Dys

Today was Saturday. Simone's birthday, the one you'd been planning with her for two weeks, color coded playlist and all.

You knew who'd show and who wouldn't. Zayne never came to anything with more than five people in a room; he'd send a gift and a text. Sylus would be there past midnight like the party had been waiting on him, which, in fairness, it usually was. Rafayel was still out of town and Xavier —Xavier had walked you to class yesterday and mentioned that he had a test to study for.

He hadn't brought up Wednesday. Hadn't asked for a repeat. He seemed happy just walking beside you in silence, matching his pace to yours, and that was enough. You were relieved because your thighs couldn't take another round like that. He'd made you cum more times than you could count and you'd blacked out before his second orgasm. You woke up to him wiping you down with a warm cloth, humming something under his breath.

And still. You missed Caleb.

He was the only friend who'd been there since high school, back when he felt like a brother —carrying your backpack when your arm was in a cast, threatening a guy who stood you up sophomore year. Then something shifted senior year, some line neither of you named, and it took root over the summer before college and never let go. He hadn't texted you all week. Not once. Not even a meme, not even the thumbs up emoji he used when he couldn't be bothered to type words. That had never happened before, not even the semester he broke his wrist and had to write messages one finger at a time.

You got to Simone's early to set everything up. Gideon showed up a couple of hours later hauling two bags of ice against his hip and Caleb wasn't with him. That was wrong on its own. Those two attended every party together.

"He's coming," Gideon said, before you'd even asked. "Said he had something to take care of."

The party filled up fast after that, someone's playlist too heavy on bass. You stayed near the kitchen with a cup you angled just right so you could watch the door without looking like you were watching it. By the second hour your stomach had knotted itself tight enough that you'd stopped tasting your drink.

Then he walked in.

Not alone. A girl had her hand curled around his arm, up on her toes to say something against his ear, dark hair falling over her shoulder as she leaned in. He laughed at whatever she said, that laugh you'd have recognized anywhere, head tipping back just slightly.

You didn't stay to see if he'd notice you. Cup abandoned on the counter, bag already in hand, the last thing you saw before you were out the back door was him still bent toward her, listening and laughing.

It was cold outside. Colder by the time you'd cut halfway across campus, arms wrapped around yourself, and ran into Greyson. One of Zayne's friends from pre med, someone you'd shared a class with and one very unfortunate group project. He took one look at you shivering in your thin top and shrugged his jacket off without asking.

"Here. You'll freeze before you make it back to your dorm"

"I'm fine," you said, already pulling it on.

He laughed and fell into step beside you anyway, talking about an anatomy exam he was dreading and his girlfriend's alarming obsession with plushies. Easy conversation that didn't ask anything of you, that let you nod and half listen while your mind kept circling back to the door, to the laugh, to the girl's hand on his arm.

At your door he said goodnight and jogged off toward his building as you went inside to let the quiet close over you.

You tossed the jacket over your desk chair and started peeling off your shoes when your hand brushed something hard in the pocket. Keys. You fished them out, it was a single silver one on a carabiner with a chewed up rubber duck keychain.

Not even ten minutes later, someone knocked.

You smiled, already reaching for the keys on your desk. Of course he'd come back for them. You scooped them up, grabbed his jacket and draped it over your arm and pulled the door open, keys dangling from your fingers before you'd even looked up.

"A bit soon to be giving me the keys to your place, don't you thi—?" it was meant to be a joke.

Caleb stood in the hallway, hands shoved in his pockets. His eyes went from the keys swinging from your hand to the jacket slung over your arm, and back again. Whatever smile he'd walked up with was already gone.

"Whose is that?"

His voice had lost the party in it. Gone was the easy tone, replaced by something flat that landed somewhere in your belly.

You knew that tone. Dug in. Stubborn. It was the same voice he used when men tried to put their hands on you. You'd forgotten what that sounded like until now.

Something reckless flared up under your nerves. Days of avoiding him and now he was standing in your doorway looking at you like that. You leaned your shoulder into the frame, unhurried.

"Just a friend's," you said, letting the jacket slip a little on your arm so he'd notice how big it was. "He walked me back from the party. It was cold."

"A friend."

"Mm-hmm." You tilted your head, biting back a smile you didn't try very hard to hide. "Nice guy. Gave me his jacket without me even asking."

"Did he?"

"He did." You shrugged, one shoulder, watching the muscle in his jaw tighten. "Very sweet, actually. I might keep it."

Caleb moved, one step, closing half the distance between you, and you found yourself backing up without deciding to.

"What's his name."

"Why does it matter?"

"I just want his name."

"Jealous?" The word came out lighter than you felt. You tipped your chin up, daring him.

His eyes narrowed. "Should I be?"

You didn't answer. You just held his gaze, arms crossed loosely, jacket bunched against your ribs, and let the silence do the talking. You'd meant it as a tease. It landed like a confession.

Caleb's hand caught the door before you could think to close it, and stepped over the threshold like he had every right to be there. The door closed behind him with a heavy sound that cut off the hallway light and the cold.

"You've been running from me all week," he said.

"I haven't—"

"Don't." One word, quiet, and it stopped you cold. "I saw you by the food truck Tuesday. Wednesday you turned around and walked into a building you don't even have class in. Today you bolted out the back door the second I walked through the front." He took another step. You were nearly at your desk now, nowhere left to go. "So don't tell me you haven't been running."

Your ass met the edge of the desk. He didn't stop until there was almost nothing between you, close enough that you caught the cold night air still clinging to him, and under it, the same warm cedar smell you'd have known blindfolded.

"Maybe I like it when you chase me," you said, the teasing thinner than you wanted it to sound.

Something shifted in his face. "Yeah?"

"Maybe."

He leaned in, slow, until his mouth hovered a breath from yours, close enough that if either of you moved even slightly you wouldn't be able to help it. Your heart was beating hard against your ribs.

"Say that again," he murmured.

