24. Nicholas

CHAPTER 24

Nicholas

Saying the word ‘Daddy’ had been one thing. Living it—stepping into this new, real part of myself over the last few days—was something else entirely.

My heart hammered as Daddy leaned back on his heels, his eyes fixed on me with that quiet intensity that made my stomach feel like it was filled with live wires. He hadn’t even touched me intimately yet, and I was already coming undone. But one thing I knew for sure, Daddy was going to fuck his boy tonight, even if said boy had to beg for it.

“Stop staring like you’re trying to set me on fire with your brain,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “You look like a creepy statue.”

The corner of his mouth tugged up in a slow, infuriating smile. “Statues don’t stare.”

“Whatever,” I muttered, heat crawling up my neck.

He didn’t rush me. Daddy never rushed me. Instead, he reached out, cupping my jaw with a hand that was all callouses and warmth, grounding me in ways I didn’t know I needed.

“You good?” he asked softly, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone.

I wanted to roll my eyes and shove him off just to prove I could, but my body betrayed me, leaning into his touch like a flower toward the sun.

“I’m fine,” I grumbled. “Can you stop asking every five seconds? You’re worse than a?—”

The thumb brushing my cheek shifted, pressing lightly against my lips. Not harsh, not silencing—just a reminder.

“Watch it,” he said, low and steady. His voice was calm, but his eyes burned with something I couldn’t quite name.

And damn it, that little press of his thumb sent a jolt straight through me.

I let out a breath and leaned closer, until there was barely an inch between us. “What if I don’t?” I challenged, my lips quirking into the hint of a smirk, daring him to take control, to meet me where I was.

His other hand landed on my hip, strong and sure, pulling me flush against him. The sudden contact stole the air from my lungs.

“Then I’ll remind you,” he said, his voice dropping into a rough, almost teasing timbre, “why you love it when I take charge.”

Heat flared in my chest and lower, a mixture of anticipation and defiance.

It wasn’t just about him asserting control—it was about trust. About how he read me so easily, how he knew exactly when to push and when to hold back. And though I’d never admit it, that balance left me breathless.

But no way was I going to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much he affected me. Not yet.

“Big talk for someone who hasn’t done anything about it,” I shot back, tilting my chin in defiance.

That got me a full-on laugh, low and rich and utterly unfair. “Oh, you’re that kind of brat tonight?”

Before I could fire back, he grabbed my hips and lifted me. Before I could catch my breath, Markus was striding along the hallway and into his bedroom. I yelped as I fell onto the mattress, glaring up at him, even as heat pooled low in my stomach.

“What the hell, Daddy?”

“What? You didn’t see that coming?” He knelt on the mattress, bracing himself over me. “Thought you were smarter than that.”

I opened my mouth to snap something back, but the words got stuck when he dipped his head and pressed a kiss to my throat—soft at first, then firmer, his teeth scraping just enough to make me gasp.

“Still want to sass me?” he murmured against my skin.

“Yes.” My voice was defiant, but my body betrayed me, arching up into him.

His chuckle was a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. “Good.” He nipped at my collarbone before lifting his head to look at me. “I like it when you make me work for it.”

I wanted to respond with something sharp, but his hands were already slipping under my hoodie—the hoodie he’d loaned me that first night. The reminder of where we started, of how far we’d come, made my chest tighten.

“Want me to fuck you?” he asked, his hands resting warm and steady against my sides.

I met his gaze, swallowing hard. “Yeah.”

“Words, Nicky.”

“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered, the words a quiet promise.

His smile softened, and for a moment, the world shrank down to just us—his hands on my skin, his weight grounding me, his eyes locking me in place.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against mine in a kiss that started slow before deepening into something that stole my breath. Every swipe of his tongue, every lick, every nibble felt deliberate, like he was trying to prove something without words.

And me? I was finally letting myself believe it. Believe that I could be his, without losing who I was.

Daddy prepared my ass beautifully. I was all slicked up and ready for him. On my knees, I felt the thick head of Daddy’s hard cock press against my eager hole. I gasped at the tantalizing sensation. He began to enter me slowly, sliding his shaft inside me inch by inch, stretching me deliciously. His hips started to move in a sensual rhythm, filling me completely while his strong hand maintained pressure on my back.

"Such a good boy," he growled, his voice husky with desire, the heat in his words igniting every nerve in my body. "Taking me so well."

