Chapter Twenty Five
Jackson Blake's POV
I'd frantically tucked myself back into my pants before putting the car into first and taking off out the junction and onto the dual carriageway. Turns out the car has a self-drive mode, it didn't come with the model, it's been modified to enable the feature. I wish I'd known, maybe I could have enjoyed his touch more rather than worrying about the car.
I'm flushed in the face and utterly mortified. I mean I was somewhat aware I had a daddy and a praise kink, but that didn't mean I wasn't embarrassed by it. I'd only ever said these things in my head, never out loud.
I've never been embarrassed by my sexuality. I mean sure, at 12 or 13 I'd tried to deny and pretend it was a phase but hasn't every child done that? Growing older I'd never outright denied I was gay, but I'm not exactly an experienced gay, if you will. I didn't have friends or family I needed to come out to. So even if it was unintentional, my sexuality wasn't all that open. Without meaning to, I'm as much of a closet gay as Slater is.
It's not that I wanted it that way, it was just the way things had worked out for me. Blake is the only person I've had to come out to, and even then I never outright told him. He assumed I was straight and I never corrected him, but when he found out, I didn't deny it. The reason I didn't tell him wasn't that I deny my sexuality, we just don't live in an accepting world. People will have their opinions and some of them won't agree with you, I've accepted that. Blake was the first friend I'd made, and if he held those opinions, well, I wanted to avoid throwing a spanner in the works and just enjoy being around someone who liked my company. I wanted to have someone around who didn't think I was a freak for once. Can you blame me for wanting to savor the relationship, even if it only lasted a short while?
But this was Slater we were talking about. A gay man in denial, and in this world, he might as well be the same as a raging heterosexual. He's strong-headed, dominant, but he's mostly confused. So when we're in the moment, I'm comfortable and I express my desires to him. It's when the moment passes, I don't know what reaction I'm going to get out of him so I sit in humiliation and embarrassment at my actions. I guess it's post-nut clarity. I'd just cried and begged the dominating, borderline-straight man, who I have feelings for to make me cum. Of course, I'm humiliated.
Slater and I aren't all that different because I'm many ways I'm still coming to terms with my sexuality. I understand the fear of telling people I'm gay. I understand the embarrassment of having a sexual experience with another man. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy them, it's clear that I enjoy them. It wasn't that I deny my sexuality, I do accept myself. It's the lack of experience and not just sexual experience, but life experience.
I've never been to mini-golf, I've never been in an arcade or a theme park, hell, I went bowling for the first time a few weeks ago. I'm twenty years old and I feel like I've never lived. I've only just lost my virginity and before that, I'd only ever given or received head in the school's supply cupboard or locker room. The trauma I've been through has matured me well beyond my age, but I can't deny that I don't feel good enough. Slater is older than me and meeting someone who has all those experiences overwhelms me and worse of all he's had them with woman, so how could I ever be enough? How could I give him something he's probably experienced with countless other people? Countless other women?
If anything, I'm just a freak with a daddy kink that craves his praise. The weirdo that gets a thrill out of tormenting and angering him until he punishes me. That gets aroused when I'm humiliated by him. Maybe it's the self-doubt and paranoia talking?
I'm humiliated to have behaved like that in front of him. The desires that I never thought would leave my head are now in the open, there for him to judge and mock. I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me anxious and scared of how it made him think of me. But I suppose this is also a reflection of how I feel about myself.
"You're overthinking. It was sexy," his deep voice breaks the silence in the air, pulling me from the dark thoughts my mind had taken me down. I glance over to him, he's slouched in his seat, head back and eyes closed, his hand cupping his balls like any typical man. I'd be lying if I said his words didn't spring a slight warmth of reassurance in me, almost calming the humiliation. But I couldn't answer because my mind fought against me, spinning with paranoia, telling me that he's pulling my leg, that in reality, he's laughing at how pathetic I am.
