Page 63 of Beautiful Disaster

He’s held out well for me, so after a few minutes, I let go. My mind clears, solely focused on the growing pressure. I pummel his ass and throw back my head, crying out as I explode into him.

When I’m fully spent, I pull out. Jinx winces, but he remains unmoving and keeps silent.

He squeezes his hole again, and some cum spills out. I roll my finger over the glob and push it back in. “I love watching my cum spill out.”

Jinx lets out a pathetic mewl, unable to take it anymore.

“Does my pet need to come?”

“Yes…” he cries. “Please make me come, Daddy.”

“Begging is always a bonus.”

I unclip his wrists from the spreader, then I remove the toy from his ankles. He rolls onto his back, his cock hard and red as hell. It’s leaking everywhere. I swipe the head with my thumb and suck on his bitterness, pulling a gasp from him. “Please, sir,” he whines again. “I’ll do anything to come.”

“Anything? I’ll take that under advisement.”

He scowls and snarls, making me chuckle. My feral badger.

I hold his cock and wrap my mouth around it. His hands instantly work through my hair, and his head is thrown back, keeping his legs up and bent at my sides.

It takes less than a minute before he’s shooting into my mouth. I love a needy cock. I love making my partners so aroused over a long period that they can’t contain themselves. It’s fucking hot.

When he’s done, Jinx lies flat on the bed, arms and legs spread out, his chest heaving. “Thank god… I’ve never been so desperate to come in my life.”

I take one of his ankles and rub it, then the other.

“I’m fine,” he says. “It didn’t hurt.”

“Or you can just let me spoil you.”

Jinx cracks an eye open and smirks. “I wouldn’t say no to a little spoiling.”

And I do. It’s one of my favorite parts of being a Dom. Maybe Jinx wasn’t the most well-behaved today, but he should be rewarded for using the spreader. His continued trust and vulnerability need to be encouraged.

After I bathe him, he curls his body against me in bed, his fingers playing gently with my chest hair. I’ve quickly learned that Jinx is the most open and honest when he’s sleepy and snuggled into me, feeling the safest. I expect him to talk some more about his life, and he doesn’t disappoint.

“I’m protective of my life,” he whispers.

“What do you mean?” I ask, though I have a pretty good idea what he’s driving at.

“When I got snappy today… My life has never been my own. Now that it is, I’m… really protective of it.”

“You mean your autonomy?”

“Yeah. I don’t like it when people tell me what to do. I mean, you order me about all day, even when I’m not with you. I just mean…”

“I understand. Even though I order you around, you’re still here willingly.”

“Exactly. I just… I just want to live my life and have a say in everything that I do. So when I’m told that I shouldn’t do something because of x, y, and z, I get… defensive.”

I’m not sure how Jinx does it, how it opens up my heart to him. Every time he shows a vulnerable side, it swells my ego. To be trusted by someone like Jinx is an honor. It’s also terribly fragile. He protects his autonomy, and I must protect him at all costs. He deserves to feel safe in all ways.

“I understand that more than you know. I never went through what you did, clearly, but my parents owned my life. It wasn’t until college that I started finding myself.”

“It’s your turn,” he says.

“My turn?”