“Master.” Beo whispers. As his warm breath deftly washes over my cock, he shivers beneath me. With my knees under his shoulders on either side of his torso, I keep him trapped against the mattress— using my bodyweight to pin what’s mine where I need him to be. He places his tongue flat against my cock’s base, teasing and moistening the skin under my shaft.
“Beo!” I reinforce my grip on his hands above his head, and he locks his fingers with mine. The feeling of air blown on wet skin forces me to push up on my knees and escape his sweet torture.
Beo growls as my cock is taken too far from his lips. No sub before him would ever dare such a gesture, but that changed three years ago. My life changed, I changed— for him. I needed to be a better man, deserving of his precious heart. His beautiful love.
“Please,” he begs, and I start to lower my hips. He parts his mouth, but not before a pleased smile cracks the corner of his lips. His eyes seek mine, and I am helpless against the burn in my cheeks. At forty-one, such a thing would be a sin for any man, yet he still succeeds in drawing it out of me. His brown eyes soften with contentment, and he focuses them on my cock once more.
Beo moistens his lips and swallows. God, I could merely sit and watch him the entire day, and I’d be forever grateful.
I hiss aloud when wet heat engulfs my dick. Snapping my hips forward, I thrust my meat down his throat. Beo gags, and I pull back quickly. His nostrils flare, blowing air in and out. “More. Please, Master.”
I rumble above him, and a pearl of precum escapes from my slit. Beo catches it with his tongue, taking it into his mouth. Savoring my taste like it’s a pure drop of heaven. Some days, there are moments I wonder if Beo is more in love with my cock than the Titan wielding it. Inwardly, I chuckle at the imprudent thought. We have been through too much for me to ever doubt his love.
I drop into his mouth again, slower this time, and he sucks. Beo works his tongue under the base of my dick, his lips move like liquid velvet over my meat, and his throat muscles vibrate as he hums. Softly, gradually, I fuck my boy’s beautiful mouth.
Christ, he knows how to make me howl, and I do. Rolling my head back, I let it out loud, flooding my seed down his throat. A watery burn pools in my eyes, my breath hitches, and my chest draws tight. Emotions of complete gratitude rock through my soul. I pull out of Beo’s mouth, release my hold on his hands, and sit next to him. Beo reaches for me, and I cradle him into my lap, pressing him hard against my chest. A shudder rakes my body, and he wraps his arms around me.
“It’s okay, Master.” he whispers, moving his hand up and down my spine.
You’d call me weak; a man of six foot seven, two hundred and eighty-six pounds of pure supremacy, being healed by a twenty-five-year-old who is half my size, with half my muscle.
I am weak.
I will never be as strong as him, as courageous as my boy.
You should know that Beo is my hero.
There was a time, two years back, that he was going to be ripped from my arms, forever.
I thought I was a man, that my money gave me authority and power. Subs begged at my boots, as I took whomever and whatever I wanted. I thought I was untouchable.
Till I met Beo.
Through his pain, I was brought to the lowest point in my life, repentant and broken, shown that I could do nothing. That the money and power I had accumulated over the years meant nothing, and that his life was in the hands of another. A man who held power over my precious boy— a Dom like myself— and I was rendered incapable of doing anything about it.
Only, you won’t understand my ridiculous ramblings. I need to start from the beginning, before I knew my boy existed.