You didn't say anything at all.

"Maybe I should go find him, thank him properly for lending you his jacket."

"Caleb—"

"What's his name?" A ghost of a smirk, infuriating. His nose brushed yours, and you nearly closed the gap yourself before he pulled back a fraction, just out of reach.

"You're impossible."

"You like impossible." He tilted his head, closing in again, slower this time, until his lips almost grazed yours and then he stopped there too, breath warm against your mouth, watching you through half lowered lashes. "Tell me to stop."

"Stop," you whispered, and it came out all wrong, breathless instead of firm.

"Try again." He was smiling now, a smile that didn't reach his eyes so much as darken them. "Say it like you mean it." he pulled back again, like he had all the time in the world and you had none.

Your fingers curled into the front of his shirt "You're doing this on purpose."

"Obviously."

He came in again, and this time you swore his mouth grazed yours, barely, gone before you could be sure it happened at all. A soft, frustrated sound climbed up your throat.

"Caleb."

"Yeah?" he still hovered there, he needed you to break first.

Fisting his shirt, you hauled him down and crashed your mouth into his.

He groaned like you'd finally given him something he'd been starving for, one hand sliding into your hair, the other gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him. The jacket dropped from your fingers, forgotten on the floor. He kissed you like the last few days had been sitting in his chest the whole time, like the wait had worn through whatever control he'd been holding onto.

He walked you backward until your knees hit the mattress, and when you sat down hard he followed you down "No more running," he said against your jaw "Not from me."

Your fingers shook, but the urgency in your chest didn't leave room for nerves to win. You caught the hem of his shirt and pulled it up his torso, and he lifted his arms without being asked, letting you drag it off and drop it behind you. You slid your hands down to his belt and he took over from there, working it loose himself, shoving his jeans down with one impatient kick until he was standing in nothing but his underwear.

The fabric strained. The thick outline of his cock was impossible to miss.

You didn't mean to stare and he didn't give you time to. He leaned over you, pulling your top over your head in one motion, and his hands went around your back a second later, unhooking your bra like he'd done it a hundred times in his head already. The marks Rafayel had left were still faintly there. You didn't notice him catch sight of them, you were too busy working your jeans down, kicking them off.

The room's light hit the bruises on your inner thighs.

Caleb went still. His breathing turned loud and something crossed his face you'd never seen on him before, not once in all the years you'd known him.

"Who?"

It wasn't even a full question. You couldn't answer it. You couldn't even lift your eyes to his, heat crawling up your neck, half shame, half something closer to fear.

His hand found your jaw, careful even now, but firm enough that you couldn't look away from him.

"I'll find out either way"

You said nothing. Your mouth stayed shut, lips pressed together, and he pulled back like he meant to walk away from the whole thing. Panic shot through you and you grabbed his forearm, held on.

"It wasn't a stranger," you whispered.

"Then who."

He was already working through it, you could see him doing it, running through the short list of people close enough to you that this made sense. He didn't need the full story. He just needed a name.

"Rafayel," you said, and then, because there was no version of this where you got to leave it there, "and Xavier."

The color left his face. "At the same time?"

"No." You shook your head fast. "No, it wasn't like that..."

That was as far as you got before he pulled his arm free and stepped back from the bed like it had burned him.

He didn't look at you. He started pacing between your desk and the window, one hand dragging through his hair over and over, like he could pull the thought straight out of his own skull.

"Rafayel," he muttered, more to the wall than to you. "Of course. Probably had you half convinced it meant something, didn't he?" A short breath, no humor in it at all. "And Xavier." He said the name like it left a bad taste. "Quiet Xavier. Too tired for a party, but not tired enough for that."

He stopped at the window, both hands braced on the sill, shoulders locked up tight. For a second he just breathed.

"I gave you space," he said, quieter now, and the quiet was worse than the pacing had been. "After Zayne's, I backed off. Thought you needed space. Figured if I pushed, you'd run, so I didn't." He turned around, and the storm on his face had gone raw underneath. "And they didn't. They just moved into the space I left. Used it."

"Caleb, that's not fair, they didn't—"

"Didn't what?" his jaw ticked. "Know you were vulnerable right after? Because I think they knew exactly what they were doing." He crossed the room until he was close enough that you had to tip your head back to keep his eyes. "Did either of them ask what you wanted? Or did they just take what you were too shaken to say no to?"

"It wasn't like that."

"Then tell me what it was like." He crouched slightly, hands braced on the mattress on either side of you, caging you in without touching you "Because I waited. I told myself slow was better than not at all." His eyes dropped to the marks on your thighs and back up, something dark moving behind them. "They didn't wait for anything."

You fingers curled around his wrist "You're the one standing in my room right now."

Something flickered across his face —not a smile, too sharp for that, but close to one. "Yeah," he said. "I am."

His fury was still there, sitting in his jaw and his hands but his touch when it landed wasn't rough. It was heavy.

He didn't look for unmarked skin.

He went straight for what they'd left behind.

His mouth found your chest first, closing over the fading marks Rafayel had put there, and he sucked —slow and thorough— his tongue working until the skin flushed dark underneath his lips. His. Over the top of someone else's, but his now. When he was done he moved down, his thumbs pressing into the bruises on your inner thighs, pinning your legs open while his mouth found the soft flesh there and bit down soft enough not to hurt but hard enough to mark.

"Mine," he said, against your skin. "Every single one. By morning."

His fingers hooked into the leg bands of your underwear, pulling the fabric taut against you. "Your pretty pussy is already soaking through these."

He didn't take them off.

He dragged his tongue up the center seam instead, one slow stroke, and the friction of it through the soaked fabric hit your clit with a sharpness that snapped your hips off the mattress. He caught you, both hands pressing your hips back down, and then his mouth was on you again, lips closing around the swollen bud through the thin wet cotton, sucking in slow pulls that made your vision blur at the edges.

