Page 101 of Hush, Little Baby

With need.

“You want snuggles?” I echo, flicking his nipple.

He nods, shy but certain, the way a toddler asks for a forbidden treat. “Snuggles and… maybe more.”

He is flushed, pupils blown to near-black, mouth wet and wanting. There’s a new tension in his hips, an uncoordinated grind against his diaper that would make me laugh if it weren’t so painfully endearing. My hand cups the side of his face.

“Tell Daddy what you want.”

He squirms, embarrassed. “I want your cuddles and…” He wets his lips. “And your Daddy cock. Please.”

I let the silence stretch, savoring the heat rising off him.

“That’s a big ask for such a little boy,” I eventually purr.

He whines, “Daddy, please…”

It’s not the words that do it—it’s the trembling in his voice, the desperation of it.

I lean forward, bracketing his trembling body with my arms, and the way he cranes his neck, exposing the pale slope of his throat for me, makes my cock pulse against the grey sweatpants I haphazardly threw on after the bath.

My mouth finds his, and he makes the sweetest, most grateful sound, like I’ve given him the world.

He tastes like strawberry toothpaste and kisses back with eager, open-mouthed abandon, lips soft and plush, tongue clumsy and hungry. I pet his hair, cup the back of his head to keep him steady as I bear down on him, deepening the kiss until he’s gasping for air.

“Daddy,” he pants, and the word is a prayer, barely a sound at all.

My hand slides from his cheek to his chest, palm flat, fingers splayed to cover as much of him as possible. He’s so warm here, so alive beneath me. I run my thumb over the delicate swell of his pec, then lower my mouth to follow the same path, biting gingerly at his nipple.

He quivers, hands fluttering up to grab my shoulders and then dropping away, as if he’s so needy he doesn’t know what to do with himself. His knees rise, feet drumming the mattress, legs spread wide in invitation even as he tries to hide his face in my chest.

“Please, Daddy,” he whispers. “Please, please. I need you. I achy down there.”

I lift his chin, and he blinks up at me, eyes glassy, pupils huge. I stroke his hair and call him my good boy, my beautiful baby. The words come out soft, and his breath goes all shaky and shallow, like he can’t hold it in. I could draw this out for hours, but he’s so wound up it would almost be cruel. Instead, I cup the crinkle of his diaper, palming the padded heat beneath. He bucks into my hand and mewls, so I squeeze, hard enough to remind him who’s in charge, then ease off and knead gentle circles up and down the length of him.

“Such a needy baby,” I coo, thumbing the tapes open, the sound of each rip making his thighs twitch. When his diaper falls open, his cock springs free, slick and throbbing.

I take him in hand, and he lets out a long, shameless moan. I want him pliant and wet for me, so I press his legs up, hiking his ankles over one of my shoulders while I spit into my other palm and reach beneath, teasing behind his balls.

He gasps when I circle his hole, and when I push the tip of my finger inside, he flinches, squeaks, then sighs, going boneless.

“That’s it,” I croon, working him open gently. “Daddy’s got you. I’m gonna make it all better.”

His desperate little whimpers are my favorite music.

I carefully slide a second finger inside, feeling him flutter and squeeze down. He whines and claws at my forearm, overwhelmed by sensation.

I never stop telling him how good he’s being, how soft he feels, how perfectly he takes me. His whole body is shuddering, wrung tight as a violin string, and I know he could come just from this—just from my hand and my words in his ear. But I want to give him everything. He deserves it.

I deserve it too.

I shove my sweats down, freeing my cock. Immediately, Charlie’s transfixed, sheer hunger reflecting in his eyes.

I stroke his cheek and rub his lips with my thumb. “You want Daddy to fill you up?” He nods, mouth parted, and doesn’t even try to hide his shudder. “Use your words, baby.”

“I want you,” he says, voice quivering. “I want Daddy’s cock. Please.”

Yeah, this boy is mine. I can barely breathe for how sweet he looks, how soft and open and trusting. I line myself up and push in, slow at first, stretching him with care. He groans and clings to me, thighs quaking, diaper slipping underneath him.