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all night's how i want it

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“C’mere, baby—you can sit on my lap until I’m done workin’.”

Steve barely hears James’ voice, silky and smooth and enough to startle him out of the fog he’s been engulfed in, turns his head to look up at the older man from his spot at his workspace for the day. James didn’t even look up and over at Steve as he spoke, still focused on the papers in front of him and his laptop, and even that has Steve’s gut curling. The casualness of having Steve in his office, the simple command, the confidence oozing from him as he knows very well Steve is going to obey and listen.

It's been like this all day and is something Steve hadn’t predicted in any manner. He hadn’t given any thought to what James would be like in his element, behind that mahogany desk, commanding people in-person and on the phone. Steve had stopped by his office every so often but he had never spent more than half an hour with the older man and they preoccupied themselves with activities that took James’ mind off of work.

Steve should have been doing his homework, should have been focusing on his charcoal piece for one of his art classes, but he found himself watching James through half-lidded eyes from across the room instead. He moved to scraps of paper and pencil, sketching James’ hands and his lips, wishing he could be feeling both of them on his body. He's been trying his hardest to keep his hand moving and sketching, to not make it look like he’s just sitting in James’ office staring from afar and drooling over him, but the latter is what has transpired well into the late afternoon.

James is powerful. Steve has always known Daddy was a very important man but to see him at work, in his space and his element, was devastating. People were afraid of James. Steve wasn’t sure if the older man realized it but the way their voices were meek when they spoke to him, the amount of times they referred to James as “Sir”, and repeated and insisted that they’d get tasks completed made it clear as crystal to Steve that his Daddy was the boss. He was short on the phone, quiet in-person, spoke in something that sounded like Russian at one point.

That did things to Steve. That made him want to put his head down on the table in front of him, made him want to show Daddy his tummy, made him want to hear it harsh in his ear as he stayed cuddled between those warm thighs, also powerful. James will say things under his breath in that language, most of the time when Steve is throwing a fit or being a brat, but it’s never been spoken so fluently and direct. He spoke it to Ms. Romonav when she came in before lunch, used it deathly low on the phone during a few calls, spit it out under his breath after a short meeting. Steve hadn’t been aware that hearing another language spoken could be so arousing but he’s been half-hard all day.

“Saddle up, doll. C’mon,” James snaps in a gentle tone, finally looks up over at Steve and Steve is rising from his chair and floating across the office before James is done commanding him. He isn’t sure how Daddy manages to make his sizeable desk look miniature, but he takes up a delicious amount of space behind it in his chair, powerful in a physical way on top of being powerful in nonphysical ways.

Daddy’s hand reaches out for his hip as he scoots his chair back quickly and efficiently, and Steve is incredibly grateful for James’ initiative as he spins him and pulls him down into his lap. Steve isn’t someone who just fits into someone’s lap. He’s the one that should have people sitting atop his own thighs, but here he is looking much more petite than he truly is. He fits sideways like a little doll, all curled up and compact, and as soon as he can he’s burying his face into the thick column of James’ neck as the older man scoots his chair forward again.

Steve tries his hardest to disguise his deep inhale but he’s sure it isn’t covered up nearly enough as it could be. He also isn’t aware of the mechanics of how James is still working on his computer, typing away with all six-foot  of Steve curled up against him, legs draped over an armrest, but his fingers are back on the keys almost immediately…

Almost as immediately as Steve feels like he turns to fire, one hot flame licking up his back and consuming him.

Daddy feels good. Sitting around the office and watching his boyfriend command said office, an incomprehensible amount of people, this empire he built, was one thing. Sitting in Daddy’s lap as he does this commanding and running and owning is something entirely different, an added level of arousal that has Steve caught off guard. That may have something to do with how distracted he’s been all day, but he cannot be blamed.

James smells almost better than he feels, that warm spicy scent that Steve is convinced at this point is simply how the older man naturally smells. Daddy is warm himself, always so warm, and his neck is as heated as a ray of sunshine under Steve’s lips, against his nose. Steve makes a happy noise, a soft and gentle one, purses his lips at James’ neck, slips the hand that isn’t caught between their bodies against Daddy’s chest. He presses his fingers into the familiar and meaty pec he finds there, slipped under the boss’ suit jacket.