"I should have been first," he said, against the fabric, his voice vibrating through it and into you. The pressure of his lips didn't let up for a second while he talked. "I'm going to spend a long time thinking about that. How I had years and I waited and now I have to share something that should have been mine from the start."

The build was fast, mean and gave you no warning. You came with your fingers twisted in his hair and his name in your throat, soaking through the fabric completely.

He watched you, gave you approximately three seconds.

Then he pulled your underwear down your legs, dropped them off the side of the bed and his mouth was back before you'd finished shaking — bare now, his tongue flat and heavy against you, licking with an attention to detail that made your spine curl. He used two fingers to spread you open, his tongue pressing into your entrance, drawing back up to your clit.

"When I'm inside your mouth," his breath felt warm against your wet skin "I'm going to make you taste what you do to me." He kept going until you came a second time. This one was quieter and left you with tears leaking from the corners of your eyes, his name coming out in pieces.

He gave you a moment. Not a long one. Just enough to take his underwear off and then his hands grabbed your hips, lifting you slightly off the mattress, guiding himself to your entrance. He pushed inside — just the crown and the first two inches — and stopped there.

The sound you made was filthy.

It was everything you had imagined. The stretch, the fullness, the weight of him just sitting there while your body tried to accommodate it and couldn't decide between pulling him in and pushing him out. He stayed there until your mind went blank and your hands found the sheets and gripped. Then he pulled out.

The emptiness felt awful.

He shifted up the mattress and settled on his knees in front of your face, fully hard, the evidence of the last few minutes glistening on his skin, and looked down at you.

"Tell me when to stop and I'll stop."

"Don't stop." Your voice had no strength left in it. Just the words, barely above a whisper.

"Open your mouth when I tell you to."

His thumb came down to your lower lip, pressing into the center of it, pulling it slightly down. He watched your mouth part under the pressure "Do you want me inside your pretty mouth?"

"Yes."

He leaned in just enough. Dragged the tip across your upper lip, leaving a hot wet streak against your skin, watching your face while he did it.

"Say it."

Your hands came up to grip his thighs, fingers pressing into the muscle there. "I want to suck your dick."

The exhale that left him wasn't quiet. "Good girl."

He took his time, dragging the head of his cock across your lips, down your cheek and back to your mouth, leaving a trail of pre across your skin that made something in your chest clench with how much you wanted it.

You kept your eyes on his the entire time. You wanted him to see how much you wanted this.

"Open up, sweet girl"

His cock came back to rest against your lips and your mouth opened wider on instinct, the whole talk flashed through Caleb's head in the same second —Zayne's voice, clipped and deeply irritating.

She isn't built like you. Don't push inside when she isn't ready or you'll hurt her throat. She has to breathe through her nose. Don't fight her jaw. Let her drool on it as much as she can, you'll thank me later. It needs to be slow. If you rush it, you hurt her.

His knuckles had gone white against the mattress. He slowed down.

Pressed inside carefully, just the tip, feeling your lips wrap around him and your breath change as your body adjusted. He stopped there. Watched your eyes. Waited for the slight shift in your expression that meant you were ready before he went any further.

"That's it," he managed, his voice mostly gone. "Breathe through your nose. Take your time."

You did. Your hands wrapped around the base, thumbs tracing the veins there while you let the saliva build and run, coating him in a way that made the slide easier and the visual of it more overwhelming than anything else that had happened tonight. You started to move, slow forward bobs that took him a little deeper each time, your tongue working the underside on the draw back.

Caleb made a sound above you that had nothing controlled left in it.

He matched the pace —hips rolling forward in shallow, careful thrusts that tested the back of your throat, a hand in your hair gripping without pulling, his whole body wound up and trembling slightly with the effort of not taking what he wanted at the speed he wanted it.

"You're so—" He stopped, jaw tight, trying again. "Suck it harder. Taste yourself on me. You can feel it, can't you."

You could.

You sucked harder, felt his thighs tense under your hands, felt the groan that moved through his whole body when your lips slid all the way down and your nose pressed into him and you held it there, looking up at his face.

The sight was doing something to him.

Your mouth stretched around him, eyes wet at the corners, saliva running down your chin and onto your chest in slow trails, and you were looking up at him. That was the part that was killing him. You were not looking away, not closing your eyes. You were loking directly at him with a ruined stare while you took him apart with your mouth, and every time he thought he had some grip on his composure you'd do something with your tongue and it was gone again.

He wanted to grip your hair and drive forward and lose his mind entirely.

Not yet. He held still. Let you set the pace. Let your mouth work him at the speed you'd decided on.

"God," he breathed, his head dropping back for a second before he forced it back down because he couldn't look away from you. "I've thought about this. Exactly this. More times than you can imagine."

The tears running from the corners of your eyes weren't distress. He knew the difference. Your hands were firm and steady on his thighs and every time you pushed forward to take him deeper there was a small sound in your throat that sent a pulse straight up his spine.

"That's it, just like that. Keep going just like that and don't stop."

You swallowed around him in response. His hips snapped forward an inch before he caught himself.

You noticed. Your eyes said so.

He pressed his thumb to the corner of your mouth, feeling the stretch of your lips around him. "You're so good at this," he said, the words coming out unsteady. "So fucking good. Look at you taking all of it. Other girls—"

He'd said it without thinking, his brain running three seconds behind his mouth, and he felt the exact moment it landed because your rhythm changed.

Faster.

Your eyes had gone somewhere else —still on his face, but different now, something sharp moving through them that had nothing to do with what you'd been doing a second ago. Your hands tightened on his thighs. Your mouth pushed forward, taking him deeper than you had been, the angle shifting in a way that made his breath leave him all at once.

"Wait—" he started.

You hummed. It wasn't accidental. A low vibration right around the tip of his cock, your throat working, your cheeks hollowed, and whatever sentence he'd been constructing about other girls dissolved completely because his brain stopped producing language.

