16. Xander

CHAPTER 16

XANDER

Clan Daddy: I've sent the private jet back to Big City for Felix.

The Mouthy One: Thank you, Daddy.

Clan Daddy: I can just as easily call it off, Xander.

"Xan?"

My head snapped up, my gaze shifting from The Rabble Chat to where my deliciously beefy superhero was sprawled belly down on the bed in nothing but Captain Masculine boxer-briefs.

America's ass, tho…

We were taking it easy today, since we'd mingled in the grand lodge yesterday from early bird buffet until the early morning hours. This level of socializing pained my soul, but Butch insisted we show all our wedding guests how much we appreciated their presence .

Gross.

Of course I appreciated those who wanted to share our special day, but so many supes were here for purely political reasons—whether from existing contracts or business arrangements they hoped to make—that it was hard not to feel like a pawn perched on top of a tiered wedding cake.

The only guests whose presence I personally cared about would be standing at the proverbial altar with us, along with the handful seated in the front rows. Everyone else could disappear—Thanos snap style—and I probably wouldn't notice.

If not for the obscenely wasteful pile of presents we've received.

Who even created our registry?

I was aware that weddings were rarely for those getting hitched. They were for family, and it was kind of nice to have an excuse to get the whole gang together.

Temporarily.

Rabble reunion aside, the only person who actually needed to be here—besides Luca, to make it official—was the five-course man-meal pleadingly gazing at me with his big baby blues.

"What is it, sweetheart?" I asked, even if I already knew the answer. My suspicions were confirmed by the way he was subtly grinding against the mattress beneath him. "What do you need?"

"Xan…" Butch huffed, already blushing. "You know what I need…"

Oh, I am not letting you off that easy.

Or… maybe I will.

Because what he needed was also what I needed, and not just because we were inextricably connected through our inventus bond.

No, it was because I'd declared—in my post-blowie wisdom the morning we left—that neither of us would get off again until after we were married.

For having such a high IQ, I am a fucking idiot.

It had only been a few days since my decree, but I was already dying. I felt like my balls were going to burst from the pressure building up within them. That is, if my dick didn't shrivel up and fall off first.

This is torture.

Wait a minute…

This is torture I created!

"How about an amendment to our rules of engagement?" I asked—using as casual a tone as possible to hide my eagerness.

"Really?" He clambered up to his knees, looking as excited as he had when I told him I'd be wearing a corset vest for the wedding. "Are you going to take care of me, Daddy?"

You little devil.

It was all I could do not to tackle him to the bed, rip down those tight little briefs, and stuff myself into his even tighter hole.

Breathe, Xander.

Make him work for it.

"How ‘bout a compromise?" I purred, already salivating for his reaction. "If you're so pent up, why not give Daddy a show? "

"A s-show?" Butch stuttered, cheeks flushing and dick straining in his officially licensed underwear. "You mean you want to watch me…?"

"Yes," I curtly interrupted. "I want to watch you stroke that big cock until you come."

It wouldn't be the first time I'd asked my baby to touch himself, but it was usually when I was fucking him into the mattress… or the floorboards… or up against the wall… or over my examination table…

But tonight, I want a show.

"Yes, Daddy," Butch gasped, already wrestling himself free, only to abruptly freeze.

I watched as a change I knew well swept over his perfect features. His bright blue eyes darkened, his naturally cheerful expression hardening into that of a calculating predator.

Blade Runner Butch has entered the chat.

"Only if you do the same for me." Even his tone had adjusted to the cold, businesslike one he used while on the job. "I want to watch you stroke that big c-cock until you come."

So close, sweetheart.

I usually liked maintaining control in the bedroom—except when my good boy "earned" the pleasure of splitting me in half—but Butch as Captain Masculine was hard to resist.

Must be the nostalgia over our lovers-to-enemies-to-lovers relationship arc.

Plus, no way in hell was I going to decline a chance to get off, especially as I was probably going to come in my pants anyway from watching him jerk it alone.

Two's come-pany, after all !

"Oh, is Big City's greatest superhero calling the shots now?" I teased, even as I obediently freed my aching cock. "Would you like to direct the scene, Captain?"

My big, scary baby flushed a brighter red as he remembered his role. "No! I mean, no thank you, Daddy. Please tell me what you'd like to see."

So perfect.

"Good boy," I praised, chuckling when he gripped the head of his dick with a groan. "You know I love how needy you get. So desperate to see Daddy's cock."

"Yes, please," he helplessly whined as I started to lazily pump. "I w-want us to come together so I can feel it in our bond."

