“Have you asked Daddy what you’re gonna make tomorrow at the festival?” Camden asked.
“No.” I bit into a piece of garlic bread. “I was going to, mainly because my brother’s curious, but then I figured, I’m already hoping to sleep with the teacher…”
Camden snickered. “I know what you’ll be making.”
“I’m sure I’ll fail spectacularly,” I drawled.
I’d had to sign a waiver because a film crew was going to be there, and they’d make highlights of the festival available for streaming on the festival’s website. August King’s class was definitely one of the highlights.
“Will you be there tomorrow?” I asked in return. I wasn’t sure, because they’d indicated that previous plans had been changed.
He yawned and shook his head against his pillow. “Nuh-uh. When you showed up early today, I knew right away that you and Daddy would have the best chemistry in the galaxy, so I thought it was pointless to come out of one regressive period just to show up at the festival, only to regress again when we start playing.”
The best chemistry in the galaxy, huh?
“You never leave the house when you’re in your Little mode?” I wondered.
He squinted at the ceiling and scratched his stomach. “Sometimes? It depends how little I feel. I don’t wanna risk running into anyone we know—and the festival will be packed with Daddy’s followers.”
That made sense, I supposed. I already knew August would be busy signing books for an hour or two after the class. Over the years, he’d published three cookbooks and one book about his culinary journey through South America.
I’d read neither of them. I was a bad fan.
“Well, I’ll miss you tomorrow.” I splayed my hand over his tummy and shook him playfully, to which he groaned through his giggles about how full he was. “Once we’re done, I’m just gonna walk around and eat till I get sick.”
Camden grinned sleepily and cuddled closer to hug my thigh. “Can you bring me back some treats?”
“Of course, ragazzo.” I shoveled some food into my mouth before I wove my fingers through his hair. “I’ll give you my number in case you wanna call.”
He hummed with pleasure, eyes drooping.
All in all, we must’ve watched ten minutes of the movie that was muted but playing in the background.
“I love our chemistry too, Sir,” he mumbled. “You’re like a Daddy.”
I smiled to myself and scratched his scalp gently. He didn’t know what those words did to me. Hell, I barely knew myself, other than I had all this warmth spreading in my chest.
It made me wanna bring him tomorrow—somehow. Maybe after the cooking class was over. The festival was going to be massive. Was there no way to… I lifted my gaze and scanned the room; I’d seen something earlier, and it was right there on the top shelf. Halloween masks of the collector’s variety. Darth Vader, a stormtrooper, Iron Man, Deadpool…
It was probably a dumb idea.
“We should get some rest,” I murmured drowsily.
We’d been dozing on and off for the past hour or two, the long and eventful day having caught up with me, but it was extremely difficult to fall asleep when curious fingers wandered my body. Not that I could claim innocence. Having Camden snuggled up in my arms under the covers was the sweetest torture.
“I’m resting,” he insisted. “My eyes are closed.”
Yeah, but both his hands were on my cock.
“What’re you thinkin’ about?” I asked.
His answer was so matter-of-fact. “Play-raping you in your sleep.”
“Jesus Christ.” I shouldn’t have asked.
“It could work if Daddy held you down once you woke up,” he reasoned. “Maybe he would stuff his big thing in your mouth to keep you quiet.”
A shudder ripped through me, but the scenario posed a problem because I couldn’t imagine ever struggling against such an act. Even pretending not to want it would feel too contrived.
Unable to help myself, I slipped a hand down to his bottom and brushed my fingers between his butt cheeks. “I happen to like being woken up by someone who just takes what he wants.”
He drew an unsteady breath. “Me too. That’s why I like the safewords, cuz anything goes until someone safewords. It’s always playtime that way. I-I could be preparing something in the kitchen, and Daddy just walks by and throws me down on the floor and fucks me because Daddy needs his baby boy right then and there. You know?”
I buried my face in the crook of his neck and wanted to scream out my frustrations. My body was suddenly a live wire, tense and ready to attack. I didn’t know what I craved more, for this aggressive little puppy to come at me and take what he wanted from me, or for me to fuck him into the mattress until he came on the sheets and had my come dripping out of his little asshole.
And it was a tight little asshole. I circled my middle finger around his smooth opening and dipped the fingertip inside.
He trembled and stroked my cock harder.
“Does Daddy let you play-rape him too?” I asked huskily.
“Sometimes.” His soft voice was shaky and brimming with need. “Rape is a stretch. He humors me sometimes, lets me fuck him when he’s resting on his stomach—or he pretends to sleep.” He swallowed hard and peered down between us, in the darkness under the duvet, and he tugged at himself. “He says it’s okay because he can’t feel much anyway, because my thing is little and cute. He’s not super-much into bottoming otherwise.”
I couldn’t handle another fucking word out of his filthy mouth.
“I think that’s enough, Camden.” I barely recognized my own voice. It was too dark, too gravelly. “All I wanna do is flip you over and fuck you into next week.”
“But, ohhhh,” he whined. “Can’t we, please? Just a little bit?”
I shook my head
