Page 45 of Dangle

“C’mon, ki—” the words died in my mouth.

Trey lay sleeping on the couch—naked—the gloriousness of what hockey did for his ass and thighs displayed like a billboard in Times Square.

Fuck me.

The man was gorgeous. He ticked nearly every box on the sex appeal list, especially for a Daddy Dom like me.

Begs prettily?

The way he simpered and pleaded last night—chef’s kiss.

Bratty?

The way he responded to me putting him against the wall last night, the flare in his eyes this morning—perfection.

Chaotic?

He’s a beautiful fucking mess.

Sexy as fuck?

Just look at him.

Strong?

He’s a fucking hockey player. Of course he’s strong.

Loves sucking cock? Cums hands free?

He came from sucking my dick without touching himself, so yeah. Double check. Deservedly.

There were only three things on the list I didn’t know for certain.

Did he like his ass smacked? Did he like rough, dirty sex? And did he like a man with a filthy mouth? Because yeah, I might not be uber talkative out of the bedroom, but in it? I couldn’t shut up, and rough, dirty, aggressive sex? That was my Roman Empire.

Well, okay, there was a fourth thing.

Could he take direction and submit?

But, remembering how he responded last night and then again this morning, I wasn’t too worried about this fourth thing. He might not know a lot about kink, but he responded naturally. He even bowed his head and averted his eyes. Not somethingI ever really asked of a sub. Well, not unless they were being punished and that I kept for the worst offenses—kneeling quietly at my feet, hands behind their back, head bowed, and eyes downcast.

My cock filled at the image my mind created of Trey in that position. Adjusting myself, I admonished my eager flesh.Down boy. You got a treat. Now, you’ll have to wait. He’s not ours.

Yet…reverberated through the head on my shoulders. I shoved it away and sat down on the couch next to him. Fingers carded through his hair, traced over the ear and cheek facing me, then ran down his nose and across his jaw.

No reaction.

Those same fingertips continued to his neck and onto his shoulders before swiping back and forth over the well-defined muscles of his upper back.

A hum.

Okay. Now we were getting somewhere.

I dipped lower, keeping the same tickly, light touch over the notches of his spine to his waist. His briefs had hidden a secret that removing them revealed: the boy had zero tan lines.

A louder, longer, deeper hum got muffled somewhat by the throw pillow he rubbed his face against.

“Now that you’ve sucked my soul from my body through my dick,andhad a nap, how about a shower and breakfast?”