Page 8 of His Dad Will Do
I come with a roar down his throat, pulling his head against me and grinding his nose into my pubic bone.
Five
Silas
My brain panics when Logan floods my throat with a rush of hot, thick come. I can’t swallow fast enough and it drips down my chin, along with the tears streaming from my eyes. But I know how to do this, even if Logan’s cock is thicker than Lance’s, bigger than any I’ve sucked before. I stay still, letting Logan support my head, keeping my jaw and throat open.
It’s really only a second or two that I can’t breathe because my nose is mashed against his groin. He’s not shaved down there, like me, but the hairs are trimmed short and barely tickle the inside of my nose.
Just when my brain is screaming at me to struggle to get away, to breathe again, Logan loosens his grip on the back of my neck and slides his hand around to cup my chin. He draws his softening cock from my throat way more gently than he’d thrust into it and cradles my face in his big hands while I suck in several huge breaths of glorious oxygen.
He tilts my face up to his. Shit, I must look an absolute mess. Tears and snot and come are smeared all over my cheeks and chin. My lips are probably swollen and red, my eyes no doubt red-rimmed, and I bet my eyeliner has melted into raccoon rings. Logan looks at me like he’s never seen anything like me.
He sits back on his heels, then lets go of me long enough to tuck his dick back in his pants and pull his T-shirt off over his head. He swings his legs around so he’s sitting properly on the sofa and beckons me closer with a finger. “Come here, baby boy. Let Daddy clean you up.”
I crawl closer, still on my hands and knees, and he wipes my face with his T-shirt. The fabric is soft on my abused lips and gummy eyelashes and he scrubs gently at the tracks on my cheeks. Then he gathers me into his lap. I fold my knees and curl my spine into him and he wraps his arms around me. I’m too tall for this, really, but it’s so…nice…being cuddled like this.
Lance usually just rolls over and falls asleep when we’re done.
“Look,” he murmurs into my ear and his finger points at our reflections in the fireplace glass. “We look good together, don’t you think?”
I look. At me, Silas Mitchell, bare-assed naked, bent and tucked into the body of my ex-boyfriend’s father. My head is resting on his shoulder and his arms are locked around me. The bronze tan of his forearms contrasts with the paleness of my side and hip. His head is bent to mine and the salt and pepper of his close beard is nearly hidden behind my blond hair. He kisses the top of my head three or four times, then leans it back against the sofa.
I can’t pull my eyes away from the image. He looks…peaceful. More so than when I first arrived, when he had a lingering furrow between his eyebrows and his eyes looked tired, like he’d been working on his laptop for too many hours in a row. He also doesn’t look guilty or ashamed of what we just did. He’s just holding me in his arms.
And I…I look relaxed. There’s no tension in my muscles. I don’t feel like my shoulders are hunched around my ears like I’ve been feeling for the last week. My face is still blotchy and my lips still puffy, but I look well-fucked and pleased about it.
“Yeah,” I finally say, even though Logan hasn’t demanded an answer. “We do.”
Logan lifts his head and tucks a knuckle under my chin, tipping my face up to his. He kisses me on the lips and my stomach drops away. Just a sweet, gentle closed-mouth kiss at first. Then another, and another, and then I can’t take it anymore and I part my lips, hoping for more.
He parts his too, and the tip of his tongue traces delicately just inside my lips. It flicks into my mouth, glancing against my tongue, then retreats, and I follow. He’s moved his hand from my chin to my jaw, holding me gently and rubbing his thumb on my cheekbone while he kisses me softly and sweetly. Like I’m too delicate for rough treatment, even though he literally just fucked my throat so hard I feel like I swallowed gravel.
I don’t know how to feel about this. I came here for a quick revenge fuck. Well, I’d kind of hoped it wouldn’t be too quick. But I hadn’t expected this level of cuddling and care, and it’s doing something weird to my chest and stomach.
To avoid thinking about it—always best to avoid thinking too much about the dudes you fuck, or at least that seems to be Lance’s mantra—I take control of the kiss and deepen it. I swing my legs around so I’m straddling Logan and thrust my tongue into his mouth. He responds in kind and we’re sucking at each other’s tongues. I can taste my come on his tongue and he can surely taste his on mine.
It’s wet and sloppy and super hot. His scruff rubs against my abused mouth and the slight burn would make my dick wake up and take notice if it hadn’t just been sucked dry.
But all the while, his hands are gently stroking me. Not gripping my neck or pulling my hair like he did while I was sucking him off. No, he’s combing his fingers through my hair and stroking my forehead and temples and tracing around the shell of my ears and I feel like I’m about to cry or something, which is really dumb, so I pull back to catch my breath.
The last thing I want Logan to think is that I’m a needy, emotional kid, so I bend my head so he can’t see how close to tears I am. I’ve got one hand braced against his chest and I focus on that to give myself time to recover.
His chest is broad and his pecs are firm under a mat of salt and pepper hair. I run my hand through the fluff of it and my fingers glance across the hard bud of a nipple. I rub at it and pinch it gently between my fingers. It doesn’t seem like his nipples are nearly as sensitive as mine, but it hardens a little more and Logan says softly, “That’s nice, Silas.”
I give his other nipple the same treatment. Logan sweeps his hands up and down my back. His dick is slowly swelling beneath me and mine is plumping up again too. It’s not the urgent need to touch and suck and fuck we were gripped in earlier. It’s more like a slow build of anticipation and uncurling desire.
It has the effect I’d hoped of distracting me from my feelings, but before it gets to a point where either of us does anything about it, Logan stills my hands on his chest. “Let’s clean up and go to bed, baby boy.”
I take in a deep breath and nod. Right, yeah. I’ve agreed to stay the weekend.
It’s gonna be weird to stay in this house that I’m so familiar with but without Lance. I know where Logan’s bedroom is—on the second floor, at the back of the house—but I’ve never been inside it. What reason would I have had, to be in the bedroom of my boyfriend’s dad?
I could back out, if I wanted to. Say I’ve gotten the revenge I wanted and thanks for the two orgasms and the snuggle, but I’d better get back to the city. Except that I still haven’t sorted out where I’m going to live, now that Lance and I are broken up. I’ve been crashing on an air mattress in Chloe’s apartment, but that’s temporary, not least because she’s got three roommates. They’ve been cool about it, but I really gotta figure out what the hell I’m going to do.
Speaking of Chloe, there’s a muted buzz somewhere on the floor from my phone. Shit, I told her I was going out tonight to find someone to fuck and she’s checking in with me to make sure I’m okay. I do that for her when she goes out.
I didn’t tell her that it was Logan I was planning to fuck.