"I didn't—" He tried again. Failed again. Your head was moving faster now "That's not what I —, I wasn't—"

You hummed again, deeper this time, and took him further.

"Okay. Okay. There are no other girls. There have not been — in any meaningful way — other girls. You are the only girl. You are the only—" His thighs were shaking. "Please, you have to—if you keep doing that I'm going to—"

You didn't stop doing that.

Your hands moved to grip his ass, pulling him forward, inviting a depth that made his whole body seize up.

"You're—" he looked down at you with an expression that was completely gone for you. "You're jealous and you're doing this on purpose and it's working. You've made your point."

You hummed a third time. Longer. Right over the most sensitive part of him. Your eyes were saying everything your mouth was otherwise occupied with.

The sound that came out of him was not quiet. He didn't have time to pull back. He didn't even try.

He came hard, the first pulse hitting the back of your throat without warning, and he felt you swallow — fast and determined— and then the next wave and the next, each one heavier, the volume of it backing up past your lips and running down your chin, dripping onto your chest.

You were watching him fall apart and made sure he knew you were watching.

His thighs were shaking and he was coming back slowly, the room reassembling itself around the two of you.

He looked down at you.

Lips swollen, chin a complete mess, eyes bright and entirely satisfied with yourself.

He reached down and dragged his thumb slowly across your lower lip.

"Other girls do not exist. As far as I'm concerned, going forward, they never did."

Something in your expression shifted. The jealous edge softening into something warmer.

"Good," you said, and your voice was ruined too, something he found extraordinarily satisfying.

He brought his thumb to your lip. "Open."

You opened. He pressed inside, watched you close your lips around it, watched you hold his gaze while you tasted what was on it.

He pulled his thumb back.

"You're going to be the death of me," he said. Just a fact. A fact he was making peace with.

He brought his mouth to yours. Tasting everything, not flinching from any of it.

When he pulled back his forehead dropped to yours "I'm not done," he said, into the space between your faces.

"I know," you said.

"I want to do this right." His hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing your cheekbones, "I've been waiting too long to rush it."

Years. Easy laughter. Carefully maintained distance. Him looking at you the whole time with that steady certain gaze that you'd been pretending not to understand.

"Then don't"

He kissed you again. Softer this time. And then he laid you back against the mattress and took his time.

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Owning a multi-billion dollar business is not easy, even a man like Dad Sylus gets so stressed. His favorite way to destress is to find you lazily sprawled out on your stomach in bed. Like always.

As you scroll through your phone, he settles behind you. Head resting on your butt, legs trapped under him so you can't crawl away.

"Hey! You're too heavy-!" You whine, trying to move your thighs but you're completely immobilized, "Get offff"

"In a moment, I have a meeting with troublesome men tonight. At this very hour, they plan to ruin us. It will fail but.." He sighs like an eye roll, and you freeze feeling a large warm hand feel up and down the curve of your ass, " You don't really mind if I lay here, right kitten? You make a very good pillow."

So many pet names, whenever Dad Sylus wants your attention and crude affection, which is all the time.

Kitten. Sweetie. Baby. Princess. His voice lures you into his touch every time. Like the way you'd pet a cat, he's careful but so eager.

You relent with a scowl, "Fine..but no snoring."

“Good girl. Now stop moving, pillows don’t squirm.”

You can't believe how scattered you get every time he opens his mouth. Body brimming with heat and you trying to fight the urge to relieve it.

You swear Dad Sylus lives in the walls or something. Always buying you things the minute it comes out of your mouth, regardless if he's around or not. Millions of dollars worth of jewelry left on your bed. New clothes in your closets. His spending habits used to confuse you, but you can interpret the gifts as his way of being nice. So you happily accept each one.

And it doesn't matter what you want or need, Dad Sylus will get it for you with no shame. The charger to your vibrator breaks and the next day you find a mini sex store inside your bedside drawer. A variety of toys with different colors and curves for your pleasure. You wonder if this is something your dad should be giving to you, especially the dildo.

You despise it, the way it looks and feels so realistic in your hands. You're too embarrassed to give it back and fussy that he gave it to you, but you're curious enough one night to give it a try.

And damn your curiosity. It takes one time of slowly easing yourself down on it's thick silicon shaft wet with lube (that he also bought), chewing on your lip as you're touched in places you've never felt before. One time becomes multiple over the course of weeks, months. Your latest gift from Dad Sylus being the only thing that can make you cum the way you want. You're completely addicted to the stretch that leaves you breathless-vibrator be damned.

Dad Sylus has strange habits but that's just the way he is. Like picking out your outfits for a day trip or personally making your meals (despite having chefs on-call). He leaves the door ajar when he showers so you can hear him sing a classic. Pays no mind to your prying eyes and he lets you enter if you need something, even though there are plenty other bathrooms.

It becomes a normal occurrence for you to crawl into his bed when you can't sleep. You forget Dad Sylus ritually sleeps naked, but by the time you're drowning in sheets laced with his scent, it's way too late and you don’t care. You're out like a light to the sounds of his sleepy moans, to your name timid under his breath.

He cuddles you when you roll towards his side of the bed. As if his cock wouldn't be brushing against your thighs all night. Sometimes you join him nude and Dad Sylus complains about how cold you are. He mothers you in his muscles when you try to inch away. Hums a lullaby in his low gravel voice as a way to appease you.

He can't tell if you know what you're doing, but Dad Sylus doesn't mind. He's willing to satiate any desire you might have, except the one that has you mewling his name at night. He's so mean about it but fair enough, considering how highly inappropriate that would be.

So when you "accidentally" brush a hand against his belt and let it linger, he takes your wrist and gives it a kiss. When you try to go for an actual kiss, he distracts you with something shiny and it always works.

Even perched on his lap entertained by the TV, he holds your waist steady in his big hands. He admires your hips and stops the subtle grind of your lower half hoping to provoke him.