Jesus!

It was my turn to strangle my crown. This was the closest Butch got to dirty talk but, as always, I was here for it.

Maybe I can squeeze a little more out of him this time…

"Good job using your words, baby," I cooed. "Do you think you could tell me what you've been fantasizing about these past few days while you've felt so needy?"

C'mon, baby.

Butch swallowed hard as he hesitantly raised his gaze to meet mine. "Um… okay. I can try…"

Let's play.

I restarted my rhythm, tilting my chin toward his hand. "Go on, sweetheart, and keep your grip loose as you stroke. I don't want you coming until I say you can."

The clear command seemed to settle him. He exhaled, all those deadly muscles relaxing as he settled back on his heels and obeyed.

"I've been thinking about how it's going to feel once we're married," he began, helplessly shuddering from the first pass over his cock. "How much I'm going to enjoy my husband claiming me."

This was not at all the direction I'd expected him to go, yet it was exactly what I needed to hear. He knew damn well I'd been dying to claim him on paper since we'd first met—had even combined his family's weight with mine to get Sylvano Ricci and the United Super Nations to reverse the ban on hero-villain marriages.

It was a bogus law anyway.

My already overly possessive instincts had gone into hyperdrive every time I even thought about officially hyphenating our infamous names, so the added treat of consummating the marriage? Of sealing the deal for real?

Come to Daddy.

"How do you want me to claim you once you're Mr. Suarez-Holt?" I was unable to keep the growl out of my voice as the memories of Butch's actual first time rose to the surface. "Should I put you on your back like I did when I claimed that tight little hole as mine? Make you look into my eyes while you paint those pretty abs?"

My voice caught as Butch's gasp turned into a needy little whine—telling me exactly how much he was enjoying this.

I see you, baby.

"Sugar!" he breathed, momentarily falling into subspace before refocusing. "Yes, I want that. I love the way you look at me when you f-fuck me. "

Jesus Christ!

Not the F-word!

"And how do I look at you while I fuck you?" I gritted out, even though I absolutely knew the answer.

Like I love you beyond anything I thought possible.

Of course, there was no hiding my gross, mushy feelings from my inventus, but my baby knew he needed to keep playtime filthy.

Just like Daddy likes it.

To my surprise, Butch's baby blues turned to Blue Steel as Blade Runner mode resurfaced. "Like you want to brand me from the inside out with your cock," he growled. "Like you want to pump me so full of cum, there'll be a permanent piece of you inside me at all times. Like I'm yours."

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!

I was no longer the one driving this ship. My dick was on autopilot, and the plane was going down. With a snarl that sounded more animal than whatever the fuck I was, I leaped off my chair and onto the bed, shoving Butch onto his back just in time to come all over his ridiculously enormous chest.

Mine, mine, MINE!

"Daddy?!" he choked out.

His eyes were wild with panic, his body tense as he struggled through experiencing my pleasure secondhand while awaiting his permission like a good boy.

"Come," was all I managed to command before he was arching backward, shooting thick ropes of cum all over his chest and abs, mixing his release with mine.

Perfect .

Because Daddy wants a taste.

Butch was still gasping and shaking as I leaned down and languidly licked him clean, saving just enough on my tongue to share as I captured his mouth in the filthiest of filthy kisses.

All fucking mine.

"I wish I was already your husband," he murmured as I shifted my position so I could suck on his sweaty neck. "I wish?—"

"Tell me…" I sleepily insisted, beyond ready to just take a nap on his chesticles and call it a day.

So what if it's barely 9 am…

Island time is siesta time.

"I wish it was just you and me," he whispered. "That's all I want."

"Soon, baby," I promised, cuddling like a fool because I knew he would never tell. "As soon as this three-ring circus is finished, we're kicking everyone off the island and enjoying some goddamn peace and quiet before the baby arrives."

Before Daddy becomes a daddy.

"Whynotnow?" This time, his voice was barely audible as he rushed the words out.

"What was that?" I asked, lifting my head and squinting down at him.

"Nothing." He blinded me with that sweet himbo smile that made my insides turn to goo. "I'm just being needy and impatient."

I hummed as I laid my head down on his magical man-boobs. "Yeah, but I like you needy—remember, sweetheart? "

"Yes, Daddy," he sighed, not sounding as happy as I'd hoped after our mutual masturbation session, but my eyelids were already growing heavy, so I didn't worry too much about it. "Whatever you say."

Such a good boy.

Soon to be legally mine.

All fucking mine.