Page 28 of Balance

Troye rolled his eyes so hard I practically heard them hit the back of his skull. “I know about safe words. I might not have had a daddy or done anything kinky before, but you can’t shake a stick on the internet without hitting a dick joke.”

“The internet isn’t always the best source of education.”

“I’m not saying that I’m an expert because I saw jokes about pineapple being the safe word. I just know what they are.”

Gripping Troye’s chin with my fingers, I turned him to face me and planted a rough kiss on his lips. “What’s your safe word?”

“How about I just go with red? It seems easy to remember.”

“That will do.”

“And you can stop anytime, okay? And I won’t be mad or sad or disappointed. I promise.”

The promise at the end made Troye exhale the last of his nerves. “Okay.”

“Okay. Safe word is red. Now, I want you to get on your feet and take your underwear off for me.”

He stood, but it took him a second to gather himself enough to where his hands would obey the command to undress. His fingers flitted nervously at his sides and then suddenly he whisked his underwear off to reveal his rock-solid cock. It pointed straight out and bobbed around in the air as it muscled its way to standing upright.

I took mercy on him after that and reached for him. Taking his hand, I pulled him close, and then I grabbed him, easing him down on my lap. I sat far enough back on the bed so he could stretch out across my lap and have the bed as a support, get comfortable, and sink into it.

After making sure his cock was protected, nestled between my legs, confined without being crushed, I smoothed my hand down his back. I followed the curve of his spine to where it became the swell of his ass.

“I think you were very brave for asking Daddy to spank you. I want you to remember that you’re not in trouble. You’ve not been bad. You’re a very good boy, and I’m going to reward you now. Are you ready?”

Troye gave me a jerky nod. His nerves were going to shake him apart if I didn’t quell them soon.

“Yes, Daddy.”

God, I could get used to hearing that come out of his mouth. I loved how he made it sound. He wasn’t sassy or sour about me wanting to be called Daddy. He didn’t balk at the use of the honorific or the way I wanted to care for him. Some men took any sort of offer of help and guidance as a slight against their masculinity. Like it made them less for me wanting to do things for them like starting their car. Or spanking their ass.

They needed to see what I saw. Troye, stretched out across my lap, the picture of strength. Broad shoulders and a narrow waist, a sharp jawline dusted with day-old stubble. He was power and grace. Command and supplication. And he was mine.

My hand smoothed down his back again, and I mapped the curve of his ass, the roundness of each cheek, the place where ass became leg. And then I squeezed the fleshiest part. Troye’s moans were muffled because he was hiding his face, but that was fine. For now.

I pulled my hand back and watched him stiffen in anticipation, and I waited. Finally, he took a breath, then let it out and relaxed. And that’s when I delivered the first blow. Sharp and strong, I struck the cheek of his ass and watched the way his skin rippled in response.

Troye let out a keening noise that was less moan and more whine and part shock as if he were somehow surprised that I’d done it. Or maybe it was that he liked it. Or maybe it was for a million different reasons I’d never be able to discern. Rubbing the spot I just struck, I took a breath to steady myself. Troye was a ripple in my calm. He made me want to do things to him, to push the envelope, to unmake him brick by brick and put him back together again in a version that was still all him, but also more mine.

When I hit him again, he relaxed faster. He’d caught onto the fact that I liked to wait for him to let go, to breathe out, to find his calm while I warmed him up. I wanted him to sink into himself, to release whatever it was he held on to so tightly. I wanted him to want more of this. More of me. Of us.

Troye was an intoxicating man to have over my knee. I could tell he tried his best to keep still, but the longer I went, the less he was able to. By the time his ass had started to turn a pretty shade of red, he was squirming and panting, and maybe crying. His breath came in shudders, and I paused. The skin of my hand had started to sting so I knew his ass had to be on fire.

“Can you take a bit more for me?”

Troye nodded, and he turned his head, giving me a glimpse of his face. His eyes were rimmed with red and glistened with tears. His cheeks looked wet with it, and I wanted to lick the tears off him, taste the salt of his skin. Kiss him better.

“Please.” His voice cracked like the weight of the word was too much to bear. “Please,” he said again, a new kind of desperation in the tone of his voice. “Please, Daddy.”

“That’s a good boy, just take a breath now. Daddy’s got you.” Troye sighed, throwing all his trust in me in that moment, and he turned to liquid in my lap.

I had him.

Now I had to keep him.

CHAPTER 15

TROYE