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He ignored me and went back to drawing bold lines where the flowers were. He didn’t even color within the lines.

“Do you want me to go?”

Another small shake.

“Then what do you want me to do?”

He pointed at the sofa across from him. “You want me to stay?”

He nodded and flipped the coloring book to reveal two horses this time. He didn’t hesitate but went back to coloring.

“Okay, I’ll stay.” I crossed over to the sofa and sat, watching him. Dinner was inconsequential to what was happening. I lost track of how long I sat there before he glanced up at me. He shifted his gaze shyly, then grabbed the sloth, tucked it under his arm, and returned to his artwork.

I had no idea what this was or what I was doing, but he wanted me there, so I sat and watched over him while he colored. He no longer sucked as hard on the binky as when I’d walked into the room. In fact, he seemed more relaxed doing his activity. He took his time now, trying to color between the lines. And all I did was wait for him to explain.

It was quite the wait, though, and I was getting restless. He scrambled to his feet. His whole demeanor was so timid I made an extra effort to relax so I wouldn’t spook him. Hopefully he would tell me exactly what this all meant.

Ari shuffled over to me, practically naked, and climbed onto my thighs. His legs were smooth and bare, with only the diaper guarding his nakedness below the waist. He looked so small, so vulnerable, I didn’t have the heart to boost him out of my lap. He wiggled around until he was comfortable, then leaned sideways and rested his head on my chest.

Whatever this was, I knew it would never change the way I treated him. The level of trust he placed in me as he snuggled against me tightened my throat. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him into my chest. The binky fell from his lips. He wailed like a wounded animal and tucked his face into my chest. He grabbed a handful of my shirt front, his shoulders shaking violently as he burst into tears, and all I could do was hold this broken boy so I could help him to put himself back together.

Anger and confusion welled up inside me. I wanted to find whoever hurt him and made him so timid. That cry could only come from someone who’d suffered, and I wanted the person responsible to suffer just as badly.

“Shh, it’s okay.” I bounced him on my knees just like I would a baby, and then I said something I’d never called myself before, although he constantly did. “Daddy’s here.”

He let out a tiny gasp and raised his head. His face was so beautiful, even with tears streaming down his cheeks, his eyes red and droplets clinging to his long lashes. I couldn’t stop staring at him, that perfect bow of his mouth, the delicateness of his features. I should look away. I needed to look away, and yet I couldn’t.

His small hand brushed against my jaw, and his breathing deepened. Mine hitched, the room lacking air, my chest tightening.

“Daddy, please.” Ari leaned forward and kissed me, lips feathering lightly over mine. Groaning, he straddled my lap and deepened the kiss. His sweet, hot tongue hit mine, and a shiver ran down my spine. My hands cupped his face of their own accord. I thrust my tongue into his mouth, seeking more, the trembling in his body heightening my senses.

“Ari.” I broke off the kiss and stared at him, torn between wanting to lay him down onto the sofa and protect him from the intensity of the desire growling inside me to take him.

Shit, had Anne been right all this time?

“Kiss me,” he whined.

“I can’t, Ari.” I evaded his lips. “This isn’t right.”

He wouldn’t listen, tugging at my shirt, but I didn’t help him get it off me. He rocked back onto my lap and ripped the tapes from the sides of the diaper.

Don’t look. Don’t look.

“Don’t you want to see, Daddy?” he whispered.

“No, Ari. God, Ari, this can’t happen.”

“But it feels so good.” I closed my eyes, but it didn’t block out his excited breaths. “It’s all pink and hard. Look, Daddy. It got hard for you.”

“Ari, please.”

“Why won’t you look? You don’t think I’m beautiful anymore?” His voice cracked.

As did my heart, and I looked, inhaling sharply. Ari was a vision, slipping his hand up and down his cock, which was perfectly proportionate to the rest of his body, the head slick from precum.

“Yes, Daddy.” His breaths came in short, excited pants. “Feels so good.”

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Ari’s hand working his cock. His still diapered ass rubbed against my thighs restlessly. He threw his head back, his cheeks feverish, neck flushed, and mouth parted. So beautiful. So hot and tempting. I hated being on the periphery watching him orgasm. I wanted to own his climax. To be the one to make him come apart at the seams.


Tags: Gianni Holmes Dark