Chapter 13

The laughter from the night still echoed in Josiah's ears, a warm reminder of the time spent with Denali and his partners. But as the front door of their Brooklyn townhouse closed behind them, an expectant hush settled over him. The familiar space seemed to hold its breath, bracing for the shift in atmosphere from the camaraderie of friends to the charged solitude Daddy and he now shared.

"Home," Daddy murmured. His low voice swirled around Josiah like an intimate caress. Daddy hung up their coats with a meticulousness that spoke of his innate need for order, something that always grounded Josiah and made him feel safe and cared for. It wasn't just a house they returned to. It was their sanctuary, one that promised solace and sparks of desire in equal measure.

"Shower?" Daddy turned to Josiah with a look that was both a question and an invitation.

Josiah nodded, the anticipation coiling tighter within him. Daddy led him upstairs, each step they took together a silent shedding of the outside world.

In the bathroom, steam billowed from the running shower, fogging up the mirror and glazing the tiles with warmth. Daddy undressed first, his movements unhurried, revealing skin that held stories of a life before Josiah—scars and softness intertwined. Josiah followed suit, stripping away layers until he stood bare under the fluorescent lights.

"Come here, baby boy." Daddy's voice was tender, a velvet command, and Josiah stepped into the circle of his arms without hesitation. Together, they stood under the water cascading like a benediction, washing away the remnants of their evening out.

Every droplet that kissed Josiah's skin seemed to sizzle, infused with the promise of what was to come. Daddy's hands were gentle but assured, guiding him under the stream, conveying without words that he was there to care, to serve, to love. In the simple act of being led, Josiah found profound comfort, his body relaxing into the rhythm of Daddy's ministrations.

"Feel good?" Daddy asked, a soft rumble against the patter of water.

"Always does with you." The truth of that statement bloomed in Josiah's chest.

"Lean back." Daddy threaded his fingers through Josiah's wet hair, massaging his scalp with a tenderness that belied his rugged exterior. The scent of the shampoo mingled with the steam, a subtle hint of sandalwood and vanilla enveloping them in an olfactory embrace. Josiah closed his eyes, letting Daddy's touch anchor him to the moment, the rest of the world fading into a distant murmur. Daddy worked the lather, each movement a testament to his care for Josiah. The gentle tugging sensation, rhythmic and soothing, sent small shivers down Josiah's spine.

When the last of the suds spiraled down the drain, Daddy glided a bar of soap along Josiah's shoulders, tracing the contours of his collarbone and venturing farther. Soap slicked skin against skin, creating a delicious friction that made Josiah keenly aware of every ridge and plane of Brody's palms.

As those hands charted a path down his chest, Josiah's breath hitched, and his body sang with the need for more of Daddy's attention. Six months together, they still couldn't get enough of each other, their need and desire burning as brightly as the day they'd met.

The caress of the soap in Daddy's hands was a love language on its own, speaking directly to Josiah's flesh. Josiah leaned into the touch, into the solidity of Daddy's presence behind him. Every brush of the soap, every sweep along his waist, and every tender squeeze to his hips was laden with affection and care that seemed to seep into his pores. Josiah felt more than clean. He felt cherished.

"You always make getting clean feel so good, Daddy," Josiah murmured with a happy sigh.

"I love taking care of you in every way, baby boy. Bend over."

He did, spreading his legs. Daddy was careful when he pulled out the plug he'd put in earlier. They were practicing with more self-control for Josiah, who still struggled not to come when not allowed. Putting in a plug for a few hours was one way that Daddy tested him, and if he didn't play with it, he'd get his reward. And today, he'd been so good, although it had cost him.

Daddy turned off the water, leaving them enshrouded in the lingering warmth of steam, grabbed a plush towel, and draped it over Josiah's head. He gently rubbed the locks between the soft fabric, absorbing the droplets clinging to each strand. Josiah closed his eyes, giving himself over to the sensation of being cocooned in a cloud, Daddy's touch grounding and ethereal.

