Golden boy, p.1
Golden Boy, page 1
Golden Boy
A TWISTED SPICY MM FAIRYTALE
E. DAVIES
Copyright © 2023 by E. Davies
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations in a book review.
Amazon Kindle Edition.
Contents
About This Book
Author’s Note
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Thanks for reading!
About the Author
Also by E. Davies
About This Book
I asked Santa for one Daddy. He gave me three. And I fell asleep in their bed…
I’m Golden, and I love staring through strangers’ windows every Christmas… but not in a weird way. I’ve just always wanted the peace and joy I see. Somewhere to belong, and someone to belong to.
Then I met the three Behrs. These Daddies share everything—including their life and bed—but they almost forgot to look out for the perfect boy, too. It’s a good thing I’m on the job. Okay, it’s getting a little weird, but then again… so am I.
Will I finally get showered with the warmest season’s greetings? Or will the brewing storm leave me out in the cold?
Golden Boy is an MMMM romance. This spicy fairytale adaptation is set in a contemporary world. To learn more about the twist in this book, please take a look at the author's note before you dive in!
Author’s Note
This MMMM romance features three Daddies and one very good boy (no age play). There’s some mild dirty talk, exciting dirty activities, and watersports (no degradation or drinking)… the kind that can still happen when the lake’s frozen. And, of course, every Twisted fairytale ends in a happily-ever-after!
Prologue
GOLDEN
“N-Nice weather, huh?”
I fumble to unzip my jacket as the stranger closes his front door with a solid thud. My fingertips are still numb from the cold outside, but my cheeks are burning under his gaze.
I finally gave in and downloaded Grindr last night. In rural Minnesota, slim pickings beat no pickings. This guy was the first one to message me, and he’s spent all day toying with me, making me admit all of my secret fantasies. Then he called me a good boy and told me to come to this address at seven PM sharp.
I’m already glad I followed his orders.
He’s exactly like his bathroom mirror selfie: six feet tall and broad-shouldered. He’s around forty, with hints of salt-and-pepper gray in his hair. And sure, he’s handsome enough. But what really drew me to his profile was the energy he’s giving off right now.
Calm. Confident. In control.
This is a man who knows what he wants—and what I want, better than I do—and how to make it happen.
My heart is threatening to leap right out of my throat with anticipation. Despite myself, I’m still chattering to fill the silence. “Kinda cold, though. But at least it’s not snowing yet—”
“You didn’t come here to talk about the weather,” he cuts me off firmly. Here in the Midwest, we’d call that rude… but he doesn’t sound like he’s trying to be mean. It’s still enough to shock me into silence as he locks the door and turns to face me. “Did you?”
I stop fumbling with the zipper, my shoulders sinking. I feel the weight of his gaze grounding me until I almost forget the chaotic mess of energy and anticipation I brought to his doorstep.
“N-No,” I whisper, but I hesitate and trail off. He raises an eyebrow and folds his arms, but my tongue is frozen in my mouth.
I don’t know if I can bring myself to finish the sentence.
No, Daddy.
If I say it, I’ll make it real. Here on the verge of discovering the parts of myself that I’ve tried to ignore, I’m suddenly realizing that there’s no going back once I’ve started this.
But I think it’s too late. I want to give in to my fantasies—and to the men who make them come true. I just can’t stop making small talk. What I need is someone to take over…
Oh. Of course.
I need a Daddy.
Just for today, of course. But naming this stranger for what he is to me today also means putting voice to my own desires… truly owing them for the first time.
Can I do that?
He still says nothing. His gaze sweeps up and down my body, making me feel naked despite my half-zipped puffer jacket.
I’ve been fighting back a boner for the whole drive, but there’s no stopping or hiding my body’s reactions now. One look makes my cock swell, and now I’m throbbing hard in my jeans.
He’s not even trying to be subtle about studying my growing hard-on, a faint smirk dancing around the corner of his lips.
That expression—and my body’s reaction, the surge of heat in my belly—melts away my skittishness. I lick my lips and nod, swallowing despite my still-dry throat.
“Yes, Daddy.”
I expected him to smile or praise me, but he isn’t.
He’s grabbing me by the hair, dragging me down the hallway to the bathroom.
As the shock gives way to white-hot pain across my scalp, I yelp. “Ow! Ow, ow, ow!” I can’t stop myself from scrabbling at his hands, but he doesn’t let go, forcing me to stumble along with him.
Any illusions of control have been shattered.
By the time we get to the bathroom, my chest aches. It’s almost infuriating how fucking hot this is when we can both feel how empty it is, too.
This isn’t an internet tab I can close or a fantasy I can forget after I blow my load. This is a real, living, breathing Daddy. He can see every blush, hear every moan… feel every tremble of arousal.