Daddy makes his own happy noise back in return, hums it into the kiss he presses into the top of Steve’s head, fingers still working the keyboard of his computer with ease. Steve suppresses the giggle that wants to bubble out of his chest by biting his bottom lip, just feels like it’s a natural noise for the moment. Once his lips purse and dig into Daddy’s neck the once, he can’t pull them away, makes another coo and kisses another patch of untouched skin.

He’s had his eyes on Daddy all day, hasn’t wanted to bother him or be a nuisance, and now that he finally gets to have some of his attention, it makes Steve realize how achy he is, how hungry he is. And he can’t stop himself.

He curls his lips around the hinge of James’ jaw, paws at his chest is slow languid pulls, won’t reach for a nipple just yet; he knows that might be going too far in a setting such as this. Feeling James’ skin under his mouth, his lips, makes his gut clench, his dick stir, makes him immediately feel like he’s going to be a brat and make decisions that push the envelope. He is quick to scold himself, knows he should be on his best behavior for James, absolutely drunk off the Daddy energy he’s consumed all goddamn day.

That doesn’t stop him from slipping his hands up to cup the hard edge of James’ jaw, opposite his lips.

“What’ya doin’, kitten?” Daddy asks with a somewhat playful edge to his voice, one that Steve is able to detect even if others are not. It makes Steve feel special, makes a grin tug at the corners of his lips right into the open-mouthed kiss he presses into Daddy’s strong jaw. He drags his tongue along the salty skin of that sharp edge, lets out a giggle as the stubble of James’ skin tickles his tongue. It’s timed perfectly with his purr of, “Nothin’, Daddy.”

Steve is able to feel the noise James gives him in response more than he can hear it, vibration under his lips, and Steve chases it, glides his lips down the underside of James’ jaw as far as he can reach. Daddy’s lips are on his temple when he mumbles, “Sure doesn’t feel like nothin’. Want you to be good for me, doll, just a few more emails and we can get outta here.” At the mention of leaving the office and being a good boy Steve is nodding his head for some reason, is pressing and curling his body in tight against James’.

“Wanna be good, Daddy,” Steve murmurs, feels a little sleepy, a little extra sweet, and James is quick with his reassurance, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk as he does so.

“Always good, sugar, always good for Daddy.”

Steve isn’t. He knows his adjustment to this new kind of relationship has been a rocky one. They both know he’s a brat with a large independent streak, that James is one of the only people on the face of the Earth that could take that in stride and embrace it. It’s made them stronger though, working through these bumps in their road has made Steve appreciate James even more because of his show of devotion.

“Why don’t we pass the time with somethin’,” James starts to suggest, voice a combination of casual and distracted. Steve isn’t prepared in the slightest when James follows up with, “Why don’t you tell me how you want Daddy to take you apart when we get home…”

Steve’s brain stutters around like a newborn fawn, but his throat constricts around a noise like he understands what James has said in full. He’s already curled into James’ form quite tightly, but he somehow manages to tuck in closer, does so with another one of those whines. He’s more than half-hard almost immediately, is embarrassed and always a bit fired up that James can have such hold on him. His third noise, (maybe it’s one long continuous one), is muffled by his Daddy’s skin, hot under his lips.

“What…what I—”

“Aww come on, sweetness; been watchin’ you sneak peaks’a me all day. Don’t play shy. You’ve been so good all day. I wanna treat you right, show you how much I appreciate you bein’ so sweet for me,” Steve feels lips at the top of his head, “Tell Daddy what you want.”

It’s not that James giving Steve a free-for-all is rare, it’s the timing. He’s sat here for hours stewing and watching his Daddy control and demand, the entire goddamn day, and now his Daddy is turning to him and is ready to serve. He controls this room, this floor, this company and he’s asking Steve how he can make him feel good. The competency makes Steve’s head woozy, makes different parts of his body wiggle simultaneously, and for one long moment Steve feels like the most important person in New York City.

