Page 105 of My Family

"We're covered in pizza grease and sweat," he murmurs, working a knot in my neck.

"Speak for yourself, Daddy. I'm mostly cheese."

He digs into the knot harder, making me groan, and then he's laughing, his mouth at my ear, warm breath skimming my skin.

"You want a shower?" he asks.

I shake my head, then regret it because the movement sends pain flaring through my cheekbone.

"I want to die here, on this bed, and have them bury me in it."

He keeps massaging, but now he's not pretending it's about my back anymore. His hands slide under my shirt, nails grazing my sides. I squirm. I can feel myself getting hard already.

"Daaaaddy," I mumble.

He knows.

He's got me pegged, in every sense of the word.

His hands go to my waist, fingers catching in the waistband of my shorts. He drags them down slowly, then stops halfway and tugs my shirt up instead, exposing my back and the tattoo just under my left shoulder blade.

He traces it with a fingertip.

"I love this," he says. "It's so you."

I snort into the pillow. "It's a dumb butterfly."

"It's a moth," he corrects. "You always minimize things about yourself."

I roll over, and now he's straddling my thighs, his hands braced on either side of my head, looking down at me with those green eyes like he's about to devour me.

He pins my wrists to the bed, his hands dwarfing mine. My breath stutters. He leans down and kisses me, tongue pushing into my mouth like he owns it, and he does. He owns all of me.

I can't move.

Don't want to move.

His weight is perfect, just enough to remind me how strong he is, how easy it would be for him to do anything he wants with me.

I buck my hips, desperate for friction. He grinds down, our cocks rubbing through layers of fabric, and I whine because I can't help myself. Fuck, he always turns me into this horny mess, and my mouth actually waters.

"Shh," he says, breaking the kiss, lips brushing my ear. "Walls are thin."

"Like you care," I say.

He laughs. "You want Jack to hear?"

"I want you to make me scream."

He presses his mouth to my jaw, biting just below my ear. "Not a chance. You'll be quiet like a good boy for Daddy."

He keeps my wrists pinned with one hand and slides the other down, sneaking under the elastic of my underwear, palming me.

My brain short-circuits.

"Already hard?" he teases. "God, you're such an easy thing."

"Maybe you're just really hot," I gasp.