Page 160 of Naughty November

I came with a growl as my hips stuttered and my thrusts became short and jerky, before I bottomed out and held myself deep inside of him. I curled my body over his, resting my forehead against the spot where his shoulder met his neck, as spurt after spurt continued to shoot deep inside him.

I was barely aware I was still jerking him off until I heard a choked cry and then my hand and his beautifully cut abs were painted with his cum. My dick gave its last spurt, as if in reaction to the boy’s orgasm, and I stayed where I was—one hand still gripping his hair and the other his dick—as we both panted until our breaths became even again.

His body practically melted into my mattress, finally spent and still completely asleep. But when I raised my head, he had a tiny, utterly captivating, satisfied smile on his face. And I knew right then and there, in my eyes, there was nothing more perfect than Jules in that moment.

I needed to get up and grab a towel to clean him up, but something took over me and I rubbed all his cum into his smooth stomach before licking my fingers to taste his essence.

My job was done and yet I knew without a doubt this wasn’t the end. I was too affected by him, even while he slept, and that deserved some exploration, even though it was the last thing in the world I should do.

I reached over and grabbed the lubed plug and then slowly sat up. I pulled my cock out before it had time to go soft, and his whimper of dismay had me grinning. Silly, desperate little kitten. When I replaced it immediately with the plug, he gave a satisfied sigh and melted into the bed again.

I finally got up and went to get a warm, wet washcloth, and cleaned him up. Once again, I kneeled between his splayed legs and just took my fill of him, my eyes taking in every inch of his flawless skin, knowing I was letting myself get carried away and inching entirely too close to an obsession with him. I sighed and moved to his side, yanking the covers up and over us both.

I needed to shut down this fascination with him and go to sleep. But no one had to know that I slid my arm under him so his headwould be pillowed on my bicep, or that I pulled him as close as he could get to me, his back flush to my front. I couldn’t keep myself from tightening my arm around him so he wouldn’t escape, or throwing my leg over his hip to keep him locked in place. I gave in to my desires, kissed his shoulder, and settled into a comfortable position.

“Good night and sleep tight, my gorgeous little kitten,” I murmured, as I began to fall asleep exactly where I wanted to be.

And I could have sworn I heard him whisper, “Goodnight, Daddy,” as he hummed and then we both fell silent.

Hours later, I woke up like I did every other day, bright and early at five in the morning—though I was happy I had blackout curtains and blackout shades over the single large window against the far wall of the room.

Jules had turned and curled against me while we slept, his silky hair tickling my chin and his soft, rhythmic breaths ghosting over my naked chest. I guess I unconsciously tightened my grip because he moved his arm around me in a barely there hug.

He murmured “Mmm, Daddy” did things to the morning wood I was sporting. Thinking he was awake, I pulled farther away and looked down at him, but his eyes remained closed and his face was still relaxed in sleep. I softly carded my fingers through his hair, eliciting a little shiver before he settled in again. Fucking adorable.

I gathered him closer, kissed the top of his head, and enjoyed the feeling of his small hand lightly caressing my skin, moving without thought. After a few more seconds of that, he went lax again, and I continued holding him close. Surprisingly, my body shut down with his, and as I was thinking how I never fell back to sleep after I woke in the morning, there I was doing just that.

EPILOGUE

JULIEN GALLO

When I woke, I was facing Daddy, his arms wrapped around me with a tight hold, as if even in sleep he didn’t want me to get away. That set my heart to racing, and my desire to wake him up for more of what he’d already given me grew by the second. I slowly pulled back enough to gaze at his sleeping form.

The man was an absolute wet dream come to life, with dark as night hair shaved nearly to the skin on both sides, the top was long and thick, and styled straight back. His olive skin made him look like he had a tan with golden undertones. And his face had a nice five o’clock shadow going on.

Hands down, he was the most beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes on and that was saying something. Most people would never use that word to describe him because he barely smiled. His dark brown eyes were always assessing—like he was trying to figure you out with just a look—and he emitted a broody, dangerous vibe. There was a stiffness to him, his posture ramrod straight, shoulders back, and head held high. He appeared to have an overabundance of confidence, but from all our interactions, he deserved to feel every bit of that.

I’d been scared to death the first time I’d seen him, gun in hand, leaning against the lockers, eyes narrowed as if just hitting me with that gaze would slice me in half. After the first zing of fear traveled through my body—racing heart, tense muscles, and damp palms—I got my first good look at him and went from cold and clammy to flushed skin and heat running from my head to my toes.

The fact he didn’t say a word allowed me to really take him in. I knew immediately the man was dangerous, deadly even, but instead of making me scared, it had sent a thrill through my body and had my synapses firing up and racing over every inch. Out of breath, I’d stared at him entirely too long before begging him not to have me arrested.

Seeing his body for the first time had turned my morning wood to a steel rod. You’d never know it from the suits he wore, but the man was tattooed from head to toe—no color, just all black. There were words in a language I didn’t know and designs I didn’t recognize but I enjoyed their beauty all the same. To say he was my type would be the understatement of the century.

After our first time, I should have felt terrified about what we’d done and what he’d do to me in the morning, but I hadn’t. I’d only wanted more of everything he’d given me the night before. It had been the best sexual experience of my life.

But I could say the same for every other experience I’d had since we’d met that night a year ago. Everything we did together was new and exciting and I absolutely loved my life with Romeo Ares. Which got me thinking of last night. I knew it was good because I felt that telltale soreness between my legs, and the plug holding his cum inside of me just revved me up even more. Reaching back to touch it, I moved it around enough to hit my prostate and couldn’t hold back a quiet whimper. “Don’t even think of using that to get off, kitten. Let alone taking it out. That’s Daddy’s job.”

I jolted and let out a squeak that had my cheeks pinking up with embarrassment. The smirk he gave me had precum leaking from my tip. Holy fuck, this man would be the death of me one day. I bit my lip and then gave him my most coquettish smile, batting my eyelashes at him. “I won’t. I promise, Daddy. I just wanted to touch it.”

“Mm-hmm. I know your tricks, brat.” His mock glare had me giggling. “Does your ass feel used, just the way you like it?”

“God, yes. Thank you for last night, Daddy. I know it was amazing.”

Romeo chuckled. “Oh, you do, do you? Even unconscious with the drugs Doc gave us?”

“Mmm, it always is with you. So yes, I know how good it was. Did you enjoy the somno?”

A deep rumble emanated from his chest. “Fuck, yes I did. And you will too when we watch it together.”