My fingers curled into the sheets, grounding me as his praise settled over me like a warm blanket. A shiver raced down my spine, and I couldn’t hold back the smile that tugged at my lips. “Because I was specially made for you, Daddy.”

Markus stilled for half a second, his sharp intake of breath like a lightning strike in the quiet room. Then his hands slid down my sides, firm and steady, as if mapping every inch of me, claiming me in the way only he could.

“You have no idea what that does to me,” he rasped, his voice thick with emotion and raw need. His grip tightened slightly, anchoring me. “Hearing you say that? Knowing you mean it?”

I turned my head just enough to catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye. His face was intense, his eyes dark and filled with something that looked a lot like reverence.

“I do mean it,” I said, my voice softer this time, a little breathless. “Every word.”

Markus leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the base of my neck, his lips lingering there as if he was sealing some unspoken promise. “You were made for me,” he murmured, his breath hot against my skin. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving I was made for you too.”

His words hit me square in the chest, and for a moment, I couldn’t respond. All I could do was feel—his hands, his warmth, his love wrapping around me like a second skin.

“Daddy,” I whispered, barely recognizing my own voice, thick with emotion.

“Right here, baby boy,” he said, his tone softer now but no less commanding, no less sure. His hands moved again, guiding, steadying, as if reminding me I was his, and he was mine.

Daddy didn't stop there; he thrusted into me fully, burying his entire length deep in my hole, leaving me breathless.

“Fuck, this ass is hot and wet and tight.” Dirty words tumbled from Daddy’s lips and straight into my ear, each grunted syllable punctuated by a powerful thrust that robbed me of coherent thought. His hands gripped my hips firmly, digging into my flesh as if he needed to keep me close while he drove himself into me relentlessly.

As if he couldn’t get close enough to me from behind, he withdrew, flipped me over on my back and plunged himself into my ass again. I wrapped my legs around his waist and held on for dear life as my Daddy rocked me and my world. The sweat glistened on his muscular chest and arms, the prominent veins flexing with each driving motion. My hands roamed his sculpted chest and arms, reveling in the strength of his muscles as I gripped him tightly.

His big beautiful body ground against mine with every breathless stroke, our slick skin slapping together, his dick hitting my prostate oh-so-fucking good. The desperate moans he uttered in my ear only fanned the flames of desire burning within me. His relentless thrusts became increasingly erratic as he zeroed in on my most sensitive spot, eliciting cries of ecstasy from me with each deep plunge.

In between ragged breaths, he leaned in close and whispered into my ear, "You're mine, Nicky. Every inch of you belongs to me." He growled possessively, the heat in his voice sending a shiver down my spine.

The words hit me like a brand, scorching and undeniable, and I moaned, arching back into him without a second thought. My body answered him before my mind even caught up, like it had been waiting its whole life to hear those words and feel this claim.

I wanted to argue, to throw back some smartass comment about being my own person, but I couldn’t. Not when every nerve in my body screamed for more, not when his grip on my hips steadied me in a way I hadn’t realized I needed.

"You hear me?" he rasped, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, his voice low and commanding. "Say it, boy. Tell me who you belong to."

I squeezed my eyes shut, a mix of defiance and surrender warring inside me. But when I finally spoke, my voice cracked with raw honesty.

"You, Daddy. I'm yours."

Our bodies moved in sync, I felt waves of pleasure coursing through me with each stroke of delicious friction between us. I felt the buildup at the base of my spine. My balls drew up. Markus wrapped his hand around my cock, jerking it in tandem with his deep, deliberate thrusts into my depths.

"Ready to come, boy?" Daddy asked, his voice laced with lust.

"God…yes, I'm ready to come," I panted in response.

At his masterful strokes combined with the overwhelming fullness inside me, a tidal wave of ecstasy built up within me.

Arrghhh! My release sent streams of cum across Daddy's fingers and onto my trembling thighs. Feeling me surrender to my climax triggered him too—I soon felt the warmth of his release flooding my hole as he groaned loudly in satisfaction. His dick continued to throb within me until we were both spent entirely, our bodies slick with sweat.

The rest of the night was a blur of heat and laughter, of teasing remarks and tender reassurances. He let me push, let me test his limits, only to pull me back into the safety of his arms every time.

For the first time in forever, I wasn’t running.

I was home.