Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“Yes,” he whimpered. “Fuck—I think so. I haven’t bottomed.”
Possessiveness roared ahead, and I had to gnash my teeth to restrain myself. Somewhat. Not completely. I withdrew my hand from his groin and poured more lotion, and then I slipped my hand down to his ass instead. I had to feel him a bit.
I didn’t give him any warning. I slid my fingers between his cheeks and reached his opening. A tight, soft, untouched little opening.
Peyton sucked in a stuttered breath and smacked his hands onto the counter, his fingers trying fruitlessly to dig into the marble surface.
“You’re telling me this is a virgin little bottom, Peyton?” I pushed the tip of my index finger inside him, and he groaned and nodded. “Christ. How’s Daddy gonna stay away now? This makes me want to visit your room in the middle of the night and take you in your sleep.”
The answer was, Daddy wouldn’t stay away. But I’d practice patience a short while longer.
Peyton all but collapsed over the counter when I withdrew from him and declared he was ready for a day in the sun.
“Are you just g-gonna leave me l-like this?” he stammered incredulously.
“Of course not. I’m gonna bring you with me. Let’s go.”
Peyton was…cranky. It was endearing, funny, and very Julia-like.
It was as if he were reverting mentally, a heady idea that drove me insane with desire. It was evidence. Evidence that he felt relaxed enough, that he trusted me enough, to let go of social constructs and boundaries.
I’d never gone beyond age play when I was active in BDSM, though I’d always had a soft spot for DD/lb. A dear friend of mine was a Daddy Dom, and it was because of him and his Little Boy I found it a lovely fetish. Perhaps with Peyton, I’d get a taste of it for myself. We had the chemistry, in my opinion.
Who knew. Maybe one day.
“Will you stop moping, boy?” I pulled him to me and draped an arm around his shoulders. “It’s a gorgeous day, we don’t have any work, and it’s just you and me.” Using my free hand, I steered the golf cart alongside the expansive hills and bunkers that made up the resort’s golf course.
The other side of the path was all jungle, and past that, sandy white beaches and turquoise water.
“I’m not moping,” he argued. “I’m demonstrating how I feel when you leave me hanging all the time.”
I let out a laugh and twisted his nipple.
“Ow!” He pushed away my hand, and yet, he shifted closer and leaned against my side. “Where are we going anyway?”
“Someplace private.” I pressed a kiss to the side of his head.
We’d reached the end of the golf course, and I turned right. There was a staffed gate, and a woman let us through. After that, it was a short drive straight through the jungle.
I rubbed Peyton’s chest, my fingers returning to his nipples. I liked to play with them. They constricted when I came near, and he broke out in goose flesh so easily.
“Oh, wow.” Peyton gazed up ahead, where a strip of white and a patch of blue parted the jungle. “We’re going to a beach?”
“Mmhmm.”
It was a small cove that was part of a bigger lagoon. The beach itself was no larger than some thirty or forty feet, and the crystal-clear water was cradled by cliffs that were anything but pleasant to walk on. It was possible I’d ventured up on one last time I was here.
Julia didn’t remember it. She’d been too young, but it was comfortable to take her to this specific beach because of the netted barrier between the bases of the outer cliffs. I already had her to worry about; no need to add sharks, jellyfish, and stingrays.
Peyton and I emerged from the jungle and entered heaven on earth.
Everything had been taken care of. The cabana was to the right, with billowing white fabrics hanging down the sides. Not too far away was the tiniest of bungalows; it only held a bathroom and a supply closet. A shower with running freshwater stood right outside of it. And lastly, a barbecue area that’d been prepared for us. I had a note from the staff with instructions on where to find everything from the icebox to the barbecue tongs.
I had reason to believe some of the staff thought I was daft.
“Holy shit,” Peyton breathed. He was out of the golf cart in a second and just as quick to pull out his phone. “I’m gonna take a hundred photos of this place.”
I gave myself a mental pat on the back. He hadn’t reacted as audibly to the Golden Gate or Boston Harbor.
“We’re really gonna be here all day?” he asked in wonder.
“If you want.” I smiled and grabbed the bag and the cooler I’d packed. “I told Cathryn and Mathis we’d meet them for drinks at the hotel around nine. That’s all.”