Being denied over and over again, no matter what, is infuriating. Especially when you can get anything else you want. But the rejection only makes you bolder, much to his enjoyment.

The idea of giving up doesn't exist in your head. You're entitled and persistent just like the spoiled brat you are, but it's his fault isn't it? He encourages it, Dad Sylus admires the depth of your lust for him and for life. How it grows day by day, never satisfied. You have his avarice, maybe even more than that. And by god is he proud of it.

You're shy to say what's on your mind though, even when it's all over your face. But you're a sly one, crawling to kneel between his legs as you corner him. A mere kitten eyeing him down like a beast.

It's a sight he'll never forget, the curve of your nose and warmth from your blush-stained cheek nuzzling against his growing print. Like an animal that wants food. Absolute perfection.

"I was wondering where you ran off to" He says, looking away from his book. More attentive to how pleased you seem. Like you've won something.

Dad Sylus is a lover of learning. Of teaching you a thing or two. He can't let you get what you want that easily, what kind of lesson would that be?

So he holds your head back with one hand. Gently guides your tongue away from his firming erection and back into your pouty little mouth. Letting you suck on width of his thumb instead.

"Am I on the menu tonight?" He questions, tenderly amused as your mouth hollows. He rubs the wet fleshy inside of your cheek and plays with the flick of your tongue "You already ate your dinner, but you look so hungry.."

"Maybe it wasn’t enough.." You retort, eyes narrowed with his finger still in your mouth, and you lick around it with baited persuasion,

You're joking, obviously, but he looks serious when he says, “That appetite of yours is quite impressive.”

It takes patience, and Dad Sylus considers himself a very patient man. He has to be in order to be so, but you make him reconsider everything.

You exist inside a place intensely buried in his soul that's foreign to him, and it desperately wants to be freed. Surprises come rare to a man that's seen everything. He ponders contemplative but his wicked grin already knows the answer, "Tell me what you're in the mood for kitten. I'm feeling generous tonight."

To Dad Sylus, all the years of stalking you from a distance is worth it when he decides to indulge you. Getting to see your sweet beautiful eyes grow big like saucers. Mouth drooling, thighs squeezing together when he slowly unbuckles his belt in his favorite red arm chair.

Night sky. Roaring rain. Handsome fire behind you.

The flames make the crimson in his eyes alluringly haunting as Dad Sylus pulls out the long heavy cock you've been teasing. Same one you've been creaming around all this time much to your surprise. The only difference is this one is real and leaks against his fist. It's raw and it smells like him. Like a real man.

"Looks familiar doesn't it?" He teases, " But you already knew that. Don't look so surprised."

He strokes himself, up and down in front of your face. A drip of precum falls on your nose and you don't even wipe it. You're only meant to look, hands tucked under your plush calves kneeling before him. No touching.

"Why did you give me that toy daddy?" You ask him, feigning innocence,

You watch the way his head slant to the side mischievously, "I wanted to know what you'd do with it." He goes, without an inch of shame, "I'm glad it was well received."

Your face heats up with the idea of him listening through the cracked door to your bedroom. Him seeing you keep it close to your bed. There's a sense of regret you feel for being so shameless, but he reaches over to caress your face,

"You sound so beautiful pleasuring yourself like that. And when you feel good, I do too ."

"Then.." You offer with a subtle leer, "I should show my gratitude right? For the gift?"

"Sure," A ringed finger curls to draws you in closer, where you can lay your head on his meaty thigh, "But nothing more and nothing less kitten."

He chuckles at your huff and taps his swollen cock head against your pout playfully. Mixes precum with your lip gloss that you immediately lick. It's sweet, just like the soft moan that leaves his throat when you kiss his cock the way you kiss his cheek before breakfast. Lips soft and innocently pressed on his tip. Slow pecks against his shaft but you can't stop your tongue peeking out for another taste.

"Tease.." He sighs pleasantly, cock smearing over your bottom lip,

"You don't like it?" You ask, tasting him on your lips

"Does it seem that way?" He muses, eyes glancing to his cock then to your mouth, "Do it again. Give daddy one of your kisses."

It's sloppy, your mouth covering him in your slipping drool. Wiping every bead of precum that drips from the head with the curl and flick of your tongue.

"Keep going.." He gently urges, a hand smoothing over your hair, "Show me how grateful you are."

The taste of Dad Sylus takes root in your brain, growing an arousal that dampens your panties to ruin. You can't stop yourself from wrapping your lips around the head, feeling it pulse against your tongue as you suck.

"Mm..kitten you're letting greed consume you" He lightly scolds,

But he doesn't make any move to pull out. Rather, he urges deep deep past your lips, eases your jaw to widen like your eyes. Avoiding your teeth as he's snug heavy in your throat. You squeal and gag, trying to pull away on full instinct.

"Don't run..you asked for this," He's quick, puts a hand on the back of your head keeping you still as he slots back in, "You can do it. Just relax and breathe."

Dad Sylus lovingly fucks the path down your throat, feeling how you melt. Your tongue obedient and caresses his length as he strokes himself with it. You feel him and all the dilated blood vessels firm with the wetness of your throat.

"You're a fast learner. No surprise there." He breathes your praises, cock twitching along the gentle suction of your doughy cheeks, "You feel full kitten?"

Air passes through your nose, but your head feels light and fuzzy as you moan weakly nodding your head. You're soaked to tears with your heart racing, inner thighs and your pussy all drenched, like the beads of sweat running down back.

Dad Sylus can almost taste you in his mouth. Your scent, sweeter than ever, makes his cock leak like it's crying down your throat.

For the first time in his life, his patience runs empty. Whether its appropriate or not, whether it's right or wrong, that was never a question. Dad Sylus sets you on the priceless rug in front of the fire. Gifts you the unforgettable sight of him puling off his reading glasses, and undoing his tie with the rest of his clothes.

You pull him impatiently to your lips, arms wrapping hungrily around his neck. A very indulgent kiss that has his lower half grinding needily between your legs, against the wetness that overtakes your panties.

