Page 21 of The Family Pet

“Duh.” I shook my head and stared up at the intricate patterns carved into the ceiling. One part of it was an endless circle, and even though I was lying down, I got dizzy, so I had to close my eyes. “That’s Dad. Controlling.”

“Am I?” Dad’s deep tone cut through the quietness of the kitchen, and I smiled, not in the least surprised he was listening. Somewhere the microphone from the camera buzzed to signal he was going to talk again. “I thought you would set a good example for our pup, Ridge, not teach him to rebel against my orders. He doesn’t need any new bad habits.”

I grinned up at the hidden camera in the corner of the ceiling and flashed him my middle finger. “How’s that for teaching him a thing or two, Dad?”

Saint let out a loud breath and moved quickly, slipping off the chair and onto his hands and knees. I rolled my eyes. Always the pleaser. Why wasn’t I surprised?

I shoved myself onto my ass and raised my eyebrows at him. “Come on, he’s got you acting like a fucking dog. Aren’t you at least going to give him a little ’tude?”

He shook his head and bowed his chin. “Sorry. He’s paying off the Harlots for me. I can’t afford to fuck this up.”

I whistled. “Well, fuck. He neutered you already? And here I thought Saint Godfrey had bigger balls than that.” I shrugged. “Guess I was wrong.”

I attempted to stand and nearly tumbled over. I managed to stay upright, only saved by grabbing the island. I stared up at the camera again. “You’re a fucking terrible father, you know that? Fucking bad.”

“Am I?” Dad’s tone turned bored and that irritated me more than anything.

I snatched one of the stools and threw it as hard as I could up toward the camera. Something smashed, and I didn’t know if it was the camera, but the stool slammed back against the floor, shattering into pieces of broken wood. I glared, then grinned because I was sure I’d destroyed his view of us.

“You’ll be paying for that.” Even though Dad’s voice was tight with restrained anger, he kept his cool. “And trust me, boy, by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be wishing you were a pup like Saint. At least he obeys.”

I chuckled and grabbed my crotch, thrusting my hips upward. “Suck on my big hairy balls, Daddy.”

Silence fell over the room and the buzzing of the microphone was gone. I held my breath, waiting, but nothing happened.

“I think you pushed him too far,” Saint whispered, and for once, I agreed with him. I didn’t know what had gotten into me, and I’d never felt this way. Fury thrummed inside my chest, making it hard to breathe, and my blood was lava hot. I wanted to break everything I could get my hands on, but I didn’t. I’d pushed Dad far enough. After what I’d done, he would probably throw me out onto the streets.

“I’m going to shower.”

I left Saint there on the kitchen floor and ran up the stairs and toward my room. I nearly tripped again, but I managed to stay on my feet. My world tipped and turned, and my stomach churned, but it was with nerves. I didn’t know what Dad would do when he got home, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to find out or not. I thought about packing my bags and running to Mom’s, but I’d barely gotten a call from her since she’d gotten hitched to some old granddad on the other side of Vert Island. We were so close to each other, but she didn’t visit. She’d moved on and had her claws in another man.

I stripped, then stumbled into the shower in the bathroom attached to my bedroom, naked and shivering with fear. Dad wouldn’t hurt me. He was many things, but he would never do anything I didn’t want him to do, but that was scary because. . . fuck, I needed him to do things a father shouldn’t to his son. Maybe even things he did to Saint.

I touched my forehead to the granite tiles of the walk-in shower and panted, trying to breathe. The alcohol’s effects lingered, teasing the intoxicating feeling of numbness. I could drink more and forget everything that had happened, but whenever I sobered up, Dad would be there—waiting.

I slammed my fist against the wall. I’d fucked up and let my emotions get the best of me. The sadness and anger that fueled me might be my undoing.

The water felt good, and I stood there, hoping it would wash away the pain. Then the next thing I knew, someone’s shadow swallowed me before they grabbed my shoulders roughly and I was spun around. My back slammed against the tiled wall, and I yelped, eyes flashing open to meet Dad’s furious gaze.

I laughed, aware of my half-hard cock slapping against my thigh. He was still in his suit, and the water cascaded down on his expensive clothes. His hair got the force of the water, though, and the short brown locks soaked it in, making the strands stick to his forehead. His eyes blazed with rage unlike anything I’d seen, and the fucked-up thing was that I grew harder at the sight of him standing before me like a vengeful god—a hot one.

“Hey, Daddy.” My laughter grew louder. “Did Daddy come to spank me?”

His mouth curved to one side, but anger sparked in that simple movement, too. He seized my throat, and I wheezed in surprise, blinking the water from my lashes. He shoved me harder against the wall and pressed against me, his wet suit scratchy as it rubbed over my skin. My cock was wedged in between us.

“You’ve pushed me too far this time, boy. If you want a Daddy, I’ll be one for you.” He stepped back, releasing my throat. I gasped, disappointment at the loss of contact worming its way through me. He nodded toward the entrance of the shower. “Dry off and get to my bedroom.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, leaving the shower, his wet shoes squeaking.

My breath caught in my throat and it took every ounce of energy I had to force it out. I exhaled shakily, my cock throbbing and as hard as one of my textbooks. I forced my trembling legs to work and walked out of the shower. Dad hadn’t told me to dress, so I dried off and wrapped the towel around my waist.

I headed out of my room and toward his, inhaling and exhaling as deeply as I could while a combination of fear and anticipation churned inside me. I focused on my steps, even and strong, until I got to his door. Raising my fist, I thought about knocking before I dropped my hand again. I opened the door and stepped inside.

The sight had me freezing.

Dad was naked, his wet suit lying on the floor. He had Saint on his back in the middle of the bed. Saint’s legs were wide open and in the air as Dad fucked him hard and fast. The action was heat filled and intense, and even though I was seeing them from the back, there was something erotic about this angle. Dad’s muscular ass strained every time he drove balls deep, and his sack slapped against Saint’s skin. He gripped Saint’s ankles, keeping them spread.

My mouth watered and my cock tented the towel I’d secured around my waist. I didn’t move, didn’t speak, afraid I would break their focus. Saint’s moans echoed around the room and every thrust from Dad had him nearly screaming.