Daddy wrapped another large towel around Josiah's shoulders, patting down his arms with a tenderness that contrasted starkly with the firmness of his grip. Then Daddy dried himself off with quick, practiced movements, and Josiah's body reacted to the sight of the man who not only dominated but cared for him with such precision. Love, desire, admiration, and gratitude swirled together in that big, warm sensation inside him.

"Come here." Once they'd stepped back into the bedroom, Daddy pulled Josiah close against his still-damp chest, their skin meeting in a warm, slightly moist embrace that spoke volumes of their shared intimacy.

Daddy's hand, warm and sure, traced the curve of Josiah's spine, sending shivers down his body. The touch was a silent reminder of the promise whispered between them earlier, a promise that sent anticipation skittering across Josiah's skin like the first snowflakes of an Alaskan winter.

"You've been such a good boy today." Daddy's voice was low and smooth like whiskey poured over ice. "It's time for your reward, baby boy."

Josiah's heart raced, pounding a rhythm that matched the thrumming need coursing through him. "Yes, Daddy."

"Over my knee, then," Daddy commanded gently, guiding Josiah with a firm hand to drape him over his lap as he settled into a reading chair. Josiah settled into the position with the ease of experience. The cool air contrasted with the warmth of Daddy's thighs beneath him, grounding Josiah in the moment. His senses were heightened, attuned to every shift in Daddy's breathing, every brush of his fingertips along Josiah's vulnerable skin, every beat of his own heart as it sped up in anticipation.

This was where he belonged, lying over Daddy's lap, held securely within the boundaries of their dynamic. The power play between them wasn't just about control. It was about connection, about Daddy understanding what Josiah needed without a single word spoken. A lot had happened since that first disciplinary spanking.

"Ready, baby boy?" Daddy asked, his hand resting possessively on Josiah's backside.

"More than ready." Josiah surrendered himself to the experience, to the man behind him who knew how to draw out the deepest responses from his body.

The first strike landed with a controlled thud, and Josiah gasped. It always took him a minute to settle into it, waiting for the pain to become something else. Heat bloomed across his skin, radiating outward in ripples of shock and pleasure that crawled up his spine and ignited nerves waiting to be set afire.

"Good?" Daddy asked.

"Perfect, Daddy."

Each successive slap proved Daddy's skill at creating pain and ecstasy, a symphony composed on Josiah's flesh. His body jerked with each impact, but he felt no urge to flee from the sensation, only to chase it, to embrace it.

Daddy's pace was measured, a deliberate cadence that allowed Josiah to savor the sting that melted into a deep, throbbing warmth. His breath hitched as arousal coiled tight within him, his skin sensitive to every touch, every movement, every brush from the man above him.

"Look at you, taking this so beautifully," Daddy said, and Josiah reveled in the smile in his words, the pride.

"Want to see your marks on me," Josiah said between pants. The thought of carrying Daddy's handprints, a visible sign of their connection and intimacy, sent a thrill dancing down his over-sensitized nerves.

"Later, my beautiful boy," Daddy said. A surge of warmth sparked through Josiah that rivaled the heat from the spanks. "You'll have them, every last one."

Josiah craved that, craved the sight of Daddy's strength marked upon him, a reminder of the trust and surrender that framed their life together. Each slap was a stroke of affirmation, of care, of love. Josiah basked in the sensations, lost in the moment, floating in the bliss Daddy crafted with such care, in the sweet ache that had settled under his skin.

The transition came naturally, as it always did. The room was charged with their shared electricity, the air thick with the scent of musk and their ragged breaths. Josiah's body hummed with need, each cell crying out for more, for the consummation of their dance of power and surrender. "Daddy," he pleaded. "Daddy, I need you."

A reward spanking was the one time when Daddy wanted him to beg… and when he was willing to let Josiah set the pace.

"Need you too, baby boy."

Daddy carried him to the bed, where he carefully put Josiah on his back, his ass on the edge. Daddy loomed over him, the promise in his eyes dark and intoxicating. He positioned himself between Josiah's thighs, and Josiah breathed in sharply at the mere suggestion of what was to come.

"Look at me," Brody commanded, his voice gravelly with want as he guided himself to Josiah's entrance. Josiah obeyed, locking eyes with Brody, drowning in the ocean of emotion he found there. With slow motions, Brody entered him, inch by torturous inch, stretching Josiah, filling him until he thought he might break apart from the sheer intensity.

"Daddy," he moaned, arching into the exquisite invasion, his hands clawing at the sheets.

"You feel so good, baby boy. You've been such a good boy for Daddy today. And now Daddy will fuck you until you see the stars and then fill you up with his load."

"Please, Daddy…"

What was he begging for? Daddy would know. Daddy always knew.

His body shook as Daddy set a rhythm that was both relentless and reverent, snapping his hips forward in a cadence that drove Josiah to the brink, only to pull him back, denying release. He knew better than to grab himself and allow himself to come. Besides, loath as he was to admit it, his orgasm was a thousand times more intense after Daddy had edged him. That didn't stop him from begging, though.

"Please." Josiah teetered on the edge of ecstasy, his world narrowing to the point of connection where Daddy's body claimed his own. But Daddy was unyielding, a masterful conductor directing the symphony of their passion.

"Not yet," Daddy growled, his strokes deepening, each thrust a brand that seared into Josiah's flesh. "You'll come when I do, not a second before."

Josiah was lost, swept up in the tide of Daddy's control, every nerve alight with the friction of their joining. The denial was excruciating, a delicious torment that had him spiraling toward madness. He was at Daddy's mercy, and there was no place he'd rather be.

"Daddy…" he pleaded again, the words torn from him in a guttural whisper.

"Shh… I've got you." Daddy's movements became more erratic, a sign of his nearing climax.

And when Daddy finally allowed himself to shatter and the hot rush flowed inside him, the floodgates opened and his ecstasy crashed through him. His world quaked from the wave of pleasure surging through him like a maelstrom, wild and relentless. His body convulsed, electric currents of delight sparking from the depths of his being to the tips of his fingers and toes.

"Daddy!" he cried out. Every fiber of his existence lit up like the auroras in Alaska, dancing across the night sky.

For long moments, they remained locked together, Josiah's heart thundering against Daddy's chest, the sound more overwhelming than their ragged breaths. As the ripples of pleasure subsided, the afterglow wrapping around them like a warm blanket, Josiah's mind floated gently back into his body.

"Baby boy," Daddy murmured, his breath hot against Josiah's ear. "Look at me."

With effort, Josiah lifted his heavy eyelids and gazed into Daddy's eyes, which shimmered with an emotion so profound it took his breath away. The vulnerability was a stark contrast to the dominance Daddy wielded so expertly.

"I love you, baby boy." The words were simple but charged with the weight of their shared experiences, the trials they'd overcome, and the trust they'd built—and Josiah never tired of hearing them.

"I love you too, Daddy," Josiah replied, his voice thick with emotion. The depth of his feelings for Daddy was sometimes terrifying in magnitude and intensity, yet there was no place he'd rather be than here, in the arms of the man who had become his everything.

Their lips met in a kiss that was a seal and a promise, a tender connection of their souls. As they broke apart, Josiah nestled closer to Daddy's warmth, Daddy's heart beating a soothing rhythm against his own.

After a few minutes, Daddy cleaned them up, and they settled back in bed together. The room seemed to cradle them, the world outside their cocoon receding into a distant hum. Josiah let out a contented sigh that sang of safety and belonging. He'd never imagined his life would take such a turn. Not only had he found a Dom, but he also had a Daddy, a partner with whom he could share every facet of himself.

The anticipation of what lay ahead—a future brimming with shared experiences, whispered secrets, and the weaving of their lives into a tapestry more vibrant than any material he'd ever stitched—filled Josiah with a hunger that was both thrilling and profound. It was a hunger for life, love, and every unexplored path they would walk together.

"Sleep now," Daddy said, his voice laced with tenderness. "Rest up for tomorrow… and all our tomorrows after that."

"Yes, Daddy."

THE END