"Ha..what a messy kitten…" He whispers with a mocking tune, fingers rubbing your slit, “I didn’t know you were this sensitive.”

A chair pillow placed under your head as Dad Sylus peels the clothes off your body, mouth immediately on the skin that's exposed to him just like the firelight. Sucking the hardening peaks of your tits, the rise and fall of your stomach when your shirt goes. Leaving bite marks at your hips to kiss down your pubic bone, down to your pussy when your bottoms are pulled below your knees.

"Are you sure is this what you want?" A friendly last warning he offers, before you relationship descends into great darkness, "I won't stop once you get me going. Even if you tell me to."

He's grinning when his hushed words make you squirm like you're trying to hide from him.

"Good," You say with a puff of indignant air, back arching as he nips your inner thigh, "You're not allowed to leave me for the rest of the night. Tomorrow night too. And! The night after that."

"Cute.." He whispers fondly, like your words revive something in him, "You don’t actually hate me do you?"

"…Isn't it obvious?"

An undeniable yes, and Dad Sylus wastes no time with it. The fire behind you can't compare to his gaze bearing into yours. His mouth moves like he's wretched to consume every inch of you swallowed like time is endless.

Your body's been brimming with excitement since you cornered him. You're so sensitive the sound of his lips covered in your arousal, making out slowly with your clit is too much. When he slowly feeds you two thick fingers, your back arches off the carpet in bliss.

"D-ah-daddy.."

"I know kitten" He coos, "Such a tight little thing even though you love fucking that fake cock."

Even so, his fingers and his mouth wreck you in perfect tandem. You're a sweaty, shaking mess like your body is short circuiting, "Feels-s-good-" You croon, "More..please "

The once quiet study is filled with your loud cries as Dad Sylus devours you with no mercy. Even when you thread your fingers through his hair and pull, he groans blissful and pulls against your grip. Stuffs his face while feeding your pussy his fingers, double the size of your own. Rubbing the places you're fragile at so affectionately. He doesn't stop until you're squirting warm into his mouth with nonsense blubbering from your lips.

He's dreamt about this moment for years. He's always been jealous of his own gift to you, and he makes a mental note to get rid of it.

You don't need it anymore, a meager toy would never make you so audacious to get on top. To keep him down as you line his cock between your thighs at your core.

Even with how much confidence you exude, Dad Sylus and his loving hands escape your restraints to smooth out the nervous shivers down your spine.

"Scared?" He asks delicately, kissing behind your ear before whispering, "Don’t rush it.”

The head of his cock pushing in almost melts away inside the second you impale yourself.

"..Good girl" He groans with a faint growl, "Nice and slow.."

The head is enough to have you whimpering, his fake replica never felt this thick " 's so big daddy.." you softly mewl

"Of course it's big I’m your father kitten" He drips back into your ear, while holding your chin with gentle fingers, knowing damn well it's not nearly enough, "I’ll always be too big for you."

You glare at him mocking you and hug his neck, face dug into the crook where his cologne smells the strongest. Dad Sylus holds you like that in his arms. Like your trying to crawl beneath his skin. You shake your head, biting his neck when you sink down a little past the tip, where he gets all thick and veiny.

"Sit on your throne princess" He whispers like a bite to your earlobe, from you squeezing like his cock like he owes you something, dragging up and down shallowly, "That's it..let me in."

You're tempted to go all the way down to settle on his lap, but you want to mess with him. A little. As payback. So you pause.

"Hm..?" a lazy hum rumbles from his throat,

"I can't.." You whisper almost like your out of focus, " Too much-"

Which is so far from the truth, but he takes the bait. For a moment.

"That's alright" He promises with a sarcastic smirk, seeing right through you, "I had a feeling you couldn’t handle it. I’ll just give you the tip, how about that?"

"That's n-not what I meant-"

You try to sink even lower but his grip stops you immediately.

"But you just said it’s too much for you," His words condescending , "And I would never dream of hurting my one and only. No matter how much I want to stretch her little pussy out."

You moan almost impatiently, writhing against massive chest. You hear him chuckle, nipping and kissing at your neck.

"But my thighs are sore.." You snivel, another lie

In response to that, Dad Sylus changes positions. Puts you on your back with him hanging above you, with enough force you can't fight back.

"Better now?" He asks, holding you to his liking before pushing back inside. Barely. His hips give shallow strokes while beaming at the sight of your pouty face, "You're so cute whining like that."

The smugness of his smile makes you quick to get your legs around him with a frown. Just as he taught you in the gym, your thighs give an overwhelming squeeze. Ankles crossed behind his back before he can stop you.

“A-ah..”It buries him immediately, "Christ.." He hisses, "So you were messing with me huh?"

He can't stop it, the way he slides deep with so much ease a pleasurable shudder travels from him into you.

" It's not a good to lie to me baby" He groans, lips flashing a salacious smile. His hips immediately start to reel and push, breaking out of your hold but you don't even care. Thighs wide to accommodate him, "Be good and..take your punishment."

Dad Sylus fucks like you imagined he would. He might be kind to you, he might treat you like a spoiled princess but the strength of his body is barbaric. He grabs your hands trying to touch him and binds them together above your head. So easily done, it knocks the air out of your lungs.

"Daddy s-slow-" You half-beg as he ruts into your sloppy cunt. His quiet office overwhelmed with the lecherous sound of skin smacking, of his growls like your were made to mate with him.

"I gave you slow and you didn't want that." He says, breath fanning your face like an aggressive beast, "I rather give it to you like this kitten-I might as well, you've been grabbing at it for awhile."

Dad Sylus knows that his ruthlessness is what you've been hoping for all this time. You start tearing up, whimpering for him, but he doesn't listen. The hot squeeze of your cunt and the pull of your glassy eyes bring him unfathomable pleasure and it loosens his composure.

