Page 29 of My Fake Mafia Daddy
Closing my eyes, I parted my lips and wrapped my mouth around Constantine's nipple. I swirled my tongue around the hard bud, feeling it soften under my touch, flattening against my tongue. Tingles shot across me, and I let out a groan as my cock hardened in my pajamas.
Constantine threaded his fingers through my hair. "Tell Daddy how you like that."
"I like it so much, Daddy. This is amazing."
Constantine's hand traveled across my waist and rested between my legs. "I can feel your arousal, sweet boy. Tell me if this is why you cleaned Mr. Green in the tub."
The heat whipping through me was too intense to bear. I sucked Constantine's nipple even harder, my dick pulsating under his touch.
"Maybe."
Constantine ran his thumb up and down the length of my cock. "Do you want to talk about it?"
I shook my head and blushed. "Not yet. Don't want to tell."
Constantine didn't go any further. But he kept his hand between my legs as we rested on the couch. It felt so warm and cozy snuggling with Daddy, swooning into his body. I felt desired for the first time in my adult life, like Constantine wasn't merely doing me a favor.
A happy breath escapes me as I adjust my pajama bottoms and walk to the kitchen. But I've barely taken two steps when I see Constantine standing by the table.
A stern expression sits on his face. His hands are tucked into his pajama bottom pockets, and he bites his lower lip.
"Good morning, boy." Constantine takes a sip of coffee. "Did you have a good sleep?"
Something I can't quite place works its way through me. I stare at Constantine, and sense that something's wrong.
But even though I wrack my brains, I can't tell what it is. Did I upset Constantine last night? Did I get too close to him and cause him to retreat?
I tighten my grip on Mr. Green as I walk to the breakfast table. "Good morning. Yes, I slept well. Thank you for asking."
Constantine pulls out my chair for me. "Sit, boy. Natalija made veggie omelets with hashbrowns. I know you'll like them."
But I don't sit. Call me crazy, but I can tell something's on Constantine's mind. He has questions he needs to ask me, but he won't spit them out.
Sticking my chin up, I stare into Constantine's eyes. "You have something on your mind." I refuse to mince words or back down. "I can tell, Daddy. Please ask me."
I fight the urge to cry like a stupid little baby. But that's how I feel right now. Constantine and I got so close last night, and now I wonder if I ticked him off.
Constantine lets out a sigh as he takes a step away from me. "I saw your medication on the coffee table yesterday before my meeting with my brother. I have something I need to ask you."
Oh. Shit. This is it.
The moment Constantine asks about my illness and leaves me forever.
Tears well in my eyes as I lower my gaze to my feet. "Oh. I forgot to put it away."
"Omeprazole." Constantine's voice is firm. In control. "I've heard of this medication before. I don't know why you seem so embarrassed to tell me about it."
"Can I snuggle with you on the couch while I tell you?" My eyes burn as I force myself to speak. "It'd make me feel more comfortable."
Constantine smiles as he walks over to me. "Yes, boy. Thank you for using your words to express your feelings. I appreciate that so much."
Wrapping his hand around mine, Constantine pulls me close and leads me to the sofa. He pats the spot next to him, then drapes a blanket around our bodies after we sit.
I burrow into Constantine's chest like a tiny woodland critter as I prepare to tell him my truth. This is my last hurrah. I'm glad Constantine complimented my openness, but he doesn't know the depths of my fears. Every date I've had, every Daddy I've spoken to, abandons me at this exact moment.
If Constantine kicks me out after the wonderful night we had, I don't know what I'll do.
I wipe my tears on Constantine's chest. "I have a condition called LPR. It means my esophagus doesn't close properly, and my throat burns and tickles if I don't take medication."