Page 35 of Mafia King

Heat floods Theo’s face. The words are simple, domestic, yet they carry the same quiet authority he used when he ordered him into the car.

Theo feels the Little part of himself stir in response—the part that wants to be taken care of, directed, held—and the blush deepens.

“How do you know about that side of me?” Theo asks, the question slipping out before he can stop it.

Nikolai’s mouth curves, not quite a smile.

“I have ways of finding everything out,” Nikolai answers. He steps forward without another word, slides one arm under his knees and the other around his back, and lifts him as if he weighs nothing.

Theo’s arms go around Nikolai’s sturdy neck on instinct. He carries Theo easily up the remaining curve of the wide, winding staircase.

The wood is polished and dark, the banister smooth under his trailing fingers. At the top Nikolai turns into a large bathroom that feels nothing like the sleek ensuite he expected.

The tub is deep and freestanding, and the powerful taps ensure it fills quickly with steaming water. Thick bubbles rise in soft white mounds. Two bright yellow rubber ducks bob near the far edge. Soft lighting glows from wall sconces.

Nikolai sets Theo on his feet only long enough to undress him. He works with the same unhurried precision he shows in everything else: jeans, briefs, the rest of his clothes folded neatly aside.

When Theo is bare Nikolai lifts him again and lowers him carefully into the hot water.

Bubbles close over his skin.

The heat sinks deep into sore muscles and the residual marks on his ass.

One of the rubber ducks bumps gently against his knee. Theo sinks lower, the water lapping at his collarbones, and feels something inside his chest loosen.

“Mmm, this is good,” Theo says, already feeling himself relax.

“As it should,” Nikolai answers. “Now, allow me…”

Nikolai rolls up his sleeves, kneels beside the tub, and begins to wash Theo. His hands are strong and sure, but the touch is deliberate, almost tender.

Nikolai soaps a soft cloth and moves it in slow circles across Theo’s shoulders, down his arms, over his sensitive pinks nipples.

Theo’s breath shortens as his nipples stiffen. The care is so complete, so focused on his comfort, that his body responds before his mind can catch up. His hips shift under the water, a small, involuntary roll of pleasure.

Nikolai notices...

“It’s okay,” Nikolai says, voice low near Theo’s ear. “You can play with yourself while I wash you. While I massage your shoulders and your front, you can play with that hard little cock and make it shoot.”

The permission lands like a key turning.

Theo’s hand slips between his own thighs under the cover of the bubbles. He finds himself hard and his cock more than ready to be stimulated and pleasured.

Nikolai continues exactly as he promised: firm, rhythmic strokes along his shoulders, thumbs pressing into the knots at the base of his neck, then lower, soaping and massaging the firm curves of his pecs with slow, thorough attention.

Theo’s fingers work faster and faster. The combination of Nikolai’s hands and his own, the warm water, the soft squeak of a rubber duck against the porcelain, the knowledge that he is watching and allowing—everything tightens at once.

“Daddy!” Theo gasps, his eyes shut and sweat dripping from his brow in the heat.

Theo bucks his hips high and cums with a quiet, broken sound, thighs pressing as the bubbles fall off, his free hand gripping the edge of the tub while the orgasm rolls through him in long, deep waves.

Nikolai does not stop the gentle washing until the last tremor fades.

Only then does he reach for a large, fluffy white towel. Nikolai helps Theo stand, water streaming down his body, and wraps the towel around him with careful thoroughness. The fabric is soft and warm.

Nikolai lifts Theo once more, cradling him against his chest, and carries the young man out of the bathroom and down the short hallway toward the bedroom.

Theo rests his head against his Daddy’s shoulder, still floating in the afterglow, the platinum bracelet still missing from his wrist and the complicated truth of who his Russian Daddy truly is still settling deeper into his bones…