He's flipping you over on your knees fucking you full in front of the flames. Your entire body bakes in the heat, dripping in his arms like nectar. He's groping at your chest, selfishly all over your smaller body. Hips digging where he wants to barely thrusting. His cock fits so much better than the toy, knocking on the spots entangled in your stomach that make you quake in his grip. Your twitching cunt flooding him with drooling spasms.

"You take me in so well..so soft and wet.." He whispers against your skin, a hand feeling up where his swollen cock pokes dull through the supple flesh of your stomach, "I'm so proud baby"

“Daddy..” You’re blabbering, his praises always mess you up, “l-love your cock-“ You head tilts back to look up at him, "Love you-smuch daddy-"

Dad Sylus never thought you'd utter those words to him. It lodges his heart like a bullet and travels. Goes to his cock that throbs as you

You feel a hand hold the column of your neck, keeping your gaze on the way his eyes glimmer.

"About time you said it" He says warmly, "You already know I adore you. You belong to me-body and soul-"

“Mhmmhm” You do your best to nod through every mind shattering nudge towards your cervix.

Dad Sylus truly believes you are the same as him. It's why you can pleasure each other so intensely. His fingers squeezing the sides of your throat, teasing the hood of your clit below. Making your eyes flutter back. You clamping down on his length like a vice, milking him as you're about ready to burst around him.

Therefore there's nothing wrong with flooding your womb with his seed, dragging you back into his bullying hips. You own half of him and he possesses half of you. In his eyes, you and him are the same so it only makes sense to leave your sore pussy satisfied and bred. Glistening white slowly oozing to drip onto the carpet as your hole twitches from the after shocks. He pushes it all back in to watch it leak out again.

No one’s aftercare is as good as his. Dad Sylus is a natural. A hot shower then loose clothes and bed. Entangled with him as he kisses the soreness away.

Dad Sylus isn’t willing to share. What kind of man gives away his most prized possession? The idea of it is repulsive. Even when rumors start floating around and suspicions linger, nothing matters but making his girl happy.

“Yeah?” His voice is gruff and hoarse, almost like he’s keeping a whimper tight in his throat. His leg bounces as fast as his heart pounds his chest. You’re so pretty, with your pretty parted lips, and how your saliva keeps it just wet enough to shine in the warm lamp light. So plump for him to kiss and bite—

“As I was saying,” You pull your hand away, not hearing the small whine that leaves him from the lack of contact. “We need to make sure you’re comfortable for the next few hours. You said you can get agitated when there’s full moons, right?”

“Mmh.” Better a grunt than a moan. You brush it off assuming the effects of the celestial event are starting to mess with him internally.

Of course, you’re well aware that he’s got an extra pair of fluffy scratchable ears on the top of his head, an even fluffier tail protruding from the base of his spine, and sharper canines. You’re not ignorant. 

What you don’t know is that he’s much more prone to getting heated in these hours. Especially in the presence of someone who his body, mind, and soul are attuned to completely. It’s you. You're that someone.

But he has to behave for your sake. He can’t be bad, he can’t be too rash and aggressive or he might scare you off. You might not like it. But he wants you so damn bad, he can’t even hide it anymore. 

You’re rattling about restraints, something to tie him to incase he goes berserk.

Restraints. Belts. Muzzle. Chair. Tie him to a chair. He wants you to tie him to a chair.

He wants you to restrain him. He wants you to sit on his lap and feel how hard his cock is for you, feel it throb just below your cunt, grind his hips up to you still so retrained and held back that he has to beg you to ride him. He might as well ask for it. 

“…unless that’s too extreme.” You mutter, expecting a response. Nothing. Did he zone out again? What’s going on with Valko to be so distracted? He wasn’t like this last month. “Look, I know the full moon can be a messy time for you, and now that it’s a supermoon it could be worse, but I’d prefer you to actually respond— oh.”

Valko is drooling. Valko’s eyes are glazed over. Valko is blushing beyond relief. And Valko is sporting a rock hard boner.

The silence that stretches between you would have been uncomfortable, it should have been. But you seem to enjoy the rough pants that escape his lips, how his hands are balled into fists to keep himself at bay. How the veins on his neck are far more prominent now. 

You sink your teeth into your lower lip, hoping you won’t say anything foolish. 

“Don’t laugh.” Valko grits, his fluffy ears drooping a little. 

“I wasn’t going to.” You say, trying to ignore the fact that your lips are twitching into a smile.

You glance down from his agitated golden eyes to his neck, to his large muscular chest covered by the black tank you always find so attractive on him, to the taper of his waist, to the pulsing print of his cock bulging against his pants.

Now that you think of it, you two haven’t shared the bed recently. You’ve both been so busy with work that neither of you have had time for each other. And you’ve been very wound up these last few days.

“I think we should figure out what restraints will be good for you.” A purr follows your words as you rest your hands on his chest. Muscular, warm, huge chest that you love to sleep on. You’re making this much, much worse and you know it. You can hear it in the groan that rumbles in his chest. 

“Oh, is it getting worse?” You play an aloof demeanour, reaching to caress the soft ears on his head, making sure to rub on that sensitive spot where his hair is its softest. A soft moan escapes Valko’s lips as his golden eyes flutter closed.

“Please…”

“What do you need me to do, my love?” Your lips ghost the shell of his fleshy ear, tongue peeking out to trace the shell. He shudders, head lowering to give you more access, hips rocking towards you so you can feel just what you need to do. 

You don’t want that, though. He has to say it.

“I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

A pained moan rushes right into your ear as he drops a part of his weight on you. Valko doesn’t want to say it but he also wants to say it. It doesn’t make sense. This heated state is driving him insane, and you’re giving him such a clear path to relief. But what he wants is different from what you usually do… will you agree?

With a shaky breath, Valko nuzzles the side of your neck, mustering the will to confess his desire. “You have to tell me no if you can’t do it.”

