him. One thrust and my balls smack into his, where they hang between his thighs. I set a grueling pace, giving him nae time to adjust. I opened him up before beating his ass. That's all the consideration he's given.

I need him too badly. I thought I'd lost him. Now that he's here under me, taking my lashes and my cock, I'm blind to everything else. I want to own him. Mark him. Claim him.

So, I do.

Over and over.

Again and again.

The tingles o' climax grow, flourishing like a garden in a spring rain. It blooms, weaving its way through me until there isnae anywhere else for it to go but out.

Tilting my head back, I roar his name as my rhythm disappears, and my thrusts become short and sporadic. I'm close to collapsing on the lad. I reach forward, one hand going to the ropes, pulling it just so to loosen the knot and the other wraps around his cock, but there's nae need. The last o' his release is already running over his cock.

I hold him to me and ease us down onto the bed, dodging the wet spot as much as possible.

We lay together, quietly luxuriating in each other until my cock slides from him as it softens. We both sigh at the loss. I'm still in disbelief that he's here, in my arms, and in our bed. Breaking the silence, I tell him, "I cannae believe yer here, min karlek."

He chuckles and says, "You mean you can't believe I came to my senses so quickly?"

"Och, aye. That."

He turns into my embrace, propping his chin on my chest. "I was an idiot. I didn't think I could have both—my work with the Society and a life with you. Dillon needs you more than me. He need's a dad, and life away from the Society. I knew he wouldn't get that if you stayed."

"But why nae come with me? Ye worked here…"

"Because I was afraid that having Dillon would change what we have. That I wouldn't be good enough to help you raise him. Plus, I was scared my work with the Society would affect his life. Like my dad's affected mine. I don't want that for him. Even before my mother died, looking back, I can see that there are things about the Order that made their way into my life. Things I wouldn't have noticed as a child but do now in hindsight as an adult. So, I thought it best to send you home and for me to stay behind."

"So, what changed?"

"I came to my senses. I love you, Draven, with all my heart. It fills me with so much joy and then I realized that loving you from a far was just making us miserable and that wouldn't be good for Dillon, either. So, I hopped on a plane, and here I am. If you'll still have me; here, I'll stay."

I pull him to me, slanting my mouth over his. The kiss is full o' love, and relief, but mostly love.

"Dinnae even think about leaving me again, Tavish Buchanan. Iffn you do, I'll tie you to this bed and never let ye go."

"About that…"

"What? Me tying ye to the bed?"

"No, Buchanan. What do you say we change that to Helvig so we can well and truly leave the sins of the father in the past, forever?"

My heart stops and starts again, and I gather him to me with tears in my eyes. "There's nae anything I'd like more."

We come together in a slow sensual kiss, and I rolling him onto his back. Our cocks press together, and his legs slide around my hips as he smacks the bed. He holds up the lube with a grin.

I take it from him, sitting back on my ankles and popping the top. My face hurts from the width o' the grin stretching it, but a cry come from the monitor I put on the nightstand the first night Dillon slept under this roof stills my hand from pouring the lube on my fingers.

Tavish sighs with a wistful smile on his face, "Looks like we'll have to take a raincheck for round two. Someone is demanding his dad's attention."

"He's a lucky boy. He has two o' them."

He hums at me, and says, "One and a big brother?"

"Nae, two. Equals. We tackle this together as a couple."

Tavish chuckles and wiggles out from under me. "Well, if you insist. Now, let's go see what our son needs so I can claim that raincheck. We have three days to make up for."