He grabs my wrist, yanking it towards him, and presses my hand against his throbbing erection. "That's how it made me feel," he groaned out, the contact sending tingles through his body and I couldn't help but stare at him. He really was trying to reassure me? How did he know how I was feeling? What I was thinking? Had I cast my thoughts to him? "Keep your eyes on the road," he mutters out, but his eyes had never opened, they remained closed and his body was still relaxed and yet he knew my gaze was on him.
I returned my eyes to the road, taking in a sharp breath as I moved my hand from his hard shaft and changed the gear to stop the chugging of the car's engine. I shot a quick glance at him, it was strange to see him so relaxed, I was more expecting for him to be angry at himself, what with him pleasuring another man and all that. "Don't expect me to let you cum next time," there was amusement in his tone as he uttered the words. I couldn't help but shift uncomfortably, thinking about the pain I'd be in right now if he didn't let me finish.
I won't deny that it filled me with relief. In truth, I cared more about his opinion than I wanted him to believe. Knowing that I make him feel that way and I didn't turn him off eased my doubts. I know I've called him Daddy before, but it wasn't the same. He'd stormed out and left so I didn't need to think about how embarassed it made me. I could shut it out because he wasn't there to say anything. This time I'd cried tears to pursuade him please me which made it far more humiliating. Not to mention we're both stuck in a stuffy car unable to escape.
We started to get closer to the destination and I couldn't ease the nervousness brewing inside me. What if he hated it? It's all I could think of. I drove up the winding path and in front of us is a large luxury cabin, a hot tub perched on the decking outside, large windows and a glass balcony. The sky is dark but the lights from the house illuminate over the garden and the moon watches over us. It was secluded with a large forest sitting behind the cabin. I wanted it to be a place he'd enjoy, somewhere private and peaceful. But I don't know the man sat beside me well enough. What if I'd got it all wrong? What if he hated it?
"Your overthinking again. I like it," he mutters before pushing open his door and moving round the car to retrieve our bags. I inhale sharply, letting out a deep sigh of relief. Taking another deep breath, I finally get out the car and walk towards the door, typing in the code on a safety box outside so I could get the key. Slater stood behind me, his presense intense as he towers over my anxious figure. I unlock the door and step inside, the warmth encasing me and the smell of pine wood dances in the air. I kick off my shoes, my feet grateful to be released from their prison as the hours of driving had made them ache.
Slater drops the bags to the side and steps around me to take a seat in the lounge. He puts up his feet and switches on the TV and it was weird to watch him look so...relaxed. I've only ever seen him sat behind a desk with papers in his hand. To see him doing something any normal person would it, well, Slater wasn't normal, so it was bizarre. It made him seem a bit more human, which is slightly ironic.
I shook away the nervousness and moved from my frozen spot in the middle of the hall. As I took the seat next to him, I felt stiff and awkward. This just wasn't natural for us. He then lifted up his arm and raised a brow at me, almost wondering why I was acting so weird. I shuffled closer and lay my head on his chest, feeling his arm wrap around me and pull me closer. All the stress, the anxiety and the embarrassment washed away in that very moment. I let out a sigh as I closed my eyes and it just felt so good to be near him.
"What we having to eat?" he hums down to me and I couldn't help but freeze at the question, my body stiffening. I have to cook us food. Shit.
"Urm...lasagne," I sounded hesistant, even though I knew exactly what I was making. I said it like I hadn't paid the owners of the cabin extra to do the shopping before we arrived. Slater raised his brow at me as I twisted my head to look up at him. I groaned, pulling my body away from his and making my way over to the kitchen. I could feel his gaze on me and it only put added pressure on me not to fuck this up. At the time I thought this was a good idea, and now I'm here, this couldn't have been worse.
I got the recipe from my phone and started to mix together the dough. It was rock solid, not even slightly malleable. I groaned in fustration as it crumbled apart in the pasta roller and then I heard his deep chuckle from behind me. I peered over to see him leaning against the breakfast bar, watching me struggle to make the lasagne sheets. A smile of amusement pulled at his lips and I flushed under his gaze. "You can't cook can you?" He laughed and I refused to look at him.
