Protection is Best Served With Benefits: MM DDlb Romance

Chapter Five

Not edited or proofread.

Max

By the time dinner rolled around, I was in a shit mood. I needed to regress, to let the stress of the day and my future go, but I couldn't. It was bad enough I'd called Griffin Papa. He hadn't minded, thank fuck, but it was still the fact of the matter. We hadn't had that discussion. Hell, we'd barely had any discussion over what was happening between us, and I'd lost it earlier. My brain had forced me to at least regress a little bit.

I couldn't do more than that. Not without talking to Griffin and us placing boundaries in place and safe words. But I couldn't bring myself to open up. To talk about what I needed. And I was slowly but surely losing it.

Too much was happening. Griffin wanted me in the same way I'd wanted him for so long. He was uprooting me from my apartment. Moving me in with him. Changing my banking info. Drawing a line in the sand between me and my parents. And while those were good things, it was still stressful. Still too much.

"You're not eating," Griffin said, frowning at me across the kitchen table. "You okay, baby?"

I dropped my fork to my plate, tired of trying to pretend. Tears welled in my eyes as I pushed away from the table, needing to escape. I was falling apart, and I couldn't fucking stop it.

Griffin was faster than me though, and he blocked my exit out the kitchen. I sniffled, angrily swiping at the tears rushing down my cheeks. "Move," I croaked.

"No, baby. We're not fucking doing this." He side-stepped at the same time I did before he reached out and dragged me to him. I fought him for a good minute, beating on his chest and yelling at him. I didn't even know what I was saying. But I was having a meltdown—I knew that.

Eventually, my fists just curled into his shirt, and I sobbed, sinking into him, letting him take care of me. Lifting me like I weighed nothing more than a feather, he placed me on the kitchen counter and stepped between my legs, gripping my wet face in his hands. I hiccupped, my hands circling his wrists, needing him close to me like I needed air to breathe, which was becoming increasingly difficult.

"Breathe, baby. Focus on Papa and breathe. It's okay. Whatever has you so worked up, Papa will take care of it, you hear me? Just breathe for me."

Dropping my hands to his chest, I pressed in hard, forcing myself to feel his deep, even breaths and the steady beat of his heart. He was so calm. So put together. And it helped. Knowing Papa was strong and capable in the midst of all my panic grounded me.

"That's it, baby boy. You're doing so good." He stroked his thumbs through my tears, smiling softly at me. "Just keep breathing. You're so perfect. So good. You're doing so, so well."

Once my breathing was steady, Papa gathered me close, holding my head to his chest, his other arm banded tightly around my back. It was just on this side of painful, and it settled me. I sniffled. I knew I was a mess. My face was sticky with snot and tears, but I didn't want to move. Griffin was so warm and steady and strong, and I just needed him like this for a little while.

"Let's clean your face," he said a couple of minutes later. But instead of putting me on my feet, he gripped me under my thighs and lifted me up. I linked my arms and legs around him and let him carry me to his room. Once I was seated on the bed, he went into the bathroom, coming back a moment later with a warm, damp cloth. He gently ran it over my face, cleaning me up.

Once he'd disposed of the cloth into the hamper, he pulled me to lay down beside him, curling his arms around me and draping his leg over both of mine. I buried my face against his chest, inhaling deeply, not even caring if it was weird. He smelled so good. He smelled like home.

"Can you tell me what had you so upset?" Griffin asked me softly, his voice deep. His chest vibrated against my face, and I just snuggled closer.

I twisted my fingers in and out of his shirt, needing to comfort myself as I laid my vulnerabilities bare. "I need to regress," I said quitely. "There's too much going on, and it's stressful, and even though it's good things and I want to be here and I don't want to deal with my parens anymore, I just need to—" I sucked in a deep breath, my brain and mouth running faster than my lungs could keep up with. "I just need to let go and be, and I can't do that without regressing because it's the only time my brain shuts off."

"That's it?" Griffin asked quietly. When I nodded, he leaned back a little and hooked one of his fingers under my chin, tilting my head back. "Baby boy, I took on the roll of your Papa. That means whatever you need, I want to be able to provide it. If you need to regress, do that. I'm prepared to take care of you—no matter what that means." Leaning down, he softly kissed me, his lips smooth and warm and so loving that my chest tightened and tears welled in my eyes again.

"You'll be such a good Papa," I said quietly, snuggling back into him when he released my chin.

He chuckled, dropping a kiss to the top of my head. "I want to be whatever you need me to be, baby boy."