“I will.” You reassure him, stroking his soft hair. His arms wrap tight around you, grounding himself in your presence as the words unknot themselves to flow out.

“If you’re grossed out—“

“I won’t be grossed out, Val.” You softly say, rubbing circles into his lower back. “Nothing about you grosses me out. I trust you, so you need to trust that I’ll handle whatever you need and that I’ll tell you if I can’t. Outside of cannibalism, I'm not doing that.”

That makes him chuckle. “You’ll tell me the second you’re uncomfortable?”

“The millisecond.”

His next request comes out more sheepishly. “You’ll tell me I’m doing good?”

“I’ll put a poet to shame.”

“Pull my hair?”

“Put a collar on you too if you’re feeling feisty.”

A sigh of relief escapes Valko’s lips. Oh, he loves you. Finally, he pulls his face away from your neck to level your gaze with fresh determination on his face. “I want you to tie me to the chair, and ride the shit outta me.”

Ask and ye shall receive, as you hear them say.

It was easy to put Valko on a chair especially when he's drunk on your kisses, hungrily biting marks into your bare chest and stomach, gripping your hips so tight you’d think he’s terrified that you’ll run. It was easier to get soaked just from watching him strip for you— that, and having his fingers curl so good inside your cunt as he slurped and lapped at your clit.

The only ‘difficult’ part was restraining him to the chair, legs, arms, and torso roped tight, and that’s just because he’s antsy whenever the full moon happens. 

But something about this supermoon has got him more riled up than usual. Why, you ask?

You’ve been bouncing on the man’s cock for two hours. 

You’re not complaining, you love every second of this. Your walls are fluttering around him as he slides in and out of you so easily, caught by you keeping his fat tip inside leaking all that sticky, hot precum before you drop into his lap again and again and again. 

“Val— ooh, fuck!” Your praise has otherwise become mush, slurred moans of his name and whatever adulation could come to mind. Valko doesn’t mind since he isn't doing any better. If anything, he’s lost the need to think.

“S-So good,” His throat is torn from how loud he’s been, his hips jutting into you even with his thick, corded thighs roped down to the chair. His tail is slapping the floor, his fluffy ears are twitching. He can barely move, limbs strapped down and a collar wrapped around his neck at his own request. And he loves it.

He wants to cum so bad. But then he’d end up swelling so much that he’d be stuck for hours, just grinding and grinding and plugging his seed inside instead of feeling you slap down on him with each rise and fall of your full hips. He wouldn’t have your soft breasts bouncing in his face, or feel your hands scratch his undercut and pull his hair, or hear the hiccups in your voice or the ragged moans in his own.

Why make this pleasure so short-lived when he can prolong it? 

His cock is leaking like a faucet, keeping him smooth and wet for you to use him as you please, pulsing with the desire to just release. His sacks are drawn up tight, literally clenching with enough cum to repopulate a country, and yet he still won’t give in.

Valko drags his tongue up your jaw all the way to your cheekbone. “ ‘m I fuckin’ you good?”

“Hah— mhm. Such a good boy.” You ramble into his lips as you kiss him, slipping your tongue inside to taste him as if he isn’t all that you can sense. “So big and thick and hot… so— Valko— so full ‘f you, want you deeper, you’re so good!”

You’re on orgasm number five by now, gripping onto Valko’s strong shoulders for dear life, back arched, tugging his hair like you want to rip his red locks off. It’s the supermoon, you tell yourself, it must be shooting his stamina through the roof.

It fucking has to be if he’s been rutting into you like a bullet train without cumming even once. His girth twitches with every rock of your plush hips, it leaks and weeps inside you every time you squeeze him hard enough to cut off his blood flow. It has to hurt, prolonging his climax for this long.

Valko likes it that way. He likes the hurt. He likes the way his body just responds to you so well, like you’re made for each other. You have to be.

Your knees are starting to ache. Your thighs are burning from the constant bouncing up and down his thick length but the feeling of him dragging through your walls with each vein pressing against your walls is too good. The overwhelming bump of his cockhead kissing your cervix may just tip you over the edge again. The fucking curve of his cock and the angle just lets him reach the sensitive nerves of your g-spot so good every damn time!

You love these fucking supermoons.

“Valko,” You hum, licking his lips then his chin and jaw, your breath heavy as you maintain your pace. Just a few more and you’ll be in pure bliss. But you need him there with you. “I’m close. I’m so close. Hnn, need you— cum with me.”

“You— oh, you sure?” He whimpers, nuzzling you as you lick the tears off his cheeks. “I’ll—“

“Knot me, mhm.” You nod, rubbing your nose into his cheek, inhaling his scent. This man’s frenzied behaviour has been rubbing off on you too much, not that there’s reason to complain. “You’re gonna swell up so fuckin’ thick, yeah?”

He nods. “Gonna plug all that cum in me, keep it warm inside while you grind ’n rut into me?”

“Yeah,” He affirms, his arms pulling against the restraints. Is this what you want? You want him to bond with you to that much of an intimate extent? You must truly love him. “ ’m gonna stay in you the whole night, snug inside. But I like when you ride me.” You can feel him pouting as he pecks your skin. So cute.

“Then you’ll be a good boy, right?” You coo, your hands cupping his face as you press your thumbs on his lower lip. “Cum with me, and stay inside all night.” You fight every urge to give in to the pleasure when he bites your fingers.

You suck his upper lip, letting your moans vibrate into his. “Can you do that for me?”

Valko’s a simple man. You ask for something and he’ll give it to you with a smile. Like he is now, canines bared, tongue lapping at your fingers before he attacks your lips with a bruising, hot kiss. He pulls away just for a second to mutter against your mouth, “I love you.”

“I know, baby.” You huff, smiling into the kiss as you scratch his fluffy ears. Valko’s hips rut up faster and you can feel his cock swell at the base, almost ready to be plugged into you. Oh, he is so going to eat his cum out of you once he’s soft. “Now be good and cum with me.”