"I can, I'm doing fine," I bit back, hating how funny he found this. I'm trying my best. I hear his steps, but when I realised they were coming towards me and not walking away, the nervousness started to pool again. He's going to be disappointed. Fustrated that I'd dragged him here, away from his work and I couldn't even cook a simple meal.
His back was almost touching my chest and the pressure to get this right started to weigh heavy on my shoulders. "The doughs too dry," he whispered into my hair, his tone still amused as he move his hands over me, grabbing the dough and tossing it off to the side. "You need to start again, you've ruined that batch," his deep voice rumbled through my body but his tone was sweet and gentle. A delicateness that I rarely heard.
"It's hard," I whine and he chuckles, pressing his body closer to mine as he pulls up his sleeves and moves his arms around me to pick up the flour and measures it out. He cracks in the eggs and throws in a pinch of salt, before putting in his hand and kneading it together. His strong arms moved around me, his muscles flexing and his chest pressing against his back. I tried to watch carefully, but his body around me was distracting in all the right ways.
When he finished, the dough was perfectly pliable, and ready to be rolled through the pasta machine. "See, easy," he whispered into my ear and I couldn't help myself, I picked up a pinch of flour and threw it in his face. I looked over to him and burst into laughter, his face covered with the white power and his eyes scrunched up whilst he pursed his lips. My body bent over the countertop and my lower half pressed against him as I double over, unable to contain the fits of laughter. To see someone like Slater with a face full of flour, it was a sight I never wanted to forget.
When I finally calmed down, I noticed how my lower half had brushed against him, my arse buried against his groin, where his now erect shaft pressed against me. I quickly straightened up, pretending I hadn't noticed as I wiped the tears from my eyes. I peer over to him and he'd made an attempt to rub away the flour, but it was stuck in his hair and on the small crevices of his face. I snickered and he shot me a glare, but you couldn't miss how his eyes danced with amusement.
"I'm sorry," I chuckled, my lips curved as I attempted to contain and supress my happiness, my body now turned towards him as I gazed up at him.
"You will be," he bit out, stepping forward so my body pressed to his and moving his head so his lips touched my ear. "Next time, I'll bend you over and spank you until your glowing red," he whispered, biting my lobe as he pulled away. I shivered against him, the idea aroused me and honestly, he could do it now.
"Who said you had to wait until next time?" I muttered up to him, my cock hardening beneath my pants as I stared up at his lust-filled eyes. He stepped back, creating distance between us and it was the exact opposite of what I wanted and he knew it.
"We have food to cook," he smirked down at me before turning around and walking to the fridge. To say we were both sexually fustrated as we navigated our way around the kitchen, was an understatement. The arousal was heavy in the air, but as much as we wanted to rip each other's clothes off, it was nice to just be in each other's company. To cook together, although it was more Slater than me.
When he placed the dish in the oven, I turned to face him as he walked over to me. I couldn't help but take in his body, the tattoos that sat across his body and the countless piercings on his nipples, nose and ears. Everything about him turned me on. Suddenly, a cloud of flour landed in my face and Slater's roaring laughter boomed through the air. I'd have been mad if it wasn't for that sound, the beautiful chime of his laugh made me warm inside. I just wanted to hear it over and over.
I rubbed my face, sneezing as the powder got up nose. "You prick," I hissed but I couldn't help the curve of my lips as I watched him laugh, his eyes wrinkling and teeth shining in the kitchen light. He's so perfect. I walked toward him, gripping his face and roughly locking our lips together. As I pulled back our eyes caught each other and the love swirled in his eyes. Love. "I love you," I whispered. I hadn't meant to say it out loud. His muscles tightened at the words and surprise, worry and fear all glistened in his eyes. He was frozen beneath me, not knowing what to say. It couldn't have been more than a few seconds, but I couldn't bear the awkwardness.
I coughed and pulled away, avoiding his heavy gaze. "Anyway, I'm going to shower because I'm covered in flour. I'll be back down before foods ready," I said loudly, my voice cracking the silence like a whip, my eyes firmly staring at anything other than him.