I can’t lie to myself when my fantasy is staring back at me and he can see exactly how much it turns me on.
“Behave,” he instructs me firmly, letting go of my hair.
I’m blinking away the stars in my eyes as he pulls my T-shirt over my head. I keep my hands on the back of my head, letting him pop open the button on my jeans and slide down the zipper.
I’m barely able to register my surroundings: pale green bathroom tiles, some shadowbox picture frame with sea shells, coordinated blue soap dispensers on the sink. Instead, I sway into him and close my eyes, giving in to the feeling of strong hands tugging against clothing.
When I open them again, he’s crouching by my feet to get the last of my clothes off.
I’m totally naked, so fucking hard that my cock is almost flat against my stomach.
Daddy stands up again, grabs my hips. “Step back,” he orders, locking gazes with me.
It’s happening.
I have to trust him to steer me… in more ways than one.
I clutch the back of my head, clumsily raising a foot to clear the tub edge. Now the other foot.
What now?
As I raise my gaze to stare at the Daddy, he lets go of my waist and folds his arms again. “Good. Now… get down on your knees.”
My jaw drops.
This is definitely a test, but I can’t help staring at him, frozen with surprise. Are we skipping right to it? Is he actually going to…?
Right now?
“Now, boy.”
He didn’t even raise his voice, but pure instinct drives me to my knees. “Yes, Daddy,” I whisper.
My toes curling with frantic excitement. From this close, I can see his crotch—and the hard line of his cock against his own jeans. I’m a bundle of nerves and horniness. I’m so close to finally living out this fantasy for the first time, and nothing he does now could really calm me down.
Daddy smiles briefly. “Good boy,” he says. “You’ll make a great slut, won’t you?”
“Y-Yes,” I squeak as he reaches for my face. I flinch, but he’s just casually shoving my hair out of my eyes. He rakes it back under my hands until I’m holding it all out of my face. “I’ll be a great slut,” I promise breathlessly.
Anything to keep his other hand moving as he unzips himself, reaching through the fly.
Then, just inches away from my lips, he pulls out his dick. The sight is making my mouth water: thick enough to wrap all his fingers around, flushed red, with a rounded mushroom head.
But he’s not fully at attention yet. Phew.
I’m transfixed by the sight of his fingers sliding to the tip and back to the base. He strokes himself slowly, spreading his feet to brace himself in front of me.
Oh my god, it’s about to happen.
“There’s only one kind of weather you came here for.”
I don’t know if he meant it as a joke, but I can’t even giggle. I’m transfixed and trembling, my eyes glued to the tip of his perfect, thick cock. He rests his other hand on the inside of his leg, his thumb and forefinger framing the base.
Come on come on come on...!
I can barely breathe, I’m so taut with anticipation.
“Beg me,” he orders.
& nbsp; Oh, fuck. “Please,” I gasp.
I want so badly to reach for myself, wrap a hand around my cock and start jerking it. But I don’t think I’m allowed yet…
“Please, what?”
I whimper and close my eyes, tilting my head back. “Please use me,” I gasp, too desperate to even think about what I’m saying. “Please, Daddy!”
“That’s right. You just want to be used.” His voice is thick and rough, like he’s fighting through the last of his own resistance. “Marked. Owned.”
My cock jumps against my stomach, and I tremble with the self-control it takes not to reach down right now…
“Please,” I gasp, my eyes flying open again.
One burst of heat across my chest follows another. Then it turns into a steady stream, trickling right down to my aching hard arousal, and I can’t stop myself any longer. I reach down and grab my cock, jerking it hard and fast.
Daddy doesn’t stop me. He just groans, leaning back and relaxing into it... but he never stops watching me.
“Oh, fuck,” I moan. I feel filthy—a thousand times better than I ever dreamed I would.
This stranger is jerking himself off right in front of my eyes. He’s fully hard now, but another spray hits my chest every few strokes, sending another burst of lightning-sharp pleasure straight to my core.
I’m clenching up… every muscle is taut… oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, I’m going to come so fast!
My desperate whimper is met by a grunt, a few last droplets flicking across my shoulders. Daddy groans and fucks his hips forward into his hand, slamming his cock through the ring of his fingers, getting closer until he’s right in front of my face…
“Yes,” he growls.
“Please,” I whimper, jerking myself as fast as I possibly can. The edge is flying closer. I can’t help myself, can’t stop it, can barely hold back… “I’m yours, Daddy. Claim me!”
“Fuck…!”
His cock jumps in his hand, and I whimper in delight as he grabs the back of my head. I tip my face back and open my mouth, peeking through my lashes at his final few desperate thrusts.
And then he lets go with a long, low groan of ecstasy.