James continues to work, is reading over some sort of paper in his left hand while his right hand hovers over his laptops’ mousepad. It’s casual, so casual, the tone of voice and the kiss on the head and the way James half ignores Steve; it leaves him panting.

“Daddy, I…god I—” he doesn’t even come to his own defense, doesn’t even try and pretend he wasn’t indeed thirsting from across the room for hours—“I want…w-want you to fuck me, wanna feel you inside of me.” His voice comes from the back of his throat, no way to avoid how desperate he sounds and so quickly. James chuckles.

“Oh, honey so easy. You’re not even gonna make me work for it? Gonna give that little hole right up and over to me just like that?”

Steve nips that James’ neck. It’s an action he immediately gives himself over to, one that is backed by quick reaction and defense on his part. He likes to think he isn’t easy, isn’t a slut for another person, but this is also something he doesn’t need put up much of a fight against; they both know the truth. James takes Steve’s bite in stride, all in good nature, his chuckle deepening into a purr as his fingers start to dance across his keyboard.

“You don’t want Daddy’s mouth? Don’t want my fingers? What about havin’ your own mouth full, know you love that.”

Steve’s tongue is quick to kitten lick over the nibbled-at skin, an apology of sorts for having been so eager, a thank you for gifting him with more appealing thoughts. He can barely help himself. He shimmies in his seat, wants to move and adjust to straddle James but doesn’t want to prolong their time remaining in the office by being a bother. He huffs.

“Would want a k-kiss,” he mumbles.

“Can always get a kiss, Steve.” James is quick to respond, quick to pull a few fingers up to Steve’s chin, to tip it. The kiss is chaste and warm, just like the other few brief kisses he’s gotten today, and it leaves Steve wanting more all the same. It’s a tad more open-mouthed than the others, a little more wet, and when James pulls away and begins typing away at his keyboard again, Steve mewls. He knows what James is doing, knows that he’s playing up a newfound desire that they’re exploring more and more since Steve admitted he kind of likes it when Daddy ignores him, makes him wait, is a little mean.

It doesn’t make accepting this any easier, especially given Steve’s current state.

He grabs for James’ jaw, presses small little kisses accompanied with equally small noises into stubbly skin, wiggles a little too much. He’s groveling, he knows it, but he enjoys it, enjoys what is playing out in front of them as James continues to ignore Steve’s predicament and focuses his attention elsewhere. Steve makes a noise like Daddy has kicked his puppy, one he’s sure James will react too, but he should know better, should know that his willpower is damn near unwavering.

After a few more beats of silence, whimpers subsiding, Steve sighs and tips his head back into James’ shoulder, his cheek pressing against tightly compacted muscle.

“Wanna suck on Daddy’s cock,” is what he husks out as if their conversation hadn’t been delayed. He chooses his words carefully, needs to regain some slipped footing. He can play this game just as well as Daddy, but he isn’t sure how well he’ll turnout given the volume his dick seems to be speaking at.

“Yeah? How do you wanna get your mouth on me?”

Steve’s answer is immediate.

“Want you to use it as a hole.”

“Mmm, a slutty one?” James asks, pushing papers into a folder and tossing it in front of him, and Steve grins.

“Mhmm, yeah. A wet one, a sloppy one. Wanna be on my knees, pressed up against the bed behind me. Want you holding my face and tipping it back, watching.”  Steve gets a reaction out of that one, a deep exhale and a hand coming down to squeeze at his waist, and follow-up question of, “You like it when I watch?” Steve’s exhale goes a bit breathy as well.

“Love when you watch yourself fuck me; you know that.”

“Such a dirty boy,” James purrs into Steve’s temple as he opens up another email. Steve scowls at it.

“What about after that, huh? After your mouth is all messy and you look extra pretty?”

It’s an oddly positive backhanded compliment that makes Steve’s cheeks turn a bit warm. He’s sad they aren’t talking about James fucking his mouth anymore, but he’s smitten with Daddy thinking he looks handsome when his lips are cherry red and his chin is covered in spit. Steve’s dick throbs at the image it conjures up in his mind almost immediately.

“It’s your turn,” he responds coyly, lips pursing against James’ neck in the exact kiss he wants Daddy to give his cunt.

“My turn?”

Steve purses his lips again, slips his tongue through the kiss.

“Want your mouth then,” he murmurs, “want your mouth on my hole, Daddy.”

James makes his deepest noise yet, turns his head and surprises Steve with another hot kiss on the Steve’s parted lips before turning back to his work, picking up a pen. Steve wants more.

“Mmm, that’s what Daddy wants. How’s he gonna eat you out, huh?”

Steve stops and considers his answer to this question, bites his lip.

“Wanna be on my back.”

“Why’s that?”

James knows the answer, but Steve indulges them both anyway.

“Like when you touch me all over, like to feel your hands on me and…like to watch.” Steve isn’t ashamed but saying the words out loud has him hesitating and stuttering. A hand is on his thigh then, a hard pull that has his core clenching up in response and then a, “We both like to watch don’t we, kitten?”

“Mhmm yes, Daddy.”

They love watching. There’s nothing that makes Steve’s brain fuzzier than when Daddy’s head is between his legs, mouth working up somethin’ sweet, tongue like silk on his cunt. Being able to put a hand in James’ hair, being able to encourage his Daddy with sweet breathy filth, being able to watch as James’ mouth moves on him—Steve loves it. There’s nothing he loves more though, than watching Daddy’s cock slip in and out of his little hole. He loves to watch the stretch and the drag at the same time as he feels it, loves when Daddy pushes his legs up and back to his chest, tells him to sit up and watch.

Don’t even get Steve started on the few times they’ve filmed themselves fucking, of watching himself get fucked by his Daddy on a screen.

Steve only sees two more emails open on Daddy’s computer and excitement stirs in his stomach at the thought of getting to leave, his dick straining against the denim of his jeans.

“Daddy’s gonna take his time with you tonight, baby. Gonna make you a mess, gonna make you beg for it just like you like,” James murmurs, his fingers not hesitating or stalling as they fly across the keyboard. His voice is so casual, his mind obviously somewhere else, and it makes Steve moan. He wants to beg for it now, would if Daddy told him to, would without prompting.

“How do you want Daddy to fuck you after he’s done getting you all open and ready with his fingers?” James asks and the question makes Steve’s moan carry on for another few seconds, makes him turn into James’ chest more. Daddy skipped fingering altogether, went straight to the main event, and Steve eats up the small sign that this conversation is affecting the older man as well. This answer is also immediate.

“Wanna be on my belly, on my front.”

“Oh, just want to be used all over, don’t ya? Want it all like a greedy boy?”

Normally Steve would throw a fit, would whine back that he wasn’t greedy, but he is today. He paws at James’ neck, opens his own mouth along the hinge of Daddy’s jaw and whimpers out a pitiful yet enthusiastic, “Mhmm!” James purrs in agreement, in acknowledgment, and when Steve sees him exit out of the window open on his computer, he moans a bit frantically.

“So hungry, I know gonna fuck you silly tonight. You been sitting here all day watching Daddy work and you want him to go home and put in more work on you like you’re a princess?”

Steve loves being a princess for Daddy. He moves then, can’t help it and knows James’ to-do list is finally complete. He whines wiggles his way right around to where his thighs slip over Daddy’s ones with ease. James lets him but keeps his eyes on his computer as Steve kisses at his cheek and rolls his hips. It’s deliciously degrading.

“You love when I’m a princess for you,” Steve whispers hotly into Daddy’s ear like it’s a secret, doesn’t stop himself from moaning a bit high and feminine like he knows James likes. He paints the picture perfectly of groveling, curls his body firmly around Daddy’s, hand on his neck and in his hair, mouth at James’ ear, his neck. James continues on working.

“’Course I do, love when you’re sweet for me. You gonna take what Daddy gives you like a good boy, the best boy?”

Steve moans into James’ temple, hips pulsing in little broken movements, dick all achy and angry between his thighs. There’s just enough friction that makes Steve want more, that has him trying to dig his knees into James’ chair more aggressively, all spread around that thick waist.

“Gonna take it so good for you, Daddy. Want…oh want you to make me take it.” Steve’s brain is a bit foggy, much more focused on the growing bulge in James’ dress pants instead of his own words.

“Want me to make you take it?” Daddy repeats in the form of a question and Steve nods his head, gasps when he feels a burly arm encircle his waist.

“Yeah yeah, wan’you to make me take it. Hold me down, hold me tight, give it to me good,” Steve explains, is damn near panting at this point, and at hearing his words James’ arm goes even tighter around his waist. Steve barely connects the dots, barely realizes that Daddy is giving him just what he wants right here and right now. Steve rolls his body the way he would if Daddy had him stuffed full and fucking himself in Daddy’s lap, and when Steve cups James’ face this time, Daddy tilts it up.

“I always give it to you good, doll,” James purrs into Steve’s mouth. It’s isn’t a question, is not anything that Daddy needs an answer to, and the confidence punches Steve directly in the dick. All Steve can do is groan in response, pours the noise right onto Daddy’s mouth before licking into it. Part of being ignored for a period of time is this moment, this partial payoff of finally having Daddy’s attention after so long. There’s another arm running up his back and a hand cupping his neck, the older man’s tongue gliding against his own, and when Steve pulls back he finally gets eye contact.

“Always give it to me good, Daddy,” he murmurs in confirmation and James’ mouth ticks up at the corner in a smirk. He isn’t even breathing hard, the bastard, but Steve is a heaping lump of hot mess in James’ lap. The hand on his neck gives it a good squeeze before there are two hands gripping his hips almost painfully tight, fingers digging into his skin. It’s perfect.

“Might give it to you good, but you take it like you were meant for me. Nothin’ prettier than my Stevie baby givin’ me all sorts of sweet noises, eyes fightin’ to stay open as he takes my cock like a champ.”

Steve sobs. His body’s response is immediate: his dick twitches, his hole clenches, his breath gets caught in his throat. It makes his hips roll down tighter, harder, makes him fight in Daddy’s grip for prolonged attention to his dick.

“You’re wound awful tight, honey. S’Daddy gonna need to fuck more than one outta you tonight?”

Steve’s inhale is shaky, his own fingers digging into James’ jaw as he ensures Daddy’s head stays tipped up so he can press little kisses into the corner of his favorite pair of lips. He wants Daddy to give him three, four, five orgasms, wants an unrealistic amount of pleasure at the older man’s hand. Steve’s response isn’t in the form of words but more along the lines of garbled noises, a roll of his hips.

“You been squirmin’ in that chair all day, haven’t you? Watchin’ Daddy work and be the boss has made you more than a little hot? Make you feel a little special, Stevie?”

And there it is, spoken without reservation for the two of them to hear it and address it in full. Steve’s hips stutter, his fingers slip back into chestnut hair, and two set of lips brush as he responds with a few frantic head nods. He tries to ensure words come with the head nods, but his tongue is far too heavy to produce words. James’ eyes sparkle a bit mischievously as his smirk widens and Steve chases the movement with his tongue.

“I know, know you turn into a hot little thing when your see your Daddy bein’ the boss. Love it, baby I love it. Love when you get cock-drunk like an easy whore without me doin’ anything at all. Makes me feel like a good Daddy.”

Steve is drowning. He’s full-on humping himself silly in James’ lap, erections rolling beautifully against one another. His mind swims with heady thoughts of the Daddy Energy dripping from James, how Steve swears he’s wet with it, consumed by it. His breaths are heavy but Daddy drinks them right up, palms skating down to rub and squeeze at the meat of Steve’s ass.


James knows, always knows, gives Steve a few slippery wet kisses before murmuring, “Let’s get outta here, babydoll.”

Steve wants to rub himself off right here in Daddy’s lap, but he’s a good boy. This is what he gets for being a good boy, his Daddy taking him apart in the exact way Steve has requested. He gets everything he wants for being sweet and listening to his Daddy all day. He needs to remember this feeling and this moment in the future. If he scurries off of James’ lap adjusting himself as he gathers his things a little too quickly ad leaves something behind, that’s okay.

It gives him an excuse to stop by his Daddy’s office again in the near future.