I stepped back from him and quickly rushed out the room, a heaviness in my heart as I ran up the stairs, desperate to get away from him. Desperate to run away from the words I'd just said. I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the shower, the icy water hammering on my body as I didn't stop to let it warm up. Then I crumbled. Sobs racked my body as I pressed my head to the shower wall. Tears streaming down my face as I choked and spluttered. I couldn't believe I said it out loud. I told him I love him. How could I be so stupid? I'd ruined the perfect moment. This was Slater, what did I expect? For him to say he loved me too? How pathetic could I be in one day? He's a cold and ruthless Alpha, of course he doesn't love me. I'm a plaything. He looks at me and sees a night of good sex, nothing more.
The shower door opened behind me and I spun around, my eyes red and sore, the sobs still trembling through my body. His long strides had him in front of me in seconds and my eyes locked with his, soft and gentle and filled with love. He took my face in his hand and gently captured my lips against his. He didn't rush it, he didn't grab me out of desperation, he just caressed down my body, moving his mouth against mine and pressing me against him. He couldn't say the words, he wasn't ready to say them back because that made everything too real for him, but he couldn't let me succumb to my own dark thoughts. So he was showing me. Showing me that he loves me too.
I take a second to respond, the sobs no longer shaking through my body as I move my hands to his hair and pull him tightly against me. His hands caress my hips and I moan into his touch. He pulls away, switching off the shower and takes my hand in his. He pulls me through the bathroom and into the bedroom before backing me up onto the bed.
I hit the soft mattress, lay on my back and he pulls up my legs, forcing me to rest them on the bed. Our wet bodies dampen the sheets as our eyes lock and he forces his fingers into my mouth. Our eyes don't move from each other as I wet each digit, sucking and licking as his eyes darkened with lust. He pulls them away, before placing them at my entrance and pushing inside. I hiss out, it's still painful to be stretched like that. He finds my gspot and I throw my head back, the tingles electric across my skin.
"Oh my god," I gasp, the way he was touching me made my body light up, desperate for more. I couldn't deny it was nice to see him care about my pleasure. I mean, he's a receiver, much less of a a giver. He's not the type to give any sort of preparation, he's the type to shove it in and fuck you senseless.
I moaned out, my thoughts clouded by the man in front of me. He's not good with words. He finds it hard to express his emotions. Yet the way he touches me tells me everything I needed to know. They do say actions speak louder than words.
He removed his fingers from inside me and took his shaft in his hand. He opened my legs further before putting the tip at my entrance and pushing inside. I hissed in pain, groaning and trying to pull away but his grip on my waist was tight, stopping me from running away. He pressed his body on top of me, trapping me beneath his weight and moving his lips on mine. He started to thrust his hips back and fourth, his hard cock pushing in and out of me and I moaned in pleasure, the bliss of feeling him inside me was indescribable.
His eyes locked with mine, his nose brushing against me and I was mesmerised. I felt full, my heart overwhelmed with happiness and it's a feeling I never want to let go of. The faster he pressed inside of me, hitting every spot inside me, the more I drowned in the pleasure of being with him. I love him. I love him so much I could cry or scream. The pressure built inside me, and he could tell, his lips touched mine in a passionate display of emotions, our lips and tongues tangled together and his hands caressed the crevices of my body.
We didn't need to speak. We didn't need to talk dirty. We just needed our bodies together. I gripped him tighter as the pressure exploded and I felt electricity through my body as I moaned against him. The salty liquid sprayed across our body's and he moaned against me, his eyes tightening and mouth parting as his warm cum filled inside me.
We lay there, panting and sweating, his lips pressing against my jaw, neck and across my mark. I want to give him everything this world has to offer. I want to give him everything I have because I've never felt love like this before. And I'd be lying if I said it didn't scare me. It scares me how much power he has over me.
It's an addiction, to come back and be with this man. The dopamine release when I'm around him is so strong that when I leave, when he's not around, I find it harder to understand the purpose of life. Those six months away from this man, it felt like a lifetime and I never want to experience another moment away from him. Because the fact was, that he might not have said those simple three words, but I felt it. I felt it with every bone in my body.