Daddy’s eyes were closed,head resting on the edge of my big bathtub. His hair was free of its usual knot. The wet, blond strands were glued haphazardly to the column of his neck, and I traced each one of them with the tip of my nose, inhaling him.
The scent he carried was just as elusive as he was. The rugged, fleeting fragrance was a funny juxtaposition to the lavender bubble bath he’d previously filled the tub with.
“Can I wash you, Daddy?”
He hummed, and I figured that meant yes because he slid just an inch or so deeper into the tub. Bubbles danced along his tanned skin, and I couldn’t help but play with them, piling them up on his chest, using them to make shapes and build mountains and writeI love you.
Daddy’s palms slipped across my hips, his thumbs tracing their own letters. His lips curved upward an inch, but he kept his eyes closed and let me play.
My spot on his lap made it difficult for me to truly wash him but I grabbed my loofah anyway, covering it in a generous pile of soap. He grunted when I slapped it against his belly, scrubbing softly.
“Is this nice, Daddy?”
“This is perfect, baby. Thank you.”
I smiled at the praise and continued my exploration of his body, moving the loofah in a slow circular motion across his skin. His nipples hardened with one simple pass, and I couldn’t help myself when I leaned forward and sucked one into my mouth.
Daddy’s grip tightened against my hips, and I felt his cock get hard beneath butt.
My own cock was trapped between my stomach and his, growing more sticky with each minute we sat beneath these bubbles. I ground against him, my head reeling with the pleasure I received from such a simple motion.
Everything was better with Daddy.
“Do you need something, Kitten? Or are you just playing?”
“Playing right now, Daddy.” I thrust again. “I’m sticky.”
“Good.” He whispered, trailing his hands down my thighs and back up again.
I shivered beneath the tender touch and let my cheek fall lightly against his chest as I suckled his nipple. He hummed every once in a while, and I wasn’t sure if he was singing a particular song or just whatever soft sounds he had trapped in his head.
My own head was quiet, and that surprised me because it almost never was.
Ialwayshad something to think about.
Especially now.
My wet lashes brushed the tops of my cheeks when I let my eyes slip closed. Daddy’s hands went from caressing my thighs to slipping up and down my spine. I arched into his heavy touch, whimpering softly for more. I liked when he held me like this, in the pocket of his arms, as if I was the only thing that held any importance to him.
“You did a good job tonight, Kitten.”
He spoke softly, but somehow, I heard his voice coming from every direction.
“The hard part’s over now. Daddy is going to take care of the rest.”
I stopped suckling and turned my head just enough that I could peer at his face. His features were soft, but I knew that was only the power of a good bubble bath. Hidden beneath that barely there smile were emotions so complicated and so complex, my brain nearly short-circuited trying to compute them.
Ezra was ghost… and that simple, horrible truth seemed to paralyze him into a quiet state of indifference.
“Daddy?”
He cracked one eye open.
“Are you sure you want to… take care of it? I think Ivan or Mr. Thomas wouldn’t mind.”
“Sweetheart.” Both of his eyes were open now, and he lifted his head to peer down at me. “This is my job.”
“But it’s yourbrother.”