He’s marking me, all right, aiming every drop right at my face. When some of it lands on my tongue, I make a soft sound at the strange bitter taste, but I don’t flinch away.
I want it all. Everything Daddy has for me—it’s all mine.
“Nnnh!” I gasp. The world is narrowing, and I really can’t stop it anymore. “I’m… I’m almost…!”
“That’s right, boy,” Daddy says firmly. “Give in. Show Daddy how much you like it.”
“Yes!” I throw my head back as I buck into my own hand.
The blackness takes me, and it’s not going to let me go. Wave after wave of it, shaking me from head to toe, lighting up my very bones from the inside out… it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
I’m finally blinking, sluggishly coming back to life.
God knows how long I spent squirming on my knees against the hard, cold tub, but it was worth every second and then some.
“Shower head there,” the stranger tells me, and I find it and rinse myself off. He hands me a towel afterward and asks if I want a glass of water, but my head is a million miles away.
“No,” I mumble as he leaves me to towel off and get dressed, trying to sort through the fog in my head.
It wasn’t a bad sexual encounter. Not in the slightest. I’m almost giddy from it still. What I want is exactly what I just got… but with something more, too.
Affection.
That ache in my chest lingers as I get dressed and see myself out the door, through the cold, to my still-warm car.
I’ve had plenty of intimacy that never came close to scratching the itch of my hidden desires. And now that I’ve indulged those desires, I don’t think I can keep that part of me locked away any longer.
But I don’t know if I can get both at once—here, or ever.
I thought coming here today and doing this for the first time would scare me, but that part turned out to be… surprisingly easy. The best I’ve ever had, actually. What’s rattled me is another thought—one that just won’t go away.
What if this is the best it gets?
Chapter One
GOLDEN
“You know, Goldie… we don’t have to decorate on December first. Just this year, we could do it on December second.”
“Do my bunny ears deceive me?” I gasp, dramatically clutching a fistful of tinsel to my chest.
My festive headband wobbles dangerously as I turn to stare at my roommate, so I jam it into my golden curls again. The damn thing’s always trying to fall off, but what else could I expect from a pair of giant, floppy bunny ears wrapped up in LED Christmas lights?
Needless to say, I got it from the clearance section of the dollar store. People groan about it every year, but I think it gives me an air of authority.
With this thing on, I can truly take charge of Christmas.
“What?” Ellie protests. My roommate is kneeling on the other side of the living room—and a minefield of baubles between us. She’s clutching a now-empty mug of eggnog like it’s her only defense.
“Did you just suggest playing hooky from Christmas? Risking—” I dramatically toss aside the tinsel I’m holding, and it flutters slowly to the floor, “—the wrath of Santa?”
“No!” Ellie protests, rolling her head back against the seat of the couch. “Santa will understand if we wait ’til tomorrow, that’s all.”
I shake my head solemnly and tip back my head to chug the rest of my eggnog, then sigh. “Ahhh. Okay. So, Christmas hooky is only forgivable in extenuating circumstances.”
“You were working ’til nine today. And I’ve spent the whole day on my feet!”
“I hear you,” I grimace.
The coffee shop was slammed today, and our customers were even more stressed than usual. This time of year, a lot of people aren’t embracing the real spirit of Christmas.
“But on the other hand…” I lean into the kitchen, pulling out the rum bottle from the bottom cupboard. “I don’t think we have the right eggnog to make such a momentous decision.”
Ellie sits up straight, a grin spreading over her face. “Okay, fine. You’ve got my attention.”
“I knew it!” I triumphantly pump my fist. “Here, I’ll come get your mug.”
She holds it out as far as possible, while I bravely risk life and limb to get there and back. After I refill both the mugs, I set them down to spike them with the all-important rum.
“There,” I tell her as I pour a splash of rum into the mug. She’s looking at me with raised eyebrows, so I add another. “There?” Still the same look. I tip the bottle once more. “Okay, tell me when—”
“Okay, that’s good. I do have to go to work tomorrow. You know, after Santa’s most demented helper finally lets me go to bed.”
“Awww. Thanks.” I grin proudly as she snorts with laughter. “But there’s one more thing.”
Ellie groans. “What?”
I nudge the closest bauble with my toes, and it bumps into the next, setting off a little chain reaction as they roll treacherously across the floor. “If you wanna get your eggnog delivery, you’ll have to finish sorting these by color. Or else, I dunno, cross your fingers for a passing cargo sleigh?”
Ellie laughs and flips me off. “Sneaky little fucker. I can’t believe you’re talking me into this.”
“I know,” I wink at her. “But that’s how it starts. One thing leads to another, and before you know it, it’s three days to Christmas and the tree is still naked.”
“Oh my god. Only you, Goldie,” Ellie laughs, scooping an armful of blue baubles into a cardboard box.
