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“No,” I said, giving my nephew a wary look. He’d definitely said this gift was for Dashiell.
Jackie just grinned, waggling his eyebrows at me, and started humming “Chapel of Love.”
The little shit. No one was going to the chapel or getting married.
Yet.
“Okay, well, gotta go!” Jackie said, backing away with a laugh when I glared at him. “Have fun, call me soon, remember to douche, ta!”
He slammed the door, and Dashiell giggled, a sound I was rapidly falling in love with. “He’s kind of a whirlwind, isn’t he?”
“He is that,” I agreed, pulling my boy close enough that the tissue in the fussy gift bag crinkled between us. I leaned down, tipping his head up and dragging my nose along his jaw. “He’s also right. You do smell like my cum, pretty baby. And as much as I enjoy that, let’s get into the shower. I want to get you clean.”
Dashiell’s breath hitched, but he let me pull him back toward the bathroom without any protest. “Um, do you mean the way Jackie said?”
I tossed the gift bag onto my rumpled bed once we made it that far, then slipped the robe off my boy’s shoulders, my cock doing its damndest to harden again at the beautiful sight that greeted me. My refractory period reflected my age, though, so that wasn’t going to happen for a while… but we’d get there.
“I will get you very clean,” I promised, fondling his caged cock with a primitive caveman-like sense of satisfaction.
“That means you’re coming in the shower with me, right?” Dashiell asked, his eyes glued to the sight of his locked-up cock. “I don’t… I don’t have to take it off, do I?”
“No. I decide when it comes off.”
I almost added another reminder about those safewords Jackie had taught him, but stopped myself at the last minute. My boy had proven, over and over, that no matter how domineering I got, he still knew he had a choice here… and each and every time, he’d chosen to put himself into my care and under my control.
It was the biggest fucking turn-on of my life, but it did other things to me, too.
“Come on, sweetheart,” I said, my heart doing a slow roll in my chest at the look of relief and… Jesus, and quiet joy that came over his face when I made it clear I was still in charge here, and planned on keeping it that way.
“Yes, Daddy,” he said, which made my heart do even bigger things.
It was a little galling to admit that the nephew I was supposed to be a role model for might actually be the one of us who had more figured out when it came to matters of the heart, but I also wasn’t a man to avoid compelling evidence, and in this case… well, I had yet to prove any of Jackie’s theories wrong, and was increasingly sure I didn’t want to.
“I’ve never showered with anyone before, Daddy,” Dashiell said once I had the water temperature adjusted in the shower and had pulled him under the warm spray. He looked up at me, water droplets clinging to his eyelashes and the eager smile I was already in love with on his face. “Can I wash you?”
“Not this time, baby. You took care of me so damn well when we woke up this morning. I want to take care of you now.”
And the pliant little thing let me, because of course he did. He was perfect.
“Tip your head back,” I said, running my fingers through his soft, thick hair and wetting it thoroughly before sudsing it up with shampoo.
“This is so nice,” he said, sounding a little dreamy as he leaned against me, his eyes fluttering closed. “Almost as nice as… um…”
He bit his lip, chewing the poor thing half to death.
I tugged it out from between his teeth. “None of that, sweetheart. It’s almost as nice as what?”
It was hard to discern his blush when his skin was already so beautifully flushed from the heat of the shower, but I was starting to know my boy, and I could tell it was there.
“Um, as everything.” He paused, then blurted. “Okay, I meant sex. Or, like, coming? But now I like not coming, too.”
His hand drifted down, toying with his cage.
“Mine,” I reminded him, just to hear that little hitch in his breath.
“Yes, Daddy.”
I finished washing his hair, rinsing it thoroughly and then reaching for a bottle of conditioner that Jackie had given me as part of an entire “self-grooming” gift set that I’d assumed was a joke. My hair wasn’t long enough to need any conditioner. Neither was Jackie’s, but it would still make him feel good, so I was glad I’d given in and brought the sweet-smelling, silky liquid into the shower. It was perfect for my boy.
