Page 68 of Viking Ink

“Daddyyyy, I’m waiting.” Rhys’s voice sang out loudly from the bathroom.

I let out a chuckle. He was sinking fast into his little space. He needed this even more than I’d realized. I only hoped I could give him a truly special experience. With one last look around the room I stepped out into the hall, sinking into my own headspace.

Rhys needed his Daddy bear.

Rhys sat on the edge of the tub still dressed and waiting, just like I’d told him. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on my boy, to cherish his body and make love to him all night. But first, I planned on bathing him and letting him have the down time he so badly needed.

I entered the bathroom, and turned on the shower taps, getting the water flowing and the room filling with warm steam. The last thing I wanted was for my baby bear to get cold.

“Stand up, baby. Let Daddy get those clothes off you.”

Rhys rose with a sensual grace that I was sure he wasn’t even aware he possessed. I began to remove his clothes and kissed each bit of bare skin I uncovered, which resulted in delightful giggles when my beard brushed my sweet boy’s belly. I did it again just to hear the sound.

“Daddy, that tickles!” Rhys said breathlessly as I brushed my beard again against the soft skin of his exposed belly.

I gave his hip a gentle nip and slid his jeans and underwear down, tempted to bestow a kiss on his semi-hard cock. But I knew that down that path lay temptation—we’d end up a sweaty but satiated mess on the bathroom floor, and I wasn’t sure my knees were quite up to that. So I detoured from his tempting cock in order to slide his jeans and underwear all the way off.

I stood, wincing as my knees gave a pop and earned another soft giggle from Rhys. “Are you laughing at my decrepitude?”

Rhys giggled, wrapping his slim arms around me. “You’re the sexiest decrepit old man I know.” He tilted his head as if thinking. “Oh, except for Doc. I mean he has some killer grey fox vibes going on, even when he’s an old curmudgeon.”

“Are you trying to kill my boner, boy? Last thing I want to think of is Doc being sexy.” I gave a shudder.

Rhys gave a devilish grin and squeezed my arse gently. “Don’t worry, Daddy. I’m sure I could revive it.”

I gave a startled laugh. It was always a delightful shock when Rhys let his dirty little side out. “Oh, I’m sure, baby. But right now let’s get you washed and that travesty of a beard dealt with. Then we can play.”

Rhys pouted and lifted a hand to his cheek. “Well some of us don’t have the beardy gene and have to settle for more refined facial hair. We can’t all give Grizzly Adams a run for his money.”

I guided him toward the shower, and checked the temperature before gently moving him under the running water.

“Oh god, that feels good.” Rhys’s groans were turning me on, whether he meant them to or not.

I quickly shucked my own clothes, moving into the shower and pressing myself against him. Kissing his shoulder, I grabbed the sponge and began to lather it up.

Despite Rhys’s attempts at distracting me, I managed to get us both washed—but it was a near thing. The way he wiggled his cute behind while I washed his back and bottom had me gritting my teeth and praying to any god listening for self-control. When we were done and I had Rhys wrapped in a big cotton towel, his hair hanging in soft golden ringlets, I was once again taken aback by how beautiful he was. This stunning, kind man was all mine—my boy, to cherish and love. And I knew I would, until the day I died.

I sat him down on the closed toilet lid, and pulled out my shaving kit. The mirror reflected his interested expression as he watched me pull my kit open and take out my boar bristle brush, my soft shaving soap, and finally, my cutthroat razor.

“Um, Daddy? I’m not sure I want that anywhere near my privates.” Rhys’s eyes were wide as he looked at the steel blade in my hands.

I could understand his reluctance. I could still remember years ago when a boyfriend had first introduced me to shaving with a straight blade. He’d scared the hell out of me, until I’d given in and let him shave my face and groin. I had become an enthusiastic fan after that experience—but I wasn’t going to push Rhys.

“We don’t have to, baby. I have a normal pack of razors here in the cupboard.” I indicated the small cupboard under the basin, fairly certain I had a pack of disposables in there.

Rhys screwed up his nose, eyes unfocused as he thought. A small smile appeared. “I trust you, Daddy. But maybe we could just do the face to start, and see how I go?”

I was so proud of my boy for letting me know what he was comfortable with. “Of course, baby. If you don’t like it, just tell me and I’ll stop. Being shaved with a straight razor isn’t for everyone.”

Rhys’s eyes lit up as he giggled. “Is that why you have such a bushy beard, Daddy?”

I gave Rhys my dirtiest smile. “Oh no, baby. I love being shaved. I love the feel of the blade against my skin, and being smooth. I also love the intimacy of someone shaving me.”

His eyes took on a dreamy look and he smiled softly, hands resting loosely in his lap. “I want to feel that, Daddy.”

“All right, baby. All you have to do is sit back and let Daddy take care of you.” I grabbed a fresh washcloth and ran it under warm water. The shower had softened Rhys’s beard hair somewhat, but I wanted to give my boy a close shave, and an enjoyable one.

I tipped his face back and rested the washcloth over his face, letting the heat help soften the hair and skin while I lathered my boar brush in the soap. Removing the washcloth, I could already see that some of the nervous tension had left Rhys’s expression, and a soft moan slipped from his lips as I brushed the soapy